We Are All Horrible People

The History of the Curse Words, II: Flippin' the Bird

2007-03-12T14:08:00.000-04:00

I mean come on. Who doesn't love to give some unsuspecting asshole the middle finger every once and a while? Someone cuts you off, makes fun of your hair, disrespects yo momma, whatever. When words just cannot suffice, nothing fills the angry void in your soul quite like strongly and defiantly holding up that middle finger in the direction of some poor sap who wronged you. That's right, buddy, take a good long look at that shit.

But why do we do it? As we might ask on the Jewish holiday of Passover, 'what makes this finger different from all other fingers?'

I'm glad you asked.

Legend has it the 'middle finger salute' was first used at the Battle of Agincourt. Since I know that a significant percentage of the Horrible People fan base is made up of English war history oficionados, you would know that particular battle is considered Henry V's crowning acheivement in his part of the Hundred Years War, defeating the Charles VI and his French. Wonder why Olmec never brought this story up on Legends of the Hidden Temple...

Anyway, the battle was notable because the English army was made up of far more longbowmen than were used in average battles. In fact, the majority of the English forces were longbowmen. 'How does one use a longbow,' you might ask? Well, you use your middle finger to pluck at the string, typically horsehair, while holding the actual bow with the other hand, most often made out of the wood of the yew tree.

As in any battle, forces were captured by both sides. The French knew that many English used the longbow proficiently and so those captured by the French had thier middle fingers chopped off. That's right, not broken, not cut, they chopped them O-F-F off. So if ransomed they would be unable to be used as archers ever again. Ouch.

The battle was a rousing success for the English, ending in the outflanking and eventual surrender of the French forces. Those longbowmen remaining at the end of the battle held thier middle fingers aloft, shouting 'I can still pluck yew!' This, of course, referencing the ability to still fire a bow with the correct finger.

Again, a transliteration error leads to a curse word. 'Pluck yew' lead to 'Fuck you.' The rest is history.

But is it true?

Of course not. It's so implausable it's not even funny. Would the English even pay the ransom to get damaged goods? Wouldn't the French have just killed the prisoners if they wanted them out of commission? If the English had so many longbowmen then would the loss of just a few dozen archers be important at all? And lastly, wouldn't the English have shouted to the French, 'Hey you ugly pig-dogs, I can still pluck... horsehair!' instead, seeing as you don't pluck the yew part of the bow? The answer to all of these is yes.

But is this story better? Fuck yea it is.

Dear Mrs. Cooper: A (Possibly) True Story

2007-03-05T06:11:00.000-05:00

The names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Dear Mrs. Cooper,

Over the past several months your husband has been causing many problems for our staff. Though you may be unaware of his activity, as you were likely in the changing rooms, we cannot tolerate his behavior any longer and we have decided to ban both of you from the store. Our complaints against Mr. Cooper are listed below and are documented by our video surveillance cameras.

June 15: Took 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in people's carts when they weren't looking.

July 2: Set all the alarm clocks in Housewares to go off at 5-minute intervals.

July 7: Made a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the women's restroom.

July 19: Walked up to an employee and told her in an official voice, "Code 3 in Housewares. Get on it right away."

August 4: Went to the Service Desk and tried to put a bag of M&M's on layaway.

September 14: Moved a "CAUTION: WET FLOOR" sign to a carpeted area.

September 15: Set up a tent in the camping department and told other shoppers he'd invite them in if they would bring pillows and blankets from the bedding department.

September 23: When a clerk asked if they could help him he began crying and screamed, "Why can't you people just leave me alone?"

October 4: Looked right into the security camera and used it as a mirror while he picked his nose.

November 10: While handling guns in the hunting department, he asked the clerk where the antidepressants were.

December 3: Darted around the store suspiciously while loudly humming the "Mission Impossible" theme.

December 6: In the auto department, he practiced his 'Madonna look' by using different sizes of funnels.

December 18: Hid in a clothing rack and when people browsed through, yelled "Pick me! Pick me!"

December 21: When an announcement came over the loud speaker, he assumed a fetal position and screamed "Oh no! It's the voices again!"

December 23: Went into a fitting room, shut the door, waited awhile, then yelled very loudly, "There's no toilet paper in here!"

Regards,

The Management

The History of the Curse Words, I: The 'F' Bomb

2007-01-05T17:58:00.000-05:00

Horrible People is back from winter break. Let's get right to it:

Fuck.

It's odd, seeing it written, isn't it? Just sitting there. We say it all the time but we rarely solidify it with ink and paper. In fact, it didn't appear in the Oxford Dictionary until 1972. Fuckin' weird. But it's use was widespread long before that such as in the 1928 novel "Lady Chatterley's Lover" by D. H. Lawrence or the 1938 Louis Armstrong "Ol' Man Mose."

But where did it come from? Well, let's find the fuck out.

Legend has is that the word 'fuck' came from Irish law. If a couple were caught committing adultery they would be punished "For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge In the Nude," with "FUCKIN" written on the stockades above them to denote the crime.

Other explanations for fuck as an acronym:

"Fornication Under Carnal/Cardinal Knowledge"
"Fornication Under Consent of the King"
"Fornication Under the Christian King"
"False Use of Carnal Knowledge"
"Felonious Use of Carnal Knowledge"
"Felonious Unlawful Carnal Knowledge"
"Full-On Unlawful Carnal Knowledge"
"Found Under Carnal Knowledge"
"Forced Unlawful Carnal Knowledge" (a label supposedly applied to the crime of rape)

That's a lot of fucking.

But is it true? Probably not. The most likely origin is probably where most curse words and slurs come from: mistransliterations. In this case, from Latin to English.

The first known occurance of the word is in a coded poem titled "Flen Flyys." One line in the poem reads (when decoded), "non sunt in coeli, quia fvccant vvivys of heli," which means, "they are not in heaven because they fuck the wives of Ely." Ooooh, I'm pretty sure someone just got served just there.

The 'fvccant' is a fake Latin form, hence the need for the poem to be coded. Think of it as Medieval backwards record spinning combined with East Coast-West Coast rage, subtract a half millenia and you get this. Booooring.

I like the acronyms better, so the Fact Users Can Kiss it.

Fucki? Nevermind.

Reuben tells you why your Favorite Music sucks, Part IV: Fergie

2006-11-06T05:02:00.000-05:00

Usually I like to put some time in between 'Reuben Tells' you why so-and-so sucks posts. Wait a few months to recharge the ol' batteries, you know. But after seeing her latest video, I just couldn't wait for this one. Fergie sucks.

Why, you ask? Let me count the ways:

1. Dear Christ, my ears!

You know, I used to like Fergie. No joke. I thought she had a good voice and was a nice counterbalance to the other members of the Black Eyes Peas. But now? Whenever her songs (and I use 'songs' loosely here) come on MTV it reminds me of a drunk sorority chick with whiskey voice trying to sing her songs. It's like the old B.E.P. Fergie Voice took a shit and this new voice was in the stool. Moving on.

2. How come every time I come around this goddamn song is on TV?

If you've heard this song and are now trying to avoid it at all costs you know what I mean. I have a theory 'London Bridge' is on at least one of the MTV channels at all times. I'm almost as sick of this mish-mash of crappy faux-drums and stereotypical English imagery as I am of that song by Celine Dion that they wouldn't stop playing for a year and a half.

3. Fergie-scusting

If you though 'London Bridge' was bad wait 'til you hear 'Fergielicious.' Dear Lord. And I don't just mean the auditory aspects of the new single from hell, I also mean the visuals. This video destroys everything that I hold near and dear: candy, bright shiny colors, women in skimpy outfits, gymnastics, women in skimpy girl scout uniforms, cookies, women in skimpy bikinis painted like tigers, you get the idea. I used to love all those things. Now, not so much. It's amazing how a terrible song can make you hate everything associated with it.

4. Remember when she was hot?

I know I do. I guess that's the magic of make-up and computers nowadays. Just look at these paparazzi photos:

Ugh! A face like a ventriloquist's doll, only less lifelike. Seriously, put the make-up back on and then edit that shit to make her look good again.

Ah, much better. It's almost as if she's actually hot. And talented.

Almost.

Halloween Recap '06

2006-10-30T05:20:00.000-05:00

Good game out there, guys.

Another successful Halloween night in Athens. This year may not have had the sheer volume of really good costumes we had last year, but we made up for it in the quality of costumes and the fact that it wasn't 18 degrees and snowing this year. I'll take 40 and (relatively) dry with 25 mph winds over that shit anyday. Also, my friends Jules and Nick came in this weekend from Columbus. This was thier first Athens Halloween and blah blah blah, we'll skip the pleasentries and go right to the good stuff:

So Friday night we're walking down Court and we see a guy taking a piss in front of a dumpster in an alleyway. Now, most people would take the extra ten steps to go behind the dumpster, but not this guy. He'd been drinking since Tuesday and he really needed to drain his fluids. We stop to take a gander (I mean, bodily functions are entertaining) and start to leave when a cop walks up. He sees the guy in the alley and walks up behind him, flashlight in hand, pretty much tries to put a rear naked choke on the guy. But drunkie is having none of it; he turns slightly, looks his sure-fire misdemeanor booking right in the face and then elbows the cop right in his grill. Right in the cop's fucking face. It was pretty glorious.

But that's not all. Oh, no. Drunkie then proceeds to sprint into oncoming traffic (as much as he can sprint, what with the BAC and the not yet zipped pants falling down). I think the single most athletic thing I saw all weekend was that guy narrowly avoid becoming road kill by deftly hurdling Barry Sanders style to avoid the minivan in the left lane as he disappeared into the night. He obviously thought it through: public drunkeness and urination charges: night or two in jail and a fine. Added charges assaulting an officer and escaping arrest (and you could tack on a jaywalking charge there too) adds up to a roommate named Earl who likes the way your lips move when you talk.

Moving on to Saturday night. Though the streets were packed as always, this year there was something extra in the air. Maybe it was the holiday spirit. Maybe it was the fact that the Girls Gone Wild bus was in town. Maybe it was all the pot smoke in the air. Who knows. All I know is it was a different kind of Halloween.

A quick list of my favorite costumes:

Rock 'em Sock 'em Robots
hot Ninja Turles
Bernie from Weekend at Bernie's
contestants from Nickelodeon GUTS
hot girl scout troop
dead celebrities (John Lennon, Steve Irwin, etc.)
Greased-Up Deaf Guy
hot firewomen
plastic Army men
Beaker from Muppets
hot Navy women

I'll think of more later as I remember then. Copious amounts of alcohol and the contact high you get once you enter Athens County, you know. This list, of course, is not complete without the costumes of the people I know and love, such as a nearly complete character set from Alice in Wonderland from Miller Time, Jay Runner, Amy, Zach and many others, including such notables as Tweedledee, Tweedledum, the Mad Hatter, Alice, and the Cheshire Cat (and a hot one at that). Mike went as Li'l Mac of Punch Out fame, and Rachel went as what must be the shortest Flamingo ever. Nick's Joker was right off the pages of the comics and Julian standing out front of Goodfella's pizza as an Italian mobster was awesome, though he got confused with Tom Cruise's character from Collateral a lot.

Most worn costumes of '06? Well, Quail-Man made a good comeback and members of the clergy had a strong showing as well, some with childlike dolls attatcked to nether regions. Pun costumes such as the sex machine or chick magnet also were prevalent, but the most popular was all manner of superhero. Lots of Batman/woman (for Nick to, erm, joke with), Superman/woman, X-men of various types, Hulk, the aforementioned Quail-man and the Ambiguously Gay Duo were high on the repeated list, though Wonder Woman and Green Lantern were oddly absent. Those seemed like good ones to me. One of the Wolverines was fucking tight, but the rest seemed to have just pieced thier shit together. At least I knew we were safe with all of the super human capability around. Also, a shit-ton of Jim Tressels were around. Hey, at least nobody went as The Black Parade. I might have had to kill someone.

Wosrt costume? As much as I hate the referees, Teddy Ginns, Flavor Flavs and every other played out piece of crap like that, I have to say that the worst had to have been this nondescript cardboard box creature thing that we saw. I had no idea what it was. It was a strange mixture of Reptar and a Battlebot, but with a huge fiddler crab claw thing. Plus, it was unpainted and undecorated. Lazy bastard.

Best costume? I gotta give this one to myself. Under normal circumstances this might be percieved as narcissistic, but I feel that if the voting were left up to the good citizens of this blog that they would agree that an Optimus Prime that actually transforms into the semi-tractor trailer would win as well. How can you compete with a Transformer that really transforms? You can't. It's not possible. You know how you compete with that? You start to fight but then one of the many referees has to stop the slaughter because Optimus fucking Prime beat your ass into submission. That's how that happens.

While you lick your woulds from tripping over the flippers on your Scuba Steve costume and recover from your hangover that you got from ungodly amounts of Nati Ice and SoCo, remember that it's only 364 more days to next Halloween. A few thoughts on possible costumes for next year:

Statler and Waldorf
Buddha
hot construction worker
The Monarch from Venture Bros.
anybody from Never Ending Story
Olmec
hot leprechauns
Captain Morgan
hot Captain Morgan

Let me tell ya, nothing turns me on more that a hot pirate standing on a barrel asking if I want a little captain in me. The logistics of her getting a little captain in me as opposed to the other way around fail me at this time, but who cares? Nothing says Halloween quite like hot fake-bearded college pirate women.

That's pretty much all I got for this year. Score one for the good guys on this Halloween and see you all next year.

Die-Hard Fans

2006-10-23T05:06:00.000-04:00

Many baseball fans say that they would die for thier team to win a championship. Now they can go out in style after they pass on.

Starting next year Major League Baseball will start selling caskets and urns donned with team logos for the deceased superfan. The urns will be unveiled Opening Day next year and caskets will be available sometime later in the 2007 season. The caskets and urns will read, "Major League Baseball officially recognizes (person's name) as a lifelong fan of (team)," and have the logo of thier team of choice. As of now the only teams available for this dubious honor are the A's, Mets, Dodgers, Phillies, Yankees, Red Sox, Cardinals, Tigers and Cubs. I imagine many Cubs fans would prefer not to wait and just be buried now.

The company hopes to eventually make all 30 teams available as well as to make similar agreements with NASCAR and the NFL. No news yet on whether I can be buried in a Columbus Crew casket.

Over one thousand, yes that number is correct, inquiries have been made thus far about interest in the containers. You can get information yourself about, dare I say, caksetball (shabam!) on thier website at www.eternalimage.com or call them on thier toll-free number at, this is not a joke, 1-888-6-CASKET. I guess the 2- through 5-CASKET was taken.

It may seem ridiculous, but if the saying is true that God is a Yankees fan then it might not be a bad idea to go out with a little piece of the Bronx carrying you on your way out.

How to Have a Horrible Halloween

2006-10-22T03:17:00.000-04:00

It's that time of year again. There's a brisk chill in the air, you've started to be able to see your breath, and that geeky kid who lives in the room down the hall has started to brag about the kick-ass Optimus Prime costume he's attempting to make out of cardboard and duct tape. This can only mean one thing, people: Halloween is this coming weekend.

With less than 168 hours until the festivities start here at Ohio University next Saturday night (I'll wait for you to do that math), it seems only appropriate that, as we did last year, we at Horrible People give out some helpful hints for our readers to survive this Halloween.

Horrible Hint #1: Avoid this year's Cliche Costume

Two years ago, the cliche costumes were Napoleon Dynamite, Johnny Damon and pimps. Last year, The King (of Burger King fame), Li'l Jon and referees were the most popular. Avoid getting caught in the costume du jour at all costs! Not only will you appear to be completely void of creativity, but you will look like a douche bag. Seriously, if every third person is a referee, you get tired of whistles. So what should you avoid dressing up as this year? Here's a few on the watch list:
Ted Ginn, Jr. - Mostly for people who live in Ohio to worry about. No easier costume on the planet, just a #7 OSU jersey and bam! Instant costume. Definetly a no-no within 250 miles of the Horseshoe.
Warcraft Characters - The online sensation and the hugely popular South Park episode based on the game combine to create a costume to be avoided. The difficulty of getting a 5 foot broadsword past security might hamper the popularity of this one, so try it at your own risk.
Anything having to do with Puns - Stay away from the First Class Male, Deviled Egg, One Nightstand, etc. I love puns as much as the next guy, but the next guy I see dressed as a ketchup bottle that says 'Hold Me' (hold the ketchup, get it?) I am going to have to shoot in the kneecap. The fact that Captain Morgan has been advertising such costumes means they'll be doubly popular this year. Stay far away from these ones.
Flavor Flav - Viking Helmet + Clock Necklace. Enough said.

Horrible Hint #2: The Buddy System

It's not just for the deep end of the pool anymore. When you wear a costume that matches with one other person or many others you've got costume gold. Mario and Luigi are always high on this list, but why not get creative? Abbot and Costello perhaps. Too old school? Maybe a knight and a nemesis dragon battling for a princess, or how about Neil Everett and Scott Van Pelt of SportsCenter stardom. Why not grab that black/white friend (whichever race you ain't) of yours and go as Bacardi and Cola? They get the job done! Any of these could work to your advantage. Plan with caution, however, because no one is going to care about just one of the kids from Kriss Kross.

Horrible Hint #3: Plan for the Weather

It's going to be cold. It always is. It might rain. It might snow. You might step in police horse shit. So be prepared for the worst. Remember, water doesn't just come from the sky on Halloween. It also comes from the red plastic cup in the form of Nati that the drunks are carrying around as well, and rest assured that you will get spilled on. Many times. So remeber: dress in layers underneath that Ninja Turtle shell, or better yet go as something that is accustomed for cold weather. How about Na-Na and Po-Po, the Ice Climbers? What, too gay? Dress for the weather even if you don't get the NES reference. Also, waterproofing your cardboard/paint/whatever else isn't that big of a deal if you want to look like what you're dressed as after it starts drizzling. A side note: this pretty much just goes for guys, as the women will be skantily clad no matter what thier costumes are. Hey, sexy Na-Na and Po-Po...

Well that's what I have for you this year, folks. Happy Halloween, and good trick or treating to you.

What's that you say? What am I going to be this Halloween? I'll give you a hint: Remember that geeky kid who lives down the hall?

America Turns 300... Million

2006-10-16T03:56:00.000-04:00

Well done America, you've done it. And done it. And done it some more.

Because we Americans have done it so much, the US Census Bureau predicts that the United States will top the 300 million person milestone sometime on Tuesday, October 17th, 2006. What they don't know, however, is what race, religion, sexual orientation, or any other distinguishing characteristics the newest American might have. In fact, they don't even know if the landmark resident will be a newborn. It might be an illegal immigrant.

For those of you who question our government's ability to count to 300 million, the US Census people have a nifty little equation for you: on average, there is a baby born in the United States once every 7 seconds, an immigrant (legal or otherwise) enters the US once every 31 seconds and one person leaves thier mortal coil as an American citizen once every 13 seconds. My quick math skills tell me that's a net gain of 1 new resident every 11 seconds.

When the good ol' US of A hit the 200 million mark way back in 1967, 62 years after we set the 100 mil' mark in 1905, foreign born residents made up a measly %5 of the population. Since then, thanks in part to Mexico and Cuba being generally crappy places to live, that number has grown to %12. Put another way, immigrants and their children and grandchildren have accounted for more than half of the population increase in the United States since 1967, which makes sense because we've added another tenth of a billion in less than half the time it took us to get there the time previous, this time taking our reproductive organs only 39 years to add all those bundles of joy.

So we don't really know what that lucky 300 millionth resident's genetic makeup will be, but if I know anything about our government then I know this: when number 300 million sees the 400 millionth happy customer arrive (which the Census predicts will happen in 2040) at age 34, I'm sure that they'll be happy to have the war in Iran be nearly completed.

The YKK Conspiracy

2006-10-15T02:48:00.000-04:00

There are many conspiracy theories out there, but some are especially juicy. The faking of the moon landing from a film studio. The assassination of JFK actually coming from the Grassy Knoll. The possibility that Joanie didn't really love Chachie. But one conspiracy theory has topped them all in interest and in mystery: the YKK conspiracy.

Okay, maybe the JFK thing is more important and blah blah blah, but this thing is cool nonetheless. I mean, why is it that every zipper has YKK written on them? You wanna know? Huh? Well then, gather round my children for the story of El Chupacabra. Oh, wrong story. Okay, then how about the story of why YKK is stamped on all the zippers.

Here's a bit of zipper history. The clasp locker, as it was then called, was invented in 1891 by Whitcomb L. Judson, who also won the prestigious 'Most Old-Timey Name Award' later that same year. The clasp locker was an assemblage of hooks and eyes that Judson thought would save people time (and sore backs) when fastening their shoes with one hand. Later, in 1913, Gideon Sundback of Sweden developed the predecessor of today's modern newfangled zipper that used metal teeth and patented it in 1917. Later, the B.F. Goodrich Company (that's right, the tire people) used the separable fastener in some rubber boots and came up with the name 'zipper' because the boots could be fastened with one hand (and because separable fasterner doesn't have pizzaz to it; you gotta sell it, people).

"Well, get to the point already, why is it YKK?" I'm getting to it. Founded in Japan in 1934 by Yoshida Tadao, Sanesu Shokai was a group of manufacturing companies. Headquartered in Nihonbashi, Japan, the company was renamed Yoshida Kogyo-sho in 1938 and once more renamed Yoshida Kogyo Kabushiki-kaisha in 1945. You didn't really need to know any of that; I just thought those were fun words to type. Sixty years later the company put a stop to all that tomfoolery and changed its name to the now easily recognizable (and not garbled mess of sounds) YKK Company in 1994. Today, YKK is still headquartered in Japan and is made up of 80 companies at 206 facilities in 52 countries.

Keep that in mind the next time your jeans are around your ankles and you're taking a dump. The zipper holds more secrets than just what's in your pants.

Dude, October Is So Gay

2006-10-09T05:56:00.000-04:00

As you may or may not care, October is gay, lesbian, and transgender month. The Human Rights Campain (HRC) would have you believe that the reason you should care about gay rights is that sexual preference should have nothing to do with whether or not you have equal rights as a citizen and that there need not be any more said on the subject in order to gain support. Hippies. They know nothing about marketing. They think that just because they're supportive of a good cause they can get money. Well, there are plenty of good causes out there that get no money anyway, like the People for the Advancement of Bass Fishermen or the Scurvy Research Institute, while the AIDS and Cancer research groups get tons of money. Why? Celebrities. It's the bandwagon effect. "All the cool kids are giving thier money to help the crisis in Darfur, why aren't you?" When you have a poster child like Lance Armstrong shilling for your cause who isn't going to throw piles of cash at you? That's why I think that the HRC needs to have a poster child. Here are a few suggestions:

Sigfried and Roy
Pros: These two flaming piles of manmeat have been together (in the biblical sense, if you know what I'm saying) for a long time, proving that gay couples can be long lasting and productive in society. Thier magic act and stage show has brought joy to millions of old people and repressed businessmen vacationing in Vegas for what seems like forever. Also, they have a built in tagline: "Together we can make homophobia... Disappear!" Then a guy in overalls and a trucker hat would vanish from your television screen. I can see the 30 second spot in the Super Bowl already.
Cons: Thier thick yet indistinct European accents make me yearn for the days of the silent movie. In addition, the powerful pro-tiger lobby might be serious opposition if they were chosen as figureheads.

Sir Ian McKellen
Pros: Acclaimed Shakespearean actor, Sci-Fi movie icon, and wrinkly faced Englishman would not only provide the cause with domestic as well as international appeal (I mean, he was knighted) but also could kill bigots and Klansmen with the balls of iron and steel he made out of paperweights. Wait, he can't actually do that? Damn. Well, he's still a knight. That counts for something. Also, he's a fantastic actor and would definetly secure the Hollywood elite (as if they weren't pro-gay before)
Cons: He's a creepy old gay dude. Probably lures high schoolers into his house with promises of candy and video games. Gives me the willies.

George Takei
Pros: Most well known as Sulu from the original Star Trek, George was one of the first Asians to have a major role on network television and openly gay actors. Could tap into the traditionally stodgy Asian population as well as the traditionally secluded geek population, who usually prefer to stay cocooned in thier rooms and play WoW rather than join a cause.
Cons: Has wanted to blow William Shatner for 40 years. Also, people would pronounce his name wrong all the time (it's Tak-AY, not Tak-EYE).

Ellen Degeneres
Pros: Absurdly popular comedienne and daytime talk show host has universal appeal, from 16 year old lesbians to 55 year old lesbians. I imagine straight women like her too. Plus she's dating Porche de Rossi who is freakin' hot as balls, and everybody loved hot lesbian-actress-on-lesbian-comedienne action. Most importantly, everyone likes Ellen. Even if it's just a little bit.
Cons: Whereas men like hot lesbians (preferably in a baby pool filled with Jell-O), Ellen isn't what most men would call 'hot.' Also, once dated Anne Heche, which could hurt her street cred.

Hope this was some food for thought, HRC, and try to remember that the other 11 months aren't gay (but I think February is bi-curious).

Reuben tells you why your Favorite Music sucks, Part III: Panic! at the Disco

2006-09-08T15:26:00.000-04:00

I really didn't think that it could be possible that I dislike a band more than My Chemical Romance. Truly, I didn't. But imagine my shock when I came to the realization that I dislike MCR less than another band on this planet. That would be like finding out that I hate a vegetable more than I hate brussel sprouts, or that I would prefer to listen to Mencia than to some other comedian. I shudder at the thought. But somehow, some way, I have found a group of people that call themselves musicians and record the noises that they make with thier instruments that I find to be more unpleasant than any of that: Panic! at the Disco. Let me tell you why:

1. I Write Long Ass Song Titles Not Tragedies

Is it really necessary to have a sentence for a song title? Why can't you just call the song 'Tragedy' or something like that? There's really no need for this. And it's not just one song either. 'London Beckoned Songs About Money Written By Machines' has 8 words in it right there. 'Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off,' that one has 14. 'There's A Good Reason These Tables Are Numbered Honey, You Just Haven't Thought Of It Yet.' Jesus Christ, 16. Some songs are shorter than that. Also, most of the song titles are non-sequitors and have nothing to do with the songs themselves. At least that's what I assume, seeing as I've never had the patience nor the musical fortitude to sit through an entire P!atD song, but I imagine that every one of thier songs boils down to 'I'm so sad about (fill in the blank), why can my pain be stopped.' That has nothing to do with writing anything, let alone sins or tragedies. That really grinds my gears.

2. Blatant! Misuse of Punctuation

What the hell is that? An exclamation point in the middle of the sentence? What the fuck? I guess it's supposed to be a clever twist on... I don't know, I think they just thought it looked cool. What if I went around putting punctuation in the middle= of my fucking sentences? You would think that/ I was retarded. Not the high functioning retarded either, more like Rain Man but without the being good at math.

3. The Only Difference Between Panic! and Suicide is I Haven't Killed Myself Yet

The music is bad, but honestly, how terrible are these lyrics? Something about trophy wives I think in one of those songs. One about praying for a lap dance, too, which is odd because I'm pretty sure they are all homosexual. Not that there's anything wrong with that; it's just ironic to me. I couldn't make out a lot of the lyrics. Once again, my ears just couldn't take the onslaught of awful attempts at deep lyrics combined with the complete lack of musical talent. Plus the lead singer warbles instead of pronouncing his words correctly. Very distracting.

4. Disco Sucks

This is not an opinion, it is a commonly accepted fact. I addressed this in an earlier post, and made the point that the only redeeming part about disco was that you could dance to it. Why would you name your band after such a terrible movement in music? A musical movement that was more concerned with appearances than musical talent or depth. A movement with completely incomprehensible lyrics. A movement with singers whose voices were so mangled and tweaked that a translator would have trouble understanding them. Actually, you know what? Now that I think about it, it's a perfect fit.

Except that you can't even dance to Panic.

My Very Excited Mother Just Served Us Nine Pizzas

2006-09-05T16:29:00.000-04:00

It's a montra that second through fifth graders countrywide know like the back of thier own Trapper Keepers. Even before I learned to pick up a spork in the combination caferteria/gymnasium/auditorium at my old elementary school I learned that there were nine planets in our solar system. It has been a standard I have lived by without question for the past decade or so of my life, but now that truth that I believed to be absolute has turned out to be not so, for Pluto has been officially demoted to... dwarf planet.

The International Astronomical Union (or 'geeks' for short) banished Pluto from the solar system in August. The argument, they say, against Pluto's planetness is that if Pluto is allowed to be a planet then three other large astronomical balls of mass, namely Charon, Ceres, and 2003 UBI 313, that revolve around the Sun would have to be included as well, making a grand total of 12 planets. Rather than admit these new guys into the club the IAU made the decision to kick Pluto out.

But fear not, for your little cousin's cardboard and coat hanger mobile may be saved yet. A handful of websites and organizations have come to Pluto's aid. T-shirts saying things like 'Anything Charon can do Pluto can do better' or 'Pluto does it with an Elliptical Radius' have popped up on the net. Check out this little gem of a bumper sticker from the good people at Cafe Press:

Awesome. I'm putting that on my Saturn.

Alas, this valiant effort to readmit Pluto may be a lost cause. Sadly, with the IAU making this decision it may become a cold reality that My Very Excited Mother Just Served Us...

Nothing.

Corpus Colossus

2006-08-29T16:44:00.000-04:00

Don't call it a comeback.

You thought we'd given up. Come on, you can be honest with us. You thought we'd abandoned you. No, really, it's okay to think that we blew our brains out with buckshot after listening to that new AFI pile of shit for the thousanth time. Maybe you thought we'd thrown ourselves into the path of an oncoming Amtrak after having been witness to Barry Manilow beating out Stephen Colbert for 'Best Variety Show Performance' Emmy this past week. Yes, you heard me right: Barry Manilow. Perhaps you thought I had myself guillotined because I got the dreaded 12-13 wraparound pick in my fantasy draft. Well, fear not. Though these things may make me want to bash my head in with some sort of blunt object the Horrible People have returned to keep your souls out of heaven and your minds in the gutters. It's time to go back to work at the same old stand. Let's get to it, shall we?

I have been doing very little this summer. I work part time at a pizza shop here in Bexley, but other than that I watch TV and smoke hookah. For those of you who don't know what hookah is, please remember that you are no longer 'hip' and then consult someone who wasn't born before 1978. As a televisionoholic I find myself watching terrible shows, and more specifically terrible stand-up comedy specials, constantly. Everywhere I turn there's some Chris Rock wannabe or peeved mother of two whose mad as hell about 'the kids these days, what with the clothes and the hair and the music television.' I have found that many comedians that I find unfunny do a bit (during thier brief time in the spotlight before slinking back into darkness) about the differences between men and women and then make observations that are neither funny nor insightful. So I thought I'd try my hand at attempting to do either.

One of the main differences between men and women is the connection between the left and right brain halves. The right brain has more to do with the artistic and emotional functions and the left brain has more to do with the logical and logistical functions. The bridge that connects the two is called the Corpus Callosum and, scientifically speaking, it has been shown that women have bigger ones. This is why women can do two things at once, like, say, masturbate and think about counting carbs. Men can't do that. Even if it's something men really like we can't think about it while masturbating. 'Ooooh, my God! 1967 Maserati!' Doesn't happen. We're only thinking one thing: 'I hope i locked the door.' That's it for us. But since women can multitask they can do that. But it's still a trade off. Since the logical part of a woman's brain is more closely linked to the emotional part it also means that every little decision is potentially emotionally important, which is why it takes 45 minutes for a woman to get ready to go out because in thier mind if they wear the wrong pair of shoes there could be drastic psychological reprecussions. Men don't have to deal with that, but since we can't multitask as well we have to turn down the radio in the car when we're trying to find an exit ramp. It's a trade off.

Also, women cry when you punch 'em. That one is pretty cut and dried.

Freakin' Hoser

2006-06-04T10:43:00.000-04:00

Let me ask you something: Assume that Amare Stoudamire, the Suns' leading scorer and rebounder two seasons ago, returns from injury and some how Shawn Marion, the Suns' leading scorer and rebounder this season, goes on the DL. Assume that, just as they did this year, the majority of sports' reporters and experts say that as a result of this huge blow to the team, the Suns will not even make the playoffs. Now assume that, just as happened this year, Steve Nash puts the city of Phoenix's basketball hopes on his shoulders, the team makes it to the conference finals, seven Suns' players have career years, Nash leads the league in assists (again) and has 20 points per game, and now they're voting for the league's MVP. Who you gonna call?

Kobe? A joke to even ask. Kobe is Peyton Manning. Come back to me when you have a ring or two (on your own, please; Nash didn't have the most dominant player of the past 10 years in the paint when he got those MVPs). Speaking of that 7-foot behemoth, how about Shaq's MVP hopes? Doubtful. His back and knees (not to mention lungs) aren't what they used to be. Also, shooting a free-throw percentage comparable to most batting averages doesn't help. Lebron? Possibly. I imagine he will one day be the MVP ten straight times, but next year? That hypothetical year I dreamed up was a good one for the Canuck, and Zydrunas isn't getting any younger to help in the lane (he's got worse knees than FDR). Plus, after Z the next on the star wagon is Larry Hughes, who is coming off of an emotionally and physically challenging season. 'Bron-bron is going to need to get close to that triple-double average everyone keeps talking about to pull that off (also, making it past the second round would help). What about B-B-B-Billups? Not a prayer. Come on now, if Chauncey wins that'll be a Fancy Day. How about Dirty Dirk? Aren't we all Nowitznesses? Please. Play D occasionally. You tower over everyone on the floor and you play like a 2-guard who's allergic to the paint. Block a shot and grab a board once and a while.

I'm tired of all this anti-Nash bull. Sure, he looks like a 12-year-old girl (and an ugly one at that), but there's no denying he had an MVP caliber year. Let the hosers win once and a while. Especially when the earn it.

Scheduling Conflicts

2006-05-25T20:05:00.000-04:00

Seeing as Ohio University students began scheduling for classes for the fall quarter recently, I thought I might suggest a few classes that should be added to the school's curriculum. Considering the useless pile of crap I use to fill up my quarter with now (like the Aegean Archaeology course I'm taking this quarter and Buddhism in the fall) I think that we could add some more pertinant classes to our collective resumes. Here's a short list of courses that OU should consider:

DRIV 101: Basic Driving Skills
TTh 2-4 p.m.
4 cred.

"But why do we need another driving course if we already have our license?" Because you are all terrible drivers. Every single one of you. I'm talking to you, 'can't parallel park without pulling in and out of reverse a dozen times' guy. And you, 'forget to put your headlights on in the pouring rain' gal. Especially all of you members of the 'doesn't flip the turn signal until you're halfway through your turn already' club. You should be able to learn these simple basics given the two hour blocks of early afternoon time (when the least amount of pedestrians should be out). The final will be held on a Friday from 5-7 in rush hour traffic. In a thunderstorm. With three of your drunken friends in the back seat giving you directions. That'll learn ya.

LANG 178: Entry Level AIM Language
MTWThF 11 a.m.-12 p.m.
5 cred.

In this hour long daily course, you will learn the important basics. You will learn which emoticons are to be used in which situation and which abbreviations are to be taken seriously and which to be regarded as purely sarcastic. You will learn to decode unneccesarily cryptic away messages and profile song and poem lyrics. The basics of AIM name choosing and buddy icon recognition and representation. Perhaps most importantly, the art and science of creating separate compartments in your buddy list. This may be the most important class you will ever take.

DRIV 213: Parking Ticket/Violation Avoidance
MW 3-5 p.m.
4 cred.

As a prerequisite for this class, you must have already taken DRIV 101 and passed with a C average or better. The institution will not tolerate abhorrently bad drivers who can now avoid parking tickets. Included in this course are tips and tricks to avoid parking tickets as well as having to pay for on-campus parking at Ohio University. Things like moving your car according to the parking attendant's schedule for checking the lots, parking in lots that are not checked by campus police, having generic looking 'Staff' or 'Student Parking' stickers and window hangers to throw off the parking police, and utilizing printer/copier technology to fabricate your own 'parking pass' (use at your own risk).

DRGM 267: Advanced Drinking Games
ThF 9-11 p.m.
4 cred.

Though no prerequisites are needed for this class, it is strongly suggested that only upperclassmen with high tolerances for extreme amounts of alcohol take this class. Games and events such as classics like cornhole and beer pong are breifly touched on and rehashed, but most of the participants of the class will have played these games anough to not need more than a week or two to study them. More in depth games like the keg stand, flip cup, and beer bonging are to be perfected, and new games such as Avalanche and Noah's Ark will be taught. This class is B.Y.O.B.

LANG 1337: 1337
MW 12-1 p.m., F lab section
4 cred.

Since the beginning of the internet, hackers have utilized 1337 (or 'leet') to communicate without getting caught or deciphered. The code is no longer a secret (considering the fact that it's just numbers that look like letters), but it's still pretty cool. Ub3r Pwn4g3! Also, learn the correct pronumciation of words like Pwn, Nwb, o0o, and many more. A must-take class for any geek.

Hey, any of those would be much more important than knowing anything at all about Aegean Archaeology.

Horse Shit

2006-05-18T20:38:00.000-04:00

Taking into account the firestorm of controversy my latest post ignited, I thought that my next post should be about something we can all agree on:

Horse racing sucks.

Do you disagree? No, of course not. You know why? Because less people care about horse racing than Major League Soccer. The only thing worse than horse racing is Nascar, because at least the monotony of horse racing is over in two minutes. I bring up the fact that horse racing sucks because there is a very important horse race this weekend. I'll give you one guess at what it is. Kentucky Derby? WRONG! See? Didn't know that, did ya? Okay, here's a tougher one: if you can tell me with complete certainty what state the race is run in I'll give you a nickel. Don't know? Yeah, me neither. Nor do I care. Nobody does.

Way back in the twenties horse racing was one of the 'big three' popular American sports: horse racing, baseball, and boxing. Winning jockeys were treated like kings and the horses they rode to victory were 'put out to stud,' meaning that if they won a few important races by the time they retired they could have sex with every hot piece of mare they could get their hooves on. But today? Horse racing has obviously become irrelevant. Boxing, though not to the extent of horse racing, has largely fallen out of favor with the American public as well. Both of these sports were largely hampered by mafia controlled gambling in the first half of the century, and more recently boxing has been negatively impacted by incidents involving greedy boxing managers and ear biting. Sadly, baseball is on its way down too. What was once American pastime has been replaced by football and basketball and is now just America's past. Steroids, inflating payrolls, inflating egos, corked bats, poor managment, and many other intangibles came together to make baseball ready to go down the tubes as well. It's sad, really.

Anyway, back to putting small men in colorful spandex on the backs of large land mammals and having people bet on which one will be the fastest to the white line. Nobody watches horse racing like people watch basketball or something. By that I mean that there aren't people who tune in to watch every event the way people watch every first round game of the NCAA tournament. It doesn't happen. And horse racing would garner zero interest is there was not a gambling aspect to it. The only reason they get as many viewers as they do is because you can get 50-1 on Bumbling Bayou, 13-2 on Jester's Monkey, and 3-1 on the favorite Uncle Yanush. There are those who make the bets and those who place the bets, and that is the entirety of the horse racing community. Do you know a horse racing fan? Somebody who has a Secretariat poster over their bed the way people have MJ or Shaq? Doesn't happen. Horse racing is no longer necessary. Get it away from me.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have some Major League Soccer to watch.

The Tenth Circle of Hell

2006-05-15T06:31:00.000-04:00

Those of you who know us know that the only thing we spend more time on than comedy is poker. Ordinarily I wouldn't bring these two subjects together, but an experience that I had this weekend forced me to make these worlds collide. This post has nothing to do with the VFW we frequent every Wednesday, with its patriotic flare and thick clouds of smoke, nor does it pretain specifically to our Sunday cash game full of strange characters and soon-to-be college dropouts. No, this is about the Chauncey (pronounced CHANCE-ee) game that Miller and I visited Saturday.

Allow me to start by telling you how we got to this particular game. What we did was we drove up route 33 towards Columbus and turned off the The Plains-Chauncey exit and turned right at the intersection. Once you have done that you have, as far as I am concerned, left planet Earth and landed on the planet Stereotypical White Trash Wasteland. Most of the things seen from my car while in Chauncey were what I once thought to be unfair and biased charicatures of white trash America, but there they are in their full-on rundown splendor in front of me. On your left you see the shell of what once must have been a house, but now resembles an army training facility in that it looks like nothing but a bombed-out series of cinder block walls with a full grown tree poking out where the roof once was and underbrush flourishing inside. On your right is what appears to be the scene from Stand by Me when they were walking down the railroad tracks, but instead of Keifer Sutherland and River Phoenix I see people who more resemble the fat kid from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and Joe Dirt. Further down the street is the house that matches the pick-up truck parked outside: half-white, half-blue with primer in patches. Abandon all hope, all ye who enter Chauncey.

The list goes on, but I'll cut to the peice de resistance.

This poker game used to take place at the Chauncey Am-Vets which was ridiculous in its own way, but per the Ohio regulation of not being allowed to serve alcohol and hold a gambling event in the same building it was moved to the Lions' Club down the street. Trust me, whenever the directions include 'turn off the paved road' you know you're in trouble. So what did we do? If you said 'we turn off the paved road' you are right. You get a gold star. We made our way to the 'new' building, new used here meaning new to us, because it was quite obvious at the sight of it to be as old and worn out as every line of dialogue in every episode of 'Friends.' Not twenty yards from my parking spot is the remnants of a two story house fire that no one has seen fit to replace or even bulldoze. Parked next to it is a semi truck with a trailer. Maybe that's their new house, I wouldn't know. I didn't go and ask. Anyway, the Lions' Club itself is located in an old train station set far back from the street. The building can only be forty or so feet long and at most fifteen feet wide, directly next to active train tracks. It has two rooms. Two rooms make up the entire Lions' Club. Surrounding me on all sides is typical blue-color Bush supporting goodness. How out of place do I feel in my '98 Mercury Sable covered in alternative rock bumper sticker and wearing college t-shirt? Very.

Nothing really went down at the game. The trains went by three or four times and shook the whole building and Nascar was on the tube whole time we were there. Of course the players were terrible. That's about it.

This post kind of petered out toward the end. It was building, building, building, and then bupkis. Maybe I should've made fun of Larry the Cable Guy or said that, "we could all learn a little from Mao Tse-Tong," to make this post more exciting. I'll try to start a hick-fight next time.

All Your Base are Belong to Us

2006-05-11T04:40:00.000-04:00

We can't say they didn't warn us. "The Apocalypse is upon us!" "The end as we know it!" "Repent now!" "Will work for food!"

Maybe not that last one, but the others are pretty acurate. As correctly predicted by countless homeless unshaven pee-ridden guys in Times Square and other metropolitan cesspools, technology is on the verge of taking complete control of all of our lives (moreso than it already has). We are already consumed by cell phones, television, and, most importantly, blogs (we know you love us), but some new products are coming out to finish the job that the trebucher and the Gutenberg press started. So how 'bout a quick rundown of the bits of metal and plastic that will add to the science-fiction hell we are plummeting towards? Sound good? Let's go.

How ridiculous is this Nintendo Wii? I'll wait for you to look at the link. Absurb, right? Well, Nintendo decided to get back in the videojuegos business, and this is their triumphant return. What is it, you ask? First of all, it's pronounced 'we,' as in you and I put together. We, Wii. Got it? Okay. Next, it's a garage door opener attatched via firewire to a vibrator. Did I say vibrator? I meant joystick (though I bet it would be more popular if it were a vibrator). Original it was going to be called 'Revolution,' but the Nintendo heads figured that the Japanese would have trouble with all the Rs and Ls. "Levorution." Doesn't roll of the tongue. Anyway, this will soon consume you all. I know you all need your occasional dose of a new Smash Brothers game.

Other ridiculous Japanese imports? The new Toyota Yaris. Go look it up. Sure, the car looks cool and gets 40 mpg highway, but the commercials are absurb. True, I know nothing about the safety quality or how many cupholders it has, but what I do know is that the commercials are the single greatest 30 seconds of television I have seen since they took the Aqua-Velva commercials off the air. Start your day with a splash! Burst onto the horizon! I digress. The Yaris commercial I like the best is one with what looks like a spider, but has gas pump handles for legs, and it's thorax is a clear gas tank. So this abomination is making its way across the screen when the camera pans out and who do you suppose rolls up? The Yaris. And the spider thing knows some shit is about to go down. It does what any other spider would do: it says 'Rawr!' Trust me, that's what spiders would do if they could. So the gas tank spider is trying to back away and WHAM! It gets fucking run over! That'll teach you to be a spider! Then the Yaris opens its gas tank and drinks the gas from the now quite dead animal's carcass and drives away. Fucking craziest commercial I've ever seen. I'd watch it non-stop if I could. Highly suggested viewing material.

Bluetooth earpieces are also gaining in popularity. I hate this. These things are making me look ridiculous for answering someone's "how's it going?" with a "I'm fine, thanks, how're you," when in fact they're talking into some tiny brightly colored headset. Now I'm the one that looks retarded for being polite. Excuse me, I thought you were taking a chance and asking a complete stranger if they wanted to go get a drink later, but it turns out you're talking to your offensive coordinator up in the booth. My bad. Asshole. One good thing about the Bluetooth crap is that you can be talking to yourself and no one would second guess it. Assuming you have long hair so as to cover your ear (and most crazy people don't cut their hair; they're too busy being fucking insane), you can be having a shouting match with the voices in your head and the business elite that work in the building you sleep in the doorway of will just think that the Mexico City proposal didn't go through as you had planned, when in fact they just told you to kill your parents or rape your dog. Now your out of your gourd, but with 1500 anytime minutes and double the bars!

This brings me to another point I want to make; why can't cell phones have names that make sense? It's either a random series of numbers and letter like LG 3600 or a name some marketing associate made up to sound edgy and cool like Razr, Pebl, Switchback, or Whateverthefuck (that last one is mine; you know you want that phone).

So before we all die from the Terminators and the I, Robots and the Whateverthefucks (it's sweeping the nation already), have fun with the technology while you can. We've created a monster that will destroy mankind as we know it, but we may as well have streaming video along the way.

Go Forth and Be Funny, Part IV: When Bad Things Happen to Horrible People

2006-05-02T20:26:00.000-04:00

The Lord spoke to Hurricane, saying, "Lo! Heed my word, for I am the Lord."

And Hurricane said, "That's crap. I've seen 'The Ten Commandments,' and you're no spinning helix of flame. You're a dismembered voice. This is just one of those people in my head again, isn't it? Listen, I've been going to my meetings and my therapist says that I'm doing well, so I shouldn't be hearing voices at all any more. Plus, who says 'heed' anymore anyway? Don't piss down my leg and tell me..."

"Silence! Hurricane, you and your friends have had a good influence on the internet. Your cutting sarcasm and your dry wit, they comfort many. But you have been unfaithful. You have been using your blog for other purposes than for the literary good. You have used your powers for evil: to advertise your stand up comedy shows. Nothing is wrong with your stand-up; your word can be spread any way you like. But this conflict has led to your demise. "

"Our demise? What are you talking about?"

"Your power ranking on Top-Blogs has fallen out of the top 100. You have allowed pansy ass bitches like 'The Floater Blog' and 'Bitter Blog' to sneak ahead of you. Even 'Jay-Walking' is ahead of you, and they haven't updated since November. That is just sad. 'Why is this happening,' you may ask. 'Why do bad things happen to Horrible People?' The answer is simple: you haven't had a new post with anything to say non-stand-up related for a week, and the last time one of your compatriots wrote anything new was more than three weeks a go, a post by Miller about, what else, your stand-up comedy show. So I say this to you:"

"Yeah?"

"Get your shit together. I may have to put 'All Things Good' and 'Haggis Ain't Cake' back in front of you if you aren't careful. You don't want that, do you?"

"No, sir."

"Good. Then I expect great things from Horrible People. Remember, I'll be watching you."

"Okay. Hey, God?"

"Yes?"

"You want to come to our stand-up show on Friday?"

More Stand-Up than you can Shake a Stick at!

2006-05-01T04:31:00.000-04:00

Well, I guess you can shake a stick at it if you really want to, but it won't do you any good. We're going to do our thing. The good news for you is that you can come and see.

Nick, Jeff, and Reuben
Friday, May 5th
11 p.m.
The Front Room, Baker Center

So you go ahead and shake that stick as much as you want. We're doing this show anyway.

Show Time at the Front Room

2006-04-28T01:55:00.000-04:00

Hello there, horrible people. Looking for something fun and exciting to do tomorrow night? Of course you are. Check this out: Miller and myself will be doing our famous brand of charcoal-mellowed comedy that you know and love tomorrow night at midnight. You want to know more? Here's the specifics:

Who: Myself, Nick, and 6 other comedians
What: Stand-up Showcase
When: 12 am midnight, Friday April 29 (night of April 28th)
Where: Front Room, Baker Center, Athens Ohio

Now I know what you're all thinking: where's Runner? He'll be competing in an Ultimate tournament in Chicago. Sucks for that guy.

We hope to see you all there.

Judge Not, Lest Ye Be Judged

2006-04-25T11:06:00.000-04:00

You know what I hate? All of this political correctness. It's such hypocritical bullshit. There isn't a single person on planet Earth who can look at a person and not judge them, even a little bit. Personally, I know I still clutch my purse whenever a black man comes on the elevator with me.

I'm not saying we should judge people arbitrarily. I'm just saying that we should take into account certain aspects of a person's race, national origin, color, religion, gender, age, weight, veteran status, sexual orientation, personal hygiene habits, political affiliation, mental health, and ability to perform sexually before handing them the keys. That's all.

You folks feel free to stick with your high and mighty 'judge not by the color of your skin but by the content of your character' and see where it gets you. I'll tell you where it gets you. It gets you shot in the head. Think about it, everybody who has come out and tried to bring about world peace, they're gone. Martin Luther King, Jr. BANG! Dead. John F. Kennedy. BANG! Dead. Yitzhak Rabin. BANG! Dead. Ghandi. BANG! Dead. Abraham Lincoln. BANG! Dead. Jesus... BAM, BAM, BAM! Dead. You see what I'm saying? You can't just trust everyone unconditionally. Some people ruin it for the rest of us, and this veneer of being polite to everyone and making sure no one hurts anybody else's feelings is in the way of solving the problem.

(I guess you need the visual for the Jesus one there, but you're all smart people. Figure it out.)

You go ahead and get on the plane with Mohammed and Habib. By the way, we didn't check them at the gate because we believe everybody to be trustworthy citizens of the world. We aren't exactly sure why his sandals are ticking, but I'm sure it's nothing. I'm sure his shirt just looks lumpy because he didn't have time to iron it after the business luncheon and not because he has 14 pounds of C-4 bricks strapped to his chest. But don't worry about it, because you don't judge people. I'm sure Oliver Stone will make you a fitting tribute.

I'm not trying to start a fight, people. All I'm saying is that once we recognize our differences, instead of ignoring them, we can truly get at what's wrong with the world. Right now, political correctness is in the way of acheiving that. Most people are good, and it's not as if the bad ones are all of one sect of the population.

Instead of racism or bigotry or anything else getting in the way, we can finally get past all of that. We can finally hate people for being the douche bags that they really are.

Tha Case of ACRN v. Horrible Radio

2006-04-18T19:08:00.000-04:00

Well folks, it's been about three months since you're favorite comedy trio was fired from the All College Radio Network and we have some interesting developments for you. First, here's a short recap of the story:

(ripple effect)

At the beginning of winter quarter, our heroes (we three of the H.P.) sought to begin a partnership with ACRN, an internet radio station at Ohio University. The combination, we thought, of college radio and our 'Horrible' comedy could have a wonderful effect on listenership (aka, more listeners) as well as the entertainment quality of the station. In return, the broadcasts would expand our fanbase, bringing more people to our live shows and website, where in turn we could advertise in front of our fans for the radio show, etcetera. It seemed a match made in heaven.

We were approved for the show in late January for an hour on Friday nights 7-8 p.m. and scheduled to begin February 3rd, with special guest local/recording legend Bruce Dalzell. Midway through the week, having not advertized for the show ahead of time, we elected to make fliers. One of the two designs was this one:

We put those up on the night of February 1st. By the night of February 2nd, over half of the fliers were taken down and by Friday all but a few remained. We were called in to have a meeting the Programming VP of ACRN and we were informed that not only would we be not on the air that night, but that we were immediatly terminated. This meeting took place five hours before 'Horrible Radio' was to premier. Thus ends the story of our heroes.

(fade to black)

Or is it?

Why were we fired, you might ask? The flier you see above you was cited as the cause of our termination. We were informed that the flier could cause a station that has been around for over 30 years to have its funding pulled if we were not fired promptly. The content, we were told, was the main issue. Also included in the reasoning for our dismissal was the fact that we didn't consult the Programming department in creating our fliers before putting them up. That is what we were told on February 3rd.

Our sources tell us that the story told at the meeting the following Sunday of our conspicuous disappearance was not the content of the flier, but the fact that we hung fliers without permission or consultation from the Advertising department. I'll say that again: the content was not cited as the reason for our dismissal.

Odd, right? That the reason for our being fired wasn't shared with the other DJs? Ponder that for a minute.

To bring you up to date since that time, we have pretty much stopped trying to get a radio show, on ACRN or otherwise. The VP we were cancelled by didn't like us and we won't have a show on the station as long as that person is still in the organization. The plan now is pretty much to wait 'til that person graduates and then see if we still want to do the radio show.

Instead of trying to continue our internet radio endeavors, we have elected to put our skills to other uses. Jay, Miller, and myself have all continued our stand-up and have gained much popularity in recent months. We have started the Ohio University Stand-Up Comedy Club and have recieved nothing but the best reaction from those who we are working with to make the group a success. We should be formed officially as a campus recognized group by the end of the quarter and have events starting in the fall. We are once again trying to create 'Horrible People' the television show on Athens Video Works and should we get approval from AVW this spring we will have episodes airing in the fall.

I haven't heard much from the guy making the new web site recently so I'm not sure how soon completion is, however upon completion the official 'Horrible People' web site will be the new home of not only this comedy blog (which I'm sure you all check obsessively like the away messages of a crush you have), but also a place for you to see episodes of 'Horrible People' television, watch video and listen to recorded stand-up comedy from your favorite comedians (meaning us) and other stand-up from around OU (meaning not us). In addition, it will have rare recordings of our short stint on ACRN, including our infamous 'Gambler' incident, and also photos, news, calendar of events, and much more.

As you can see, we've gotten past the loathing of our once-partners for what we think was unfair treatment. Recently, an altercation (taking place entirely within the world of an AIM box) between a DJ on duty at ACRN and Miller Time caused us to take action. The DJ initiated the conversation (and the ensuing debacle) with Miller and proceeded to insult him and 'Horrible People.' Miller, in turn, used his superior comedic talent, biting sarcasm, and brain skills (aka mind bullets) to disarm and befuddle the stunned creature of the night. Miller would have put the contents of the conversation (and the DJ's spliced innards) on this site for your enjoyment, but closed the box by accident before copying its contents.

Horrible People doesn't want to create a blood feud, nor do we wish to cut ties with all members in ACRN. Indeed, we would like to be the hosts of 'Horrible Radio' once more and don't want to create anger. We do plan, however, on gracing our former club members with our presence at the next meeting. We have a few reasons for doing this. One, and most important to me, the Programming director still has the cassettes with our remaining radio recordings (including the infamous 'Gambler' incident). Two, we feel that we were misrepresented when the powers that be told the other DJs the story of our termination and that they deserve to hear it from us. Three, we refuse to let arbitrary positions of those in charge at a radio station based on the 'rebel' metality censor us completely without retribution.

For those of you who appreciate our brand of comedy and are fans, thank you for your support. I raise my glass of Bartles and James to you, good sirs.

For those of you who think that the only kind of comedy is that which you approve of, the only kind of entertainment you can stand on the airwaves is that which you like and nothing with a difference of opinion, those of you who think that you are experts in comedy having never had any connection to the comedic community other than that one time you saw 'Animal House,' please leave.

You folks do music we don't like. You go to shows for bands we think are absent both lyrically and in skill. For more of how much I hate everything you do, refer to everything we have ever said about Emo. But we understand you like it. If that's what you want to do, feel free, but on one condition: let us do our thing.

For any concerns or questions regarding ACRN's dealings with Horrible People, questionable leadership, terrible music, or anything else (including crack calls), you can call them at (740)593-2276. If the keyboard is more to your liking, AIM your requests for the triumphant return of 'Horrible Radio' or anything you want to talk about to AIM name 'The Lobster'. The DJ that Miller got in a scuffle with is on air from 10 'til midnight on Wednesdays. Make sure you tell them how much you appreciate his over-inflated sense of self-importance as well as his bad taste in music and comedy.

(end credits)

An Open Letter to Nickelodeon

2006-04-17T14:58:00.000-04:00

What happened to you, man? You used to be so cool. We used to hang out all the time. Almost every day, remember? We'd get home from school and watch 'Salute Your Shorts' and 'All That' (even though 'Hey, Dude' has always sucked and 'Are You Afraid of the Dark' scared the bejesus out of me), and then the best shows like 'Pete and Pete,' 'Aaah, Real Monsters,' and 'The Angry Beavers' would come on the weekends. 'Figure it Out' wasn't terrible either. 'Rocko's Modern Life', man! Come on. 'Double Dare!' That's good stuff.

But one show supercedes the rest. One show outperformed all the others. My love for old school Nick was led by one show, one singular program. 'Legends of the Hidden Temple.' Greatest program in television history, bar none. They filmed 120 episodes in 3 seasons. That's quality and quantity. Sure, 'GUTS' had the Aggro-Crag and that was very cool (even when they did the ill-advised 'Global GUTS' and it became the Mega-Crag). But it pales in comparison to the wonder that is Legends, with your host Kirk Fogg. Why would you cancel that program? It had everything. It had 10-year-olds trying to complete ridiculous challenges for Pendants of Life. It had teams like the Blue Barracudas and the Green Monkeys (I could name all 6, but I'll save you the time). It had an informational aspect with the Steps of Knowledge. How else would I have known who the first Emperor of China was or how the French defeated the Germanic Tribes in the early 400s on the banks of the Rhine? It had Olmec, a 15-foot tall stone head with a voice like Barry White and the greatest co-host in television history (Trolley from Mr. Rogers and Andy Richter tie for a distant second). It had cool t-shirts with the team logos and gold spray painted helmets and a live studio audience. That would have been enough to rope me in, but all of that was leading up to the main course, the Piece de Resistance: Olmec's Temple. You can keep your Dome of the Rock or your Vatican; my spiritual center resides in a two story, 13 room structure on a back lot somewhere at Nick Studios. You want the famous Nose Ring of Babe the Blue Ox, Atilla the Hun's gold goblet, or Lindhburg's missing weather maps? You got to beat the Temple, a glorious foam core and styrofoam labyrinth of strange puzzles and absurd obstacles. And watch out for the Temple Guards! There's always one in the Swamp room, don't go in there unless you have one of the two pendants handy, 'cuz he wants 'em. Those crazy Mayan guys like it in the room with all the fallen pillars, too. Start in the cave (no need to go upstairs just yet), move to the Shrine of the Silver Monkey, climb the mine shaft, those are easier ones. The one where you pull books out of the skeletons isn't that tough either. Don't get cheeky and try to put all the tiles in the right order, that takes far too long and you don't have time for that shit. You have two minutes, just bust through the wall in the Viper's Lair already. Quit trying to guess which pot the key is in, the Dark Forest is there if you need to get to the Jester's Court, and all you need to do there is hit the button on the wall. The freakin' treasure is in the Quicksand Bog, dammit! Stop wasting time in the Observatory and get to the fucking Tomb of the Ancient Kings!

I sense I've lost some of you in that last section. It's okay, let's move on.

Really, Nickelodeon. By the way, can I call you Nick? What is this crap you're playing now? No longer does 'Kenan and Kel' grace my television with their presence. Instead we have 'The Amanda Bynes Show,' that no talent over-sexualized 14-year-old (which is Jay Runner's thing so he likes it). Now the Rugrats aren't the 'Rugrats' any longer; they're 'All Grown Up.' 'Invader Zim' has been replaced by 'Jimmy Neutron.' Little quality programming remains.

And the worst offender? I'll give you a hint: he live in a pineapple under the see. Absorbant and porous and yellow is he. I give SpongeBob full points for a clever opening theme song (which I have memorized; don't judge me), but the show is awful. Plot summary: stupid yellow Porifera in square pants with pet snail befriends pink Asteroidea and annoys everyone else with incompetence traditionally reserved for only those on MTV dating shows. If I wanted to watch a bumbling idiot wreak havoc with his equally bumbling idiotic friends I'd watch the president on C-SPAN.

I no longer have the in depth plots and twists or the quality writing I expect from you, Nickelodeon. Not only that, but now I don't have a source to learn how the Vikings defeated the English. Was it their ships? Weaponry? Good looks? I don't know now that Olmec's gone; I have SpongeBob, and he doesn't teach me shit.

Nickelodeon, you need to pick up the slack. When 'Fairly Odd Parents' is the best show on your network you need to work on something.

Or else I'm sending the Temple Guards to your house, and I didn't see you earn any pendants in the Temple Games.

Sincerely, Hurricane Reuben

Reuben tells you why your Favorite Comedian sucks: Dane Cook

2006-04-12T03:21:00.000-04:00

It's been an easy ride so far. Larry the Cable Guy didn't put up much of a fight when I ripped him to shreds similar to the tattered tablecloth he calls a shirt. 'Hostel' proved to be just as easy to drill holes in (if you'll pardon the play on words). I imagine My Chemical Romance probably just wept in a corner of a dark room somewhere. Not to mention Mencia, who was so ripe for the picking that we had to do him twice. But I think it's time for a challenge. A real challenge. Someone whose moronic fans would come to the rescue with intense fervor to save their beloved idol. Someone who is at the top of their game. Someone insanely popular yet deserving of a stern talking to and swift ass kicking from we three of the H.P. Someone like Dane Cook. With that said, this is why he sucks more than Earth's gravitational pull. Let's start off with an easy one...

Did you see 'Waiting'?

It was terrible. Not all Dane's fault, but he didn't help himself any by being a worse actor than Chuck Norris in 'Missing in Action,' or as we call it 'Missing in Acting.' Saying you're a worse actor than Chuck Norris is really saying something, and that is a Chuck Norris fact. But back to Dane. He had, what, four lines? Terrible. And when you're a costar of Andy Milonakis, who is the very embodiment of the absence of talent, you'd better have more lines than him. Add professional stereotype actor-turned-'I Love the 80s' interviewee Luis Guzman, fellow terrible actor and bad script enthusiast Ryan Reynolds, and a screenplay that Eli Roth wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole and you've got a recipe for an awful movie like likes of which we haven't seen since 'Torque.' Oh, Dane was in that too? Hmm... How about 'Stuck on You'? 'Mystery Men'? 'Mr. 3000'? Oh man is he a bad actor.

Dane's Platinum Grillz and Ugly Schtik

But you don't love Dane because of his over-acting in his movies and terrible choices for roles. You love his Dane Cook's over-acting on his stand-up specials and his terrible overuse of the same goddamn material he uses all the fucking time and never changes. Dane's latest album 'Retaliation' has gone platinum. Do you realize what that means? People? People? It means more than a million people have actually gone out of their houses and bought a CD with their hard earned money containing one joke. One singular joke, repeated over and over again with slightly different bad impressions, safe material, tired pop culture references, and barely understandable outbursts of random thought and drunken stumbling. Honestly, read through a transcript of one of his shows. It reads like a Jack Torrence novel; boring and repetitive. I'll admit, it's a damn funny joke much of the time, but come on. People paid 14.99 for that. You people sicken me. By 'safe' I don't mean childproof and toothless, because obviously Dane does jokes on sex and alcohol. In fact, that's all he does, is bits on sex and alcohol. Those bits are 'safe' because he knows that no matter what he puts in those bits he will always get a laugh because of the audience who are planning on having drunken sex later. And speaking of the audience...

The Dane Cook Fan Club

...is made up entirely of 18-22 year old college students who haven't been exposed to actual good stand-up comedy. That means you, guy reading this in your dorm room. I know Dane constantly masturbates your ego by telling you that 'his fans are the greatest' as if people who like his brand of Cromagnon-esque poop jokes and disconnected ADHD driven thoughts are somehow superior to those of us who prefer actual quality and creativity from our comics. And not hilariously good disconnected ADHD driven thoughts like Daniel Tosh, either. Bad, with ridiculous premises that insult the audience's ability to think for themselves. Instead of really good stand up, these drunk sorority pledges and neo-hippie potheads prefer the dulcet tones of Dane's snake impression. Or is it his alien impression? I lose track. It all runs together after a while. 'Who cares, so long as he takes his shirt off on stage,' screams the sexually frustrated overweight girl in the third row with a pink cowboy hat. Who cares? I do, people. I care because I'm looking out for you. You need to get creative sometime very, very soon or else you'll continue following in the path of of other popular high energy shock comedians like Sam Kinneson and Andrew Dice Clay. You want good stand up, all you Cook-ies? How about a guy who was really popular not even one year ago. Remember Mitch Hedberg? Remember him? He was a great stand up comedian and college students liked him. He had original material and didn't have to resort to stammering and stumbling on stage to get a laugh or need to rip his shirt off as a crutch to get a reaction from his audience. He got creative and funny the old fashioned way: heroin.

I don't want to dislike Dane Cook, folks. I don't, but he makes it so hard to like him. I will like Dane so much better when he does a few things:

1. Try being in movies with better material occasionally. By the looks of his newest movie, it doesn't look like that's going to happen.

2. Stop catering to the lowest common denominator by telling drunken stories and shouting obcenities. Try writing material next time.

3. Write a joke with a punch line other than an just impression of someone throwing up or dying. Again, try writing material next time.

Let the backlash begin.

Miss the show?

2006-04-09T02:57:00.000-04:00

For anyone who missed our block of stand-up comedy last Friday and even those who were there and want to hear it (again), IM me on AIM at cardsandguitars. The file is a 28 minute Winamp file and contains the entire acts of the three of us. Also, mad props to those in attendance.

An open letter to Carlos Mencia

2006-04-06T02:15:00.000-04:00

Dear Carlos Mencia,
How do you do it? How? You are somehow able to leave me completely speechless every time I catch you on television. It’s amazing, really. Now, maybe it’s the way you confuse the words “controversial” and “edgy” for racist. Or could it be the way you can’t stop laughing at your own bad jokes as you tell them? How about the way you fall back on sophomoric and stereotypical voices and impersonations? Wait. Is it how you stoop to the lowest common denominator by insulting the mentally retarded, those who have disabilities and even, yes, midgets? And finally, could it be because you can’t write, develop and even execute the simplest jokes with proper timing to the point you have to rely on a three-syllabic catch phrase to draw pity laughs that Larry the Cable Guy’s fans would detest?

I’m not quite sure, but I think the answer lies somewhere in that mess of reasons I just rattled off. You see Carlos, as a standup comedian myself, the type of speechlessness I referred to above wasn’t the “Oh my God, Carlos is sooo edgy I’m in shock right now” kind, but more the “How the hell did Comedy Central allow this filth to pollute the television airwaves?” Now, I know, I know, I know you’re obviously arrogant enough to think that you have even the smallest bit of comedic skill buried somewhere in that thick skull of yours, but let’s face the facts.

The only reason you have a TV show in the first place was because Dave Chappelle went on vacation (crazy), Chris Rock already had a show in the works, and George Lopez already has a successful sitcom. This left you remaining and unfortunately Comedy Central had to pick up an ethnic comedian somewhere and they figured, “Hey, he can’t be that bad.” How wrong could they be?

Now, before you start getting wet in the pants, I have to reassure you that this isn’t the type of hate mail that you act like you want to receive. The hate mail you seem to beg for are the letters from viewers that were actually offended by what you insist on calling “edgy” comedy. This is nothing of the sort. Actually, this is directed at you as a two-bit comedian who has somehow brought the art of standup and sketch comedy to all-time lows. Sure, you act so smug because you can find a way to get people to react and send you mail about how you have “gone too far.” I figure you might need this explained to you in the simplest way. When you’ve “gone too far” you are actually just being blatantly racist. Soak that in for a second. Don’t get it? Okay, allow myself to expound on this profound statement.

When you use the words: beaner, spic, wetback, nigger, nigga, sand-nigger, homey, fence-jumper, gook, towel-head, camel jockey, wok, faggot, queer, slope heads and all the other words you think you are allowed to say that I might not have heard you say because you act like a Mexican, it isn’t funny. Like I said before, you haven’t offended me because I have heard worse (mostly from people not on cable television) so this isn’t one of those offended letters. And I think I represent the community of comedians when I say it’s racism, as I described before.

You think because you perform your act as if you were a Mexican that you can get away with the derogatory remarks directed at other Mexicans like what Richard Pryor did with the “n” words and black people. The problem is you go on to throw around every other racial slur at all other races just to be “edgy.” Maybe you didn’t get the memo, but that isn’t funny in any way what-so-ever. Also, the fact you aren’t even Mexican takes away all permission you might have had in the first place. There is no dulling of these words like Pryor and Chris Rock and even Chappelle did with their culture. Did you somewhere along the way forget you weren’t Mexican? Stop acting like it or just admit it before every show and reiterate it every time you toss around the dirty words in your act, so that your audience can begin to realize how terrible you really, really are. You’re Honduran. Just because you can speak Spanish doesn’t make you Mexican.

Okay, now that I have done taken the race card out of your deck of 52 and ripped it to shreds, let’s move on. Let’s bring the focus back to the main point of this letter. Why you are an awful comedian. I’ve already covered over 75 percent of your material, but you still find time to pick on the easiest topics, the mentally retarded. Wow, way to raise the bar. You sir are a genius. How do you come up with the same old tired bits on the mentally retarded, handicapped and disabled? Sure, you go one step further by actually making the most demoralizing impersonations of them along with contorting your body to try and mimic the crippled as well. I applaud you. You have been able to become famous insulting your entire audience. Bravo.

Time for a lesson. Tell me what all these people have in common. Bill Hicks, Robin Williams, George Carlin, Chris Rock, David Cross, and George Lopez. Figure it out? The answer is they were all able to become some of the most famous comedians all without one of their staple topics being mental retardation. Believe it or not, it is possible to be funny without being insulting. Now I know that I can’t possibly hold you, Carlos Mencia, to that high level of comparison, but it’s just an example. Now get off your high horse and come to the front of the class where we are teaching comedy. You might want to give those comics a listen and see what brought them fame. Go ahead, it’s not cheating. Sure, all these comedians mentioned can be controversial and edgy, but they do it the right way – something you cannot figure out. So please, stop mugging for applause or gasps every time you say something over the top.

Your audience doesn’t need warned what you are going to say is edgy, they don’t need you to interrupt your own joke and remind them that the joke might get edgy and finally you don’t need to congratulate them on making it through such an edgy joke. Trust me, I am not the first to make this observation (Patton Oswalt noticed it too), so stop it. A good comedian would insert more jokes in those spots where you talk about your “edginess.” But I guess the words good” and “Carlos Mencia” should never be in the same sentence anyways.

Don’t think I’m done yet. You tend to act and think that you are just saying what everyone else is thinking. Of course, you might be in the ballpark if you were performing at a Ku Klux Klan meeting, but unfortunately that isn’t your typical venue. No educated person is sitting there listening to you and thinking “You know what, I do hate the mentally retarded, they all should be kicked across the room in their wheel chairs” and “Wow, I think the immigrants and illegal aliens are stealing my jobs too.” In fact, the reason why your audience is left silent is because they are appalled at what you just said. The thing is, your “edgy” jokes aren’t cleverly written, witty or have a moral to them, they are fueled with ignorance and hatred. Yes, there is a fine line between edgy and too far and you find a way to completely obliterate that line time after time.

And how could I forget about your trademark hitting yourself with the microphone, contorting your face and shouting “De-De-De.” Nothing says originality like mocking a person with Down Syndrome. Stunning. I think the best part about your crutch is that you have found a way to make yourself even more of a hack than Larry the Cable guy and his pathetic punch line “Git-R-Done.” Very impressive I must say. However, the world works in mysterious ways. And sometimes, a person with a terrible comedy show like yourself, can actually have his show brought back for a second season if said show can draw in viewers. And unfortunately, there are enough people with bad taste and large enough amounts of Mexicans watching just so they can support someone they think is just like them to keep a show on the air.

What puzzles me is how a show as perplexingly bad as yours can remain on the air, but programming like “Arrested Development” cannot. Your show, “Mind of Mencia” is just a condensed version of your standup where you can transform your racist jokes and pathetic stabs at the mentally retarded into sketches. Just what America needed. So not only have you gave the face of comedy a black eye, you’ve also found a way to push back the progress of the race you misrepresent a step back as well.

Warm regards,
Miller Time

Get Your Comedy On: Writing

2006-04-05T12:08:00.000-04:00

Your Horrible People are back in school starting spring quater at OU. That's less a fact and more an excuse for why nothing ever gets written here. The good news is we'll try getting more updates in between some exciting projects we are attempting. And we'll get to post about the failures of those attempted projects. It's a win-win situation really.

Something that has been consistent for us currently is getting on stage and working on our stand up. All three of us we'll be going in another half hour block this friday starting at 10:30. Now, for all you out of state readers, you have enough time to set travel plans and head to the Ohio University Baker center where you can watch a free open mic show presented by your favorite blog writers.

However, this post isn't about our show, and by saying that I'm trying to make up for the shameless plug. This is about stand up comedy. It's catching on again and up-and-comers everywhere are getting their brick walls ready. I predict a stand up boom much like in the 80's except with tolerable fashion and far less coke. Because meth is where it's at now.

So for those unsure on how to start their own routine to present for drunks and the uninterested I am here to dispense some advice in order to help you avoid public humiliation. Stand up is interesting since it is one of the only fields where you will attempt to entertain a harsh and merciless wall of humanity that sits in judgement of your every action. If deemed unfunny the mass will tear you apart through piercing stares and frigid silence. But if you enjoy it you will keep going back. Because stand up comedy loves you, it's just got a funny way of showing it. You know it didn't mean to hit you, it only gets that way when it drinks. So hide that black eye with sunglasses and cover that fat lip with another coat of lipstick because you and stand up comedy are going to Sizzler for a makeup date. And you better let it get to second base.

This is a large topic that I will break down into segments and present over time. Today we will focus on writing material. A comedian is only as funny as the material he is working with, which is why even top paid comedians suck since their acts revolve around the word "beaner" or a half assed catch phrase like "Git-R-Done" which is used to bail out of a shit punchline. You need to stay focused and bring something original to the table. Everyone now knows what the deal with airplane food is. Tired observations on the same topics are never enjoyable. When thinking about something that can be funny make sure it isn't an idea some jock asshole could have said. It's not worth to present on stage if Joe Nobody could make the same comment off the top of his head.

To illustrate the point we will make some jokes and break them down together. I want to make sure everyone keeps up so I will use the easily understood structure of lightbulb jokes. Here we'll analyze what makes them good and bad. Also we'll use these since it's better than putting material of mine up that can be harshly judged.

How many lawyers does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
Three. One to climb the ladder, one to shake the ladder and one to sue the ladder company.

Pros: A classic joke with the target of lawyers. Makes sweeping generalization about lawyers having immoral nature.
Cons: This can be found on a popsicle stick.

How many emo kids does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
None, they'd rather sit in the dark and cry.

Pros: Emo sucks and this helps reinforce that fact. Insults their favorite activity, showing why they're pussies.
Cons: The only target that could be easier than Emo kids is retards.

How many retards does it take to screw in a ligthbuld?
One.

Pros: Simplicity of answer reveals listener to the fact that they regard retards as subhuman and incapable of a task as easy as screwing in a ligthbulb.
Cons: No one is prepared to face such dark truths about themselves.

How many Christians does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
None, Jesus said "I am the light of the world" therefore by using a seperate source of illumination they are not maintaining faith and disgracing the son of God.

Pros: Christians are goofy.
Cons: Way to literal.

How many Vietnam Veterans does it take to screw in a ligth bulb?
You wouldn't know man, you weren't there!

Pros: Plays with structure of lightbulb joke.
Cons: Stereotypes veterans as being emotinally disturbed which could get you killed if the listener has a flashback and thinks you're charlie.

How many porn stars does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
None, they screw in front of a camera.

Pros: Gets me thinking about porn stars.
Cons: Pun.

How many Schrodinger's cats does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
One and none, simultaneously!

Pros: A ridiculous reference.
Cons: requires a Google search to understand.

How many Ohio University students does it take to chang a lightbulb?
Three, one to chang it and two others to try and turn the broken bulb into a bong.

Pros: College kids like pot humor. OU is filled with hippies.
Cons: It's depressing because it's true.

There are many other examples of this classic joke to get you started. Let me also mention that you should never make a lightbulb joke on stage or in public, ever. This was merely an exercise to see what's funny and not funny with certain jokes. When developing your own material it's best to read it out loud, and for the love of god decide if it's funny or not in the privacy of your own home. Don't just have a wacky set up or a half assed punchline. A little preperation can go a long way in making a successful act.

Oh and how many kids with ADD does it take to finish a lightbulb joke?

Juice!

2006-04-04T17:35:00.000-04:00

Come on, Barry. Who are you fooling? Just come out and say it. We all know you do it. It's okay, we want you to. We won't admit it, but the truth is that you and your fellow 'users' have saved baseball. Remember the early nineties, when baseball nearly died from a strike shortened season? You remember? Of course you do, you were there. All the fans left. What brought 'em back? The long ball, that's what. You and your buddies Mark and Sammy and Jose and all the rest, you brought America's past time back from the brink. Not Jose so much, but you other three.

We just want you to come out and say how you did it. You think we didn't notice your conspicuously gigantic head? Or the Incredible Hulk-like proportions you took on in a few months? Or the raisenettes you call testicles? We all know how, just come out and tell us. Get on '60 Minutes' and do it. Mike Wallace will ask you if you have something to say to America, and you'll come on screen with a bag of syringes. Maybe Mickey Rooney can help you shoot up on national TV. Not do it himself, but hold the rubber hose you use to fill the vein.

Just say it, Barry. Just say you did it.

Say you used Gatorade when you were on Powerade's payroll.

This Blog is a Pipe Bomb

2006-03-28T17:22:00.000-05:00

I'm finally back from spring break vacation and time to get back into the swing of things. First thing's first, something happened in Athens just a few days before the end of the winter quarter that simply must be let known, and if I know MSNBC, Fox News, CNN, CNBC, and all the rest of the 24/7 news channels they'll check with Horrible People first.

Ohio University was on high alert on the morning of March 2nd. A bike with the label 'This Bike is a Pipe Bomb' was found outside a local restaurant called the Oasis. The school closed off four buildings, police blocked streets around the Oasis restaurant, the fire department brought in off-duty firefighters, and the Columbus fire department's bomb squad was called in. The bomb experts attacked the bike with a high-pressure spray of water, then pried it open with a hydraulic tool and found no bomb inside.

Ready for the punch line? 'This Bike is a Pipe Bomb' is a band based in Pensacola, Florida.

There are several levels to the stupidity of this. First, the guy who put the sticker on should have had enough common sense that the combination of a 'This Bike is a Pipe Bomb' sticker attatched to a bike might raise some question.But the reaction of the police and authorities, who arrested and charged the student to which the bicycle belonged, where ridiculous. C'mon, a factory made sticker that says 'This Bike is a Pipe Bomb'? Terrorists are not getting into brand recognition. "This attack was brought to you by Hamas." Idiots.

Now everybody stand back, this post is going to self destruct in about ten secoBAM!

Ohio vs. Ohio

2006-03-23T18:55:00.000-05:00

I find myself in the following conversation more often than I'd like. It is with friends of my parents who feel they need to feign interest in my life...
Them: What college are you in now?
Me: Ohio University
Them: Oh really! My son wants to go there. Everything he owns is all scarlet and grey! Go Bucks!
Me: That's actually Ohio State.
Them: And where do you go?
Me: Ohio University, we're the Bobcats, hunter green and white, in the hills of Athens. Ohio State is in Columbus.
Them: Oh well isn't that nice. And aren't you a dance major or something?
Me: Just fuck off.

In the borders of Ohio only Ohio State comes to mind when speaking of college. Come to think of it, outside Ohio only Ohio State is really known. It's commonly thought that Michigan is Ohio States rival, but I beg to differ. Michigan is basically part of Canada and nobody gives a fuck about some denim wearing, french fry and gravy eating canucks. I submit that Ohio University is not only a rival of Ohio State's, but I will show why it is better in every aspects. Or in most aspects. The Birth Place of Aviation can only have one premier school with its name. So let this be a battle to the death, two schools enter (and judged in several categories of interest by me), one school leaves! Welcome to Thunderdome!

HISTORY
Ohio State: In 1870 in accordance with the Morrill Act of 1862 the Ohio Agricultural and Mechanical College was formed. Originally situated in a farming community outside of Columbus the school was intended to lead students into several agricultural disciplines. In 1878 the school voted in favor of broadening the educational spectrum and later changed the name to the now familiar "The Ohio State University".

So, the school was started by a bunch of rednecks that felt they needed a college to teach their dumbass offspring how to operate a thresher without getting their dicks chopped off. Big mundane adventure there. When they finally decided that there's more to life than corn and lima beans they opened up the curriculum and basically added a couple words to the already successful Ohio University, who's history is as follows...

Ohio University: During the creation of the greatest nation on earth (maybe you've heard of it? it's a little thing called the United States of America!) the ordinance of 1787 called for the formation of educational institutions for the Northwest Territory, in order for its settlement and statehood. Halfway between Marietta and Chillicothe (the original capitol of Ohio) the school was placed to act as a gateway of higher learning to the west. Originally named American Western University it's true founding came on February 18, 1804 a year after Ohio was admitted to the union.

Without Ohio University there wouldn't have been an Ohio. Frontiersmen and Cowboys ripped through the great unknown, battling blood thirsty savages and grizzlies in order to create an institution that would guarantee statehood. It's name, coming roughly 75 years before the rip off artists Ohio State, shined as a beacon in the still uncharted lands that reflect the wild and rugged will and true spirit of every American.

Winner: Ohio University. It's history tears through Ohio State's like a dick hungry thresher.

ATHLETICS
Ohio State: A formidable opponent in most all varsity sports. Part of the Big Ten conference it is an annual powerhouse in Football and normally showcases a strong Basketball program. A program that will only become stronger after they acquire highschool phenom, and who I suspect of horse steroid useage, Greg Oden. You can see this monster learn his ABC's here.

OSU's athletic department has many awards and honors to its name. They boast five heismen winners, including the only two time winner Archie Griffin, as well as 7 recognized national championships in football. They also have such notable sports heroes as Jessie Owens, Jack Nicklaus and Woody Hayes.

However, with such a storied history its important to note that the Ohio State Athletics department is about as scrupulous as the Mafia. Most recently having to remove banners showing accomplishments for men's basketball teams that violated NCAA regulations. Along with numerous counts of bribery and improper funding allegations for their football team. Pretty much a testiment to having that "Hard Work" attitude Woody Hayes preached as Buckeye Head Coach, as well as outright cheating when hard work doesn't quite do it.

Ohio University: Ok, ok, no great history here. In 60 years of football in the MAC we're 178-226-12 with only 5 titles. But who beat the Pitt Panthers on national tv? The OU Bobcats. The Basketball team is at least in the positive with a career .564 winning percentage in 60 years of MAC play. As well as 11 NCAA appearences and 5 MAC tournament championships. But punter Dave Zastudil, an OU alum is now a Cleveland Brown, filling a gaping hole on special teams since Chris Gardocki left. What are we taling about now? Oh yeah, until we start cheating we won't be as good as Ohio State for awhile.

Winner: Ohio State. Could pummel OU in just about anything competitive but would most likely need boosters to help in some way.

ALUMNI
I was going to focus on academics but it's hard to gauge, with OU having arguably the best Journalism school in the country and OSU with its massive research center its kind of a wash. Especially since the students care about getting all sorts of fucked up and trying to get laid over any educational endeavor. Instead we take a look at which school makes the better product.

Ohio State:
Football Players: Cris Carter, Eddie George, Terry Glenn blah blah blah. We get it, the school is a mill for NFL talent. I won't bother listing all who made it to the holy land and got paid millions for performing such great feats as catching a ball and running with a ball. I will mention that most football players beat their wives and do drugs. And that's a fact I didn't even bother researching.

Bobby Knight: That asshole basketball coach that throws chairs and was given his own bullshit reality show on ESPN. He's stuck in Texas now which is a fate worse than death. You'll probably hear his name in some news report soon with the phrase "aggrivated assault".

R.L. Stine: Author of the children's series Goosebumps. His books became a fad somewhere between pogs and visors. He's been called the Stephen King for Young Adults although I think a better analogy would be the cancer for American literature. And he looks like a droopy nosferatu.

Jeffrey Dahmer: It should be noted that although he didn't graduate Dahmer did go on to become an infamous serial killer. Murdering 17 men, who were normally homosexual and Black or Asian, he would save the bodies, citing necrophillia as a motviation for killing. Also eating the bodies and storing heads in his refrigerator. An altar of candles and human skulls was found in his closet as well as several decaying bodies in acid vats. So we are sure at least one product of OSU fucks and eats dead people that he seduced and murdered. Go Bucks.

Other alumni include Maurice Clarett who is on trial for robbery, Paul F. Iams who makes dog food, and some people who won nobel prizes, like I care.

Ohio University:
Richard Dean Anderson: MacGyver Mother Fucker! The actor who portrayed the resourceful ex-special forces secret agent and later the lead role on Stargate SG-1 was embarking on his first missions at OU. I can't even imagine the inventive ways he'd break in to sorority houses and steal panties before making his escape by only using a nati light can, gum wrapper and the top half of a pineapple.

Peter King: Senior writer for Sports Illustrated and special analyst on HBO's Inside the NFL. He recently slimmed down from his former, more portly physique, to keep the long tradition of Ohio Universtiy producing sex symbols.

Paul Newman: Holy crap talk about sexy. The Cool Hand Luke and Color of Money star sweats sexuality, as well as being a total badass. He also only attended one year but instead of becoming a gay serial killer/cannibal he instead became one of the greatest actors of all time. And as legend has it he was asked to leave the school after rolling a keg down Jeff Hill into the presidents car. Love it, what a true role model.

Other notables include Arsenio Hall, Nancy Cartwright (voice of Bart Simpson), George Voinovich and the Cleveland Browns new special teams stand-out punter Dave Zastudil. And let's all be serious, he really does fill a lot of needs for the Browns while taking away from the divisonal opponent Ravens, where he started his career. But I digress.

Winner: Ohio University. Actors and Sports stars who don't rob and murder people.

STUDENTS/STUDENT LIFE
Ohio State: Boasting the consdierably larger campus you are bound to find hundreds of people who have the same interests as you. As long as those interests are beer and Buckeye Football. If you like reading or have a different more focused passion than I hope you enjoy getting your ass kicked and being called a fag. Parties are large and often, but with a bigger student body there's always room for more assholes.

Ohio University: Smaller yet very active student body, you are just as likely to find as many people with interests similar to yourself. As long as those interests are beer. Yes, with a decline in athletics it leaves more time to focus on partying and drinking. Having one of the wildest street parties in the US on Halloween and being ranked as the 2nd largest party school in the nation (which is soon to be number one, thanks to faculty involvement) it's the place of choice to get crunk at.

Tie: College life is pretty much the same everywhere unless you are ivy league or at a community college.

Finally the most important division...

MASCOTS

Ohio State: Brutus the Buckeye? You've got to be fucking kidding me. Some monstrous human/nut hybrid. The most threatening thing is that it's poisinous or could possible clog a wind pipe. Hence the reason for creating the peanut butter and chocolate treat with the same name and appearance. Which is good because it matches the candy asses who attend OSU.

Ohio University: The majestic yet fearsome Bobcat. Indeginous to the region it has been hunted to low numbers making it endangered. However our Bobcat is equal parts stoned and depressed. A perfect mix for the whole college community.

Winner: Ohio U. The Buck lovin idiots to the north can kiss my ass.

The ultimate winner is of course Ohio University. Although this rivalry is far from being settled and even farther from being started, since nobody cares. At least both schools know they are infinitely better than Marietta College, more commonly known as Ohio's asshole. It's the town motto or something.

Don't be Hatin'

2006-03-13T17:27:00.000-05:00

I've had three people tell me already that there are jokes in my previous post that they know for a fact that I didn't make up. To them I say the following: one, I never claimed that I made all of them up I just said that I liked them, and two, leave comments in the fucking comments box at the bottom of the post. Jesus Christ get off my case. If your really want a step by step list of the origin of each joke then feel free to get in touch with me. That is all. Assholes.

A Compelation of Relatively Funny One Liners, Bad Jokes, and Awkward Things to Say, Part II

2006-03-10T12:39:00.000-05:00

These ones are slightly more disjointed and random than the last post of similar ilk I did a while back. Screw it; I get the jokes, if you people can't keep up with the tour then you should have bought the visitor's guide. Read 'em. Skip the ones you don't get right away and come back to them at the end of the quiz.

If I could eat lunch with any three people in history, alive or dead, I think I would choose alive.

According to a new study, people are becoming more accepting of fat people unless they’re on top.

How does that phone cord get so tangled? All I do is talk, and hang up. I don't pick it up and do a cartwheel and a triple lutz.

I recently saw a guy without a chin, and I couldn't help but think, 'how does that guy play violin?'

I tried walking through a drive-thru once, and the guy at the window told me that I needed to be in a vehicle to order from the drive-thru. So I bought a Wonder Woman outfit. (I'll let that one sink in before we move on)

I was pissing the other day and two streams came out. Like washer fluid or something. I guess a piece of lint from my boxers got stuck in there. I always wonder if things like that happen to women. I guess you’d have to be missing a gym sock or something.

I hate going to weddings. Uncles and aunts like to slap me on the shoulder and ask, 'When is it your turn?' They stopped doing that after I started doing the same with them at funerals.

I believe you should live each day as if it is your last, which is why I don't have any clean laundry because, come on, who wants to wash clothes on the last day of their life?

How come when you mix water and flour together you get glue and then you add eggs and sugar and you get cake? Where does the glue go?

A mouse trap, balanced carefully on top of your alarm clock, will prevent you from rolling over and going back to sleep.

Ever been stuck behind an accident and when you finally see the wreckage you're happy? 'Things should pick up now, just as soon as we pass this carnage.'

According to a new survey, 76 percent of women said what they look for most in a man is a sense of humor and a good personality. This was a survey published in 'Full of Crap' Magazine.

Don't spend two dollars to dry clean a shirt. Donate it to the Salvation Army instead. They'll clean it and put it on a hanger and the next morning you can buy it back for seventy five cents.

I like that the Taliban train for thier jobs but I feel like, when I see the videos, they're not training for the right jobs. I hope they know we don't have a lot of monkey bars here.

Don't buy burial insurance. Trust me, they will bury you anyway. Know why? Because society hates a rotting corpse.

A woman I went out with a while ago told me she had a yeast infection. I had no idea what that meant, but I had a decent guess because my mom bakes. I’m always in the market for quality baked goods.

Remember, war never solved anything. Except slavery.

We have women in the military, but they don't put them on the front lines. They don't know if they can fight, but I think they can. All the general has to do is walk over to the women and say, 'You see the enemy over there? They say you look fat in those uniforms.'

That's the end. See you all in hell.

Horrible Obituaries

2006-03-08T10:37:00.000-05:00

Does the word 'horrible' really need to be in the title of every post? Anyway...

Here's a joke for you: what's Superman's only weakness?
Answer: ponies!

Which brings me to our first rotting corpse...

Dana Reeve, the wife of popular cripple and terrible equestrian (hence the photo and the joke) Christopher Reeve, died recently at the age of 44 of lung cancer. The news results I'm getting on Google say she was an actress, but I don't remember her at all in any movies. I remember seeing her on TV singing someplace with her push-cart husband by her side, but no acting. I suppose she will be missed. By other people. Not me. She seemed nice enough, but she's just so easy of a target that I'm happy she's in the news one more time so I can rip her a new one (or reopen her old ones). Imagining having sex with that guy. Jesus Christ, it'd be like trying to put up a four person army tent by yourself, having to move everything around and hold everything up and all. One good thing about her passing is that someone famous finally died of cancer again. Fucking Lance Armstrong made it seem like you put on the plastic napkin ring and you not only survive cancer but you get to have sex with someone like Sheryl Crow every night. I've been smoking 10 cartons a day since they got together and Keira Knightly has not shown up at my dorm room yet. I guess I'm not famous enough yet (so vote for us at Top-Blogs). Thank God someone famous died of cancer again. Take the fucking rubber bands off of your arms, you once-trendy assholes. Keira, you know where to find me (I'm in your bushes).

And in coffin #2...

Kirby Puckett, the famed Minnesota Twins outfielder and wife beating enthusiast died of a stroke at age 45 earlier this month. The round mound of 5'8" 300 pound...ers (damn, I was so close to that rhyming) had a Hall of Fame career with the Twins and won 2 World Series, though you may not have known that because it was in the middle of fucking Minnesota (or as I call it, Canada Junior). He was forced into early retirement due to complications from glaucoma that caused him to lose sight in his right eye. That was a problem, considering the fact that depth perception is important for baseball players. Soon after, he began smoking marijuana (I would assume, with the glaucoma and the essentially being in Canada). Charges brought against him for groping a woman outside a bar in Eden Prarie, Minnesota, and trouble in his marriage (if by trouble you mean batting .350 career at your wife's head with your open hand) only made Kirby continue his usage of wacky weed (again, I would assume). Mounting social pressure in the Minnesota community, among other things, made Kirby feel uncomfortable enough to feel the need to move from his home to Arizona. I don't blame him. I've smoked weed or groped a woman under less traumatic circumstances. It's good to grope a woman every now and then, you know, to loosen up. Gets those creative juices flowing. Unless the woman is lactating, then it's other less pleasant juices (for me; babies like 'em though). On another note, who names their kid Kirby? Maybe it's because of the similarity of body type to the fluffy pink fella. Either way, fuck those parents of his for naming that kid Kirby. Are they dead yet? If not, somebody give me their address. I'll punch their throats in.

Last, and certainly deceased...

Don Knotts, the professional ridiculous looking man, most famous for his portrayals of goofy lawsuit-waiting-to-happen Barney Fife on 'The Andy Griffith Show' and creepy leisure suit wearing Ralph Furley on 'Three's Company,' died a few days ago at the age of 81. For those of you who don't know, he made millions upon millions of dollars off of playing the same bumbling idiotic character. Much like Denzel Washington; why has no one noticed that he plays the same character in every movie? Yea, you're very angry trying to solve why someone raped your wife/kidnapped your daughter/killed your best friend, we get it. Anyway, back to Don. He was good at that character, but it was the same goddamn character from 'Andy Griffith' to 'Chicken Little.' Many people are sad about his passing and I am as well, and the only reason I'm happy is because he lived a full life and I could write this post about it. But really, I mean, come on. He did look like this 24-7:

That's right, two old school video game references in one post. That's quality you don't get from Used Hack or Melody Platz. I couldn't find a good character for Dana Reeve. I could've used Princess Peach, but she wasn't married to 'Super Wheelchair Mario.' Punch the keys, for God sakes!

Nintendo executives would be idiots not to make that for GameCube.

My Horrible Retirement Plan

2006-03-06T12:40:00.000-05:00

There comes a time in every person's life when they need to give a serious look at their future. Carefully analyze the choices that lie ahead and follow through on goals that are set, in order to achieve the life one truly desires. I've begun to do just that and have slowly come to realize I am totally fucked. I have no work ethic, a pessimistic attitude and an unusually high tolerance for failure. Because trying hard and falling short is a lot more work than not bothering. Couple those characteristics with a dipping economy, that will likely reach its lowest point upon my graduation and resource depletion that will cripple the world market and I'm facing a future that looks more like Mad Max than Richie Rich.

With these startling conclusions in mind I see that I need an escape plan out of my doomed life and quick. I will not allow myself stuck working alongside past high school state champion quarterbacks, in blue smocks at Wal-Mart. I need a plan that gets me in the field I love and the kind of money I can stay comfortable on. So I've reached the best possible solution: Trophy Wife.

It's pretty much the only available option I have that gets me in the field I enjoy; doing nothing, along with the kind of money I expect to live on; a shitload. Now that leaves the question of where to begin. I've got a lot riding on this being my new destiny and all, so I have to get it right the first time. Better look at some role models first. It may give me some inspiration when learning about the courageous gold diggers that blazed a trail before me, so that I might be able to humbly follow in their footsteps. Here are 3 of the best and no, I will not include the corpse marrying whore Anna Nicole Smith because she may not get the money and had to lick that mummy's balls for almost a decade.

Amy Irving divorces Steven Spielberg, resulting in a 100 million dollar windfall. And that's 100 million in 1989 dollars, today tallying about 148 million. That's an awful lot of scratch for only needing to take care of their one son, Max. Hope he can get by on such a meager allowance. What do I take from this? The woman could spot a winner, marrying Spielberg shortly after the release of Jaws which would be the launching of his career and subsequent movie empire. Find the talent fast, and dupe a nice guy, since the split was amiable she still makes it to Oscar parties.

Melissa Mathison divorces Harrison Ford, obtaining 118 million in the settlement. Alright, not too shabby but there is a bonus to the end of this 18 year fling, she receives half of the royalties on any Harrison Ford film made during their time together (1983-2001). You pick up a DVD copy of the Fugitive? Money in the bank for Mathison. Enjoy Indian Jones or Patriot Games? Not nearly as much as this goddess of alimony. However, any fan boy who can barely hide his boner while unwrapping a special edition Star Wars doesn't help since in 1977 Ford was still working part time as a carpenter. What do I learn? Hit it early because you don't want to miss out on extra earnings from legions of geeks.

Anna Murdoch's epic haul from Rupert Murdoch, 1.7 billion in assets and 110 million in cash. That's 1.7 Billion with a 'B'. B as in FUCKING 1.7 BILLION! And all she had to do was bump uglies with the devil incarnate. Good times. Squeeze out three kids and try to smile when 17 days after the divorce of the 37 year marriage, Rupert goes off to marry Wendi Deng, the same woman he was having an affair with. Just sit back and smile Anna because if you add the assets value with the cash it's like you won the Powerball five times over.

Those are some large shoes to fill if I strive to be the best. I'll have a little help though, because I'm not going into this blind. No, I am going to know all the tricks, thanks to Mysterious Luva and her book "Sex a Baller out of His Mind and Money".

Wow, an essence magazine bestseller! That's like the New York Times list without the credibility! I bet the most mysterious thing about Mysterious Luva is her STD diagnosis, a hybrid breed of syphilis and bid flu is mysterious!

Contained in this book are all the tricks you need to learn to seduce, use and discard of your very own baller. It boasts to have such guaranteed tactics on where to find a baller, which ballers have the biggest penis and the top 20 baller sex positions (photos!). Wow such a comprehensive guide, looks like it's a battle for second in the race for Pulitzer. Some sure fire examples to make your man lose his mind is to tell him to "cum in [your] mouth" and feel free to rub the baby batter like lotion on your skin. Thank you Mysterious Luva for teaching me strategies I could never learn, unless I watched any hardcore porno in the 1.99 bin at Spanky's Adult Video.

This plan might not work considering I look less like a video honey and more like Pee Wee Herman. I'm just going to play the Powerball, if it hits I wont have as much as some of these women but I will be able to look into the mirror.

Just kidding, with 1.7 billion I can pay people to smash any mirror in 50 miles of me. I'm putting on my whoring boots.

A Penny For My Thoughts

2006-03-02T12:35:00.000-05:00

Listen, I’ve held this in long enough. It's time for me to vent a little bit.

Fuck you, pennies.

I hate pennies with a white hot passion that will not be quenched. Is there anything more useless and depressing than getting a penny back after buying chicken nuggets from Wendy’s? The answer is no. I don’t care how many of your pets have been hit by cars or how many epigastric parasites you have, the answer is no. Not a thing more useless or depressing. I always have the reaction of, "Why the fuck are you giving me this?" They hand it to me as if I should thank them for giving me my change. Change!? It's a fucking penny! What are you going to do with a penny? Seriously, what do you plan on doing with it?

That's what I thought.

Get rid of the fucking pennies. Congress, the people who run our country, continue to spend millions of dollars to make billions of pennies every year, and as you know we don't have that kind of money to spend. I like the dollar coins. Make more of those. A lot of people don't, but really, I need to use dollar coins more than I need to use fucking pennies.

I thought of something else that fucking sucks about pennies. This situation has happened more than once: I accidentally drop a coin in between the seat and the door in the drive thru, and it's more often than not a penny. Then I have to do that pincher beetle thing with my middle finger and the nail of my index finger for about ten minutes. So then I can't get it so I have to use a nickel, and now I get four more mother fucking pennies! Ugh, that sucks.

Let me take a breather here for a second. Phew.

I didn't want to write two different posts over the course of about 15 minutes, so part two of this post goes like this: apparently, a study was recently completed by who knows (and frankly, who cares) and the conclusion of the study was that American citizens know more about 'The Simpsons' than the The Bill Of Rights. The question was as follows (no cheating and looking any of 'em up, now):

Name the 5 members of the Simpsons nuclear family.
Name all 5 of the rights guaranteed in the 1st Amendment.

How many of each did you get?

Listen to this statistic found in the survey: 1 in 5 people could name all 5 Simpsons right, but one 1 in 1000 could get all 5 rights, uh... right. That's ridiculous.

That might be more depressing than getting pennies as change.

Just so you know, all ten are (Simpsons first, then Rights): Homer, Marge, Maggie, Bart, and Lisa, and then Speech, Religion, the Press, Assembly, and Petition.

People use acrostics to remember things all the time. Let's make one up so we can remember the five rights:

Simpsons
Remember:
Pennies
Are
Pointless

If I were...A Professional Wrestling Referee

2006-03-01T14:06:00.000-05:00

I'd take my job seriously. I mean the referees these days just don't seem to have the same work ethic or accountability of the good ol' days. If I were a referee I'd make sure that every match was run clean and only the true winner's hand would be raised, left to grasp the coveted belt for whatever the hell champion he just became.

I'd make sure to have a strong grasp of the glorious sport that is pro wrestling. I'd understand rules and legal moves. I wouldn't question when punches fly past an opponents face only catching air and yet the force of that whiff still somehow manage to bring a full grown man to the canvas. Nor would I be confused to the fact that punches are always accompanied by loud stomping of the mat. I mean those punches have to be loud enough don't they? Isn't stomping excessive? But I digress.

For I'd also not let outside the ring activity distract me. I have a duty in the ring and goddamit I am going to fufill it. If a loud mouth manager grabs my leg I'll make sure to get free and focus on the action so no foul play can occur. And if a fighter's girlfriend's big ol' titties are hanging out I won't stop and stare while action takes place behind me. My main responsibility is to those fighters and to those same fighters I say this: You can count on me.

Please know that if I were a pro wrestling referee I'd make sure to question the shattered remains of a 6 string acoustic guitar or a broken beer bottle around a fighters skull before I made that 3 count. I mean, I have no idea how such unlikely items could soil the otherwise pure sport. If those items were used in anyway to injure a fighter I'd stop and possibly ask a secondary observer, let's say the hollering red-faced announcer, as to what has transpired.

I'd also pledge that if I am crushed by a wrestler's finishing move on accident or my skull is caved in by a steel folding chair I would not make an immediate three count for the first person I see pinned. I have just taken on massive head trauma and am in no way capable of calling a fair fight. In this case I think I'd assume a fighter with a checkered past, lets say someone who has beaten me from behind with hockey sticks, alluminum ladders, baseball bats, championship belts and other object before may not get my full confidence when I regain consciousness. After watching replays of other referees and most likely myself being violently bludgened I'd try to remain level headed during a fight in order to see it through till the end.

If I were a pro wrestling referee I would be the best.

The Future ISNOWHERE

2006-02-28T02:15:00.000-05:00

The title of this post is a part of a psychological test I took in high school. The readings were supposed to go like this:

If you first saw 'Is Now Here' then you are an optimist.
If you first saw 'Is No Where' then you are a pessimist.

That was supposed to be it for the study. But I saw a few more options...

If you first saw 'Isnow Here' then you are in Isnow, Romania.
If you saw 'Isn Owh Ere' then you are an Islamic Extremist.
If you first saw 'I Snow Here' then you are a snowboarder. Or a penguin.

Just thought you'd like to know.

Wasn't I Watching SportsCenter?

2006-02-27T08:16:00.000-05:00

I could've sworn I was watching SportsCenter a second ago. I don't think I sat on the remote. Was there a glitch in the electrical system?

No, this is still SportsCenter by name, but they're covering things not normally called 'sports' by, let's say, anybody at all. Let's go down the list.

First thing's first, golf has its own channel. It's called 'The Golf Channel.' Get off my TV.

Next, I understand that on ESPN you should cover the Olympics. Even the winter ones. But what is this half assed coverage? I don't know if you've been watching this ridiculous short bus coverage ESPN is passing off as sports journalism, but basically the anchor talks about whatever event is on the prompter and a still photograph of the event pops on the screen. C'mon now, this isn't OJ's closed court room here, this is the fucking Olympic games. We couldn't pack a video camera in the bags, there was only enough room for a disposable? Awful.

Next, since when is Nascar a sport? I know it's extremely popular, I know it's definetly a growing industry, but a sport? Bah! Bah, I say! Sure it's an event, but a sport it is not. Something doesn't qualify as a sport just because it takes five hours to complete and you can gamble on it. If that were the case I would imagine that C-SPAN coverage would be popular (I'm doubling down on H.R. 1445, daddy needs a new suit). Poker is not a sport and is on ESPN, Bass fishing is not a sport and is on ESPN, I rest my case.

The other thing that pisses me off about the whole Nascar thing is the culture that comes along with it. I could make a lot of jokes, but... okay I will. The I.Q. of the average Nascar fan is lower than that of an average avocado. The average Nascar fan can't spell 'avocado.' All they do is turn left. Nascar is the Nemo the clownfish of sporting events (what with the deformed fin and all). If you combined all of the high school GPAs of all the people in the stands of the Coca-Cola 600 it would be lower than their combined BACs. Any sport that has cars moving at extremely high speeds with Budweiser and Crown Royal advertisements on thier sides is hilarious to me. "Hey, there's a Bud ad on that car driving 200 mph. That gives me an idea..."

But let's go back to the bass fishing. The Bassmaster Classic was this week. Yea, I don't care either. Know who won? Yea, I don't care either. Know where it was? Know what the winning total weight was? You get the idea.

This fascination with bass fishing is absurd to me. The fanfare when they do the weigh-ins at the end of the day are really funny too. They tow the fishermen in on thier boats into the amphitheatre they hold this collection of bass fans in and they weigh the fish in and everyone goes nuts. Then they take a bag out of thier boat, and more often than not they pull a fish out of a second container that is far to massive to be contained by a black mesh bag. They then take that fish and grab its lower jaw and hoist it above thier head! "Bow before me, for I am all that is man! I lift this fish in recognition of my masculinity!" Amazingly unbelievable to me, but entertaining nonetheless.

Think you're a big man, huh homes? Okay, let's see how well you do when you and the fish are underwater. Yea, that's right. It's not a home game anymore. An amphitheatre of thousands of bass watching you get hoisted above the head of some fish wearing rubber boots and jeans shorts. That's right, bass jorts! How ya like me now?

One last thing befuddles me about this: How do you be a bass fishing fan? How is it physically possible? There aren't stands, they go out on a lake or something like 50 miles away from the starting off point. There's no group of shirtless frat guys with thier favorite fisherman's nickname spelled across thier chests. Some guy perched in the reeds holding a sign that says, "Everyone knowS that Pete's a bass maN," with the ESPN in acrostic fashion. Doesn't happen.

SportsCenter, I say this to you: you insist on showing the highlights of 'games' and 'events' that do not qualify as sports. You don't show highlights of real sports like soccer, lacrosse, volleyball, or beer pong. Nascar and fishing both lack the most important thing you need to have in order to be a sport: real atheletes. Let's get our definition of what a sport is in order before we start putting clips of professional ballroom dancing and equestrian on ESPN. It's getting out of hand.

Okay, maybe not beer pong. But you have to admit, that would be good TV.

Horrible Hint #1

2006-02-22T04:21:00.000-05:00

Here’s a quick hint for you folks: don’t drink Jager bombs at clubs with a high gay population because you don’t want to have lowered inhibitions with the energy to try something new.

These pictures make my life 100x better

2006-02-21T02:18:00.000-05:00

All right, while Hurricane stole my thunder and made a post about Rufus, that isn't going to stop me from taking the material and doing a much better version of it. However, as you can read, Rufus is the current and reigning champion of the Best in Show category, aka, the dog that is actually better than most humans, at the Westminster Dog Show. He is a (colored) Bull terrier and probably the most important animal in the world right now.

Just look at him. Not only does he have a chest wide enough and body strong enough to bench press an apartment complex, but he has the gate of a thoroughbred. Also, you can not find a picture of this dog not looking as if he hadn't just dropped a deuce in his competitor's water bowl. So not only is this dog the most popular canine on the market right now, he is the strongest and is in the best mood to boot. I bet he is tail-deep in beautiful bitches and living higher than all those other wannabe dogs like the pug and all those mutant freaks we've mentioned before.

Secondly, this is a picture that is riding the YTMND wave as high as possible. The O RLY Owl. While some call my sense of humor "base," I simply can not take a glimpse of this creature and not instantly convulse with laugter. Take a peak.

This thing is obviously having a good time, all the time. While Owl is perplexed with whoever took the picture of this now famous bird, I find myself ever more intrigued by its wonder. It has a sort of aura around it, a majestic, world loving feel to it. This is a bird that can roll with the punches, the "if life gives you lemons, sit back and gawk at a camera man and become a sub-culture phenom" attitude. Whenver I am in an angry mood, all I have to do is look at the wallpaper of my computer and laugh with the O RLY Owl.

So if you ever get saddened by the lack of Miller Time material here on Horrible People, just do as I did. Make the O RLY Owl your desktop background, eat a stick of Laffy Taffy and enjoy life for a moment.

The Greatest Dog Ever

2006-02-21T01:36:00.000-05:00

Miller was going to write a post on Rufus the dog, but then again, he was going to write a post on how we got kicked off the radio, and a post about an underwear party we went to, and another one about his hatred for organized religion, and another one about...

Where was I?

Oh, right.

Rufus, a Bull Terrier, recently won best in show at the Westminister Dog Show. But a dog wins every year, right? What makes this Rufus character so special? It's easy to see. Just look at this freaking dog:

Try looking at that dog and not laugh. You can't! I mean, all of the dogs in the dog shows look funny. He looks absolutely ridiculous. His head looks like a football. He looks like he got beaten with an ugly stick. He looks like someone stuck a bicycle pump in the chest of a Jack Russell and pumped him up like a pair of sneakers. He's a cinder block with legs. He looks like he could beat you up with those biceps. Dogs don't even have biceps. They don't have shoulders. What an absurd animal. Yet he's best in show.

Congrats Rufus. You fugly summamabitch.

How to Fire a Gun at a Man's Head and Not Get Arrested

2006-02-20T01:36:00.000-05:00

It's all fun and games until someone gets hit with fifty pellets of quailshot.

As I'm sure you've already heard, the Vice President of our great nation, Dick Cheaney, went hunting last weekend. 'Farm raised quail' hunting. By farm raised quail hunting I really mean he drove to this farm where they keep quail in what I'm sure ia no more that a 5x5 cage and you shoot at them with birdshot, which is basically like grapeshot for old school middle age catapults (thank you for improving my vocabulary, Magic the Gathering).

But something went right. Terribly right. The VP broke a gun law, added a supporting argument to the position of gun control lobbies, and almost killed a lawyer. That is awesome. What a debacle.

Mr. Cheaney shot a 78 year old lawyer in the face. 'By accident.' But as we all know, the White House hates lawyers that aren't defending them. Or the gun lobby. Or the oil lobby. Or the... you get the idea.

Seriously though, he shot a man. In the face. Is he not even going to get arrested? I mean, he hides from the world for extended periods of time, he could just disappear one day and never return. And he attacked this man with birdshot! As local Athens comedian Eightball pointed out, "He shot him above the waist, and as a black man I know... that's attempted murder." True that, my brother. True that.

He did not have a valid Texas hunting license, so he'll have to pay the 50 dollar fine. I don't know how he's going to get that kind of money together. The 78 year old man had a heart attack in the hospital after Cheaney quote "peppered him good." Yea he peppered you. With live ammunition. Come on now.

I don't know the logistics of what the man looked like, but I'm guessing that the before and after photo looked something like this:

Hey, people make mistakes. I know I did when I was throwing darts and hit one of the members of the chess team in the temple. I was my class vice president though so they didn't give me any detention.

Also, my president that year was a douche bag.

The Winter Olympics Sure Are Horrible

2006-02-14T04:57:00.000-05:00

Much like La Nina and the midterm elections, the Winter Olympics are back, albeit with much less fanfare than their more famous counterparts. (boy I love that El Nino) I don't usually watch, but they're here so why the fuck not make fun of 'em.

Much like ice dancing, I will grade each sport on a scale up to 6. Since it seems the judges never go below 5 so as not to hurt the feelings of the skaters, neither will I. Unless they really suck.

1. Figure Skating
The outfits! The dancing! The bribery of the judges! The drama of watching them leap and not know whether they're going to land the triple lutz safely or crack a vertibrae! Of course, this is the most popular of the Winter Olympic sports. When you have all of the women as well as all of the gay men watching, it's no wonder. The big news at this Olympics is that Michelle Kwan has dropped out because of a groin injury. (insert flexible athelete/sexually inappropriate groin injury joke here) Many in the ice skating community thought she shouldn't have been on the team in the first place becasue she was too old. At this time I submit my opinion that any sport that you are too old for at 25 is also bull shit. Another big news item is the discussion among the Olympic community that judging in the games may still be skewed, as it was in the last Olympics when someone paid a French judge to alter the scores. I still think it was the Germans. Can never trust those Germans. At this time I submit my opinion that any sport that is scored by judges is bullshit. Just putting that out there.

The Horrible Judge gives it a 5.47 (out of 6)

2. Hockey
Do you believe in miracles? Not since the NHL went on lockout for a year or so. Everybody lost interest. And with this gambling debacle hanging over the defending champion Canadian team's general manager Mr. Gretzky (even though he seemingly did nothing wrong) NBC is going to lord that over our heads for the next 2 weeks. I like hockey. It's fun to watch. Plus there's nothing like a Dutchman beating the crap out of an Italian for no reason other than a little hip check. (I say the Germans put him up to it)

The Horrible Judge gives it a 5.84

3. Women's Hockey
Less people care about women's hockey than women's basketball. Enough said.

The Horrible Judge gives it a 5.21

4. Curling
I don't know why I love the curling. It has everything I hate about the Winter Olympics. Slow paced action. Arcane rules and completely nonsensical scoring system. Canadian color commentators. Plus it's shuffleboard on ice. Come on. I should hate this. But...

The Horrible Judge gives it a 5.58

5. Downhill Skiing
What say you and I get off the ice for a little while? Downhill skiing is a good one. Very exciting. Any sport in which a guy can accidentally lose control and fly 50 feet directly sideways is a favorite of mine. One of the big stories of the Olympics is the comments of American Skier Bode Miller about the performance enhancing drugs of people like Lance Armstrong and Barry Bonds, as well as his comments regarding skiing downhill drunk. Anything that will add to the bodycount I'm all for. (well, I guess we've found that I'm a sadistic bastard, but there's just nothing like a head wound on my TV)

The Horrible Judge gives it a 5.69

6. Skull/Luge
Let's combine these because they're the same damn thing. Luge is basically putting a skate in your ass and sliding down a bobsled chute at 80 mph. And for those who don't think luge is intense enough, some guy thought to himself, 'what if i luge face forward?' I can't go down the waterslides at Wyandot Lake face forward, but these guys can go the speed of a fast moving car down an rock hard ice slide wearing nothing but a full body scuba outfit? That's bullshit. But any sport where serious blade-to-face harm is likely is good. (again, sadism) These ones are less exciting though because of the inherent homosexuality of the two-man versions of both games. Plus the Germans usually do well in these events.

The Horrible Judge gives it a 5.45

7. Cross Country Skiing/Biathlon
Cross country skiing sucks. It's like watching power walking on two-by-fours. Biathlon is just Scandinavian drive-by. This one sucks too.

The Horrible Judge gives it a 5.33

I guess that's about it. I'm not watching any of these anyway. I have more important things to attend to, like playing Shaq-Fu on my SNES.

Damn Germans.

Why Your Stories Suck: Beer, Sleep, and Basic Cable

2006-02-12T09:03:00.001-05:00

I feel like I shouldn't have to explain this to people, but apparently you're all retarded so here's a refresher course on acceptable behavior.

There are three ways you should never start a story. The first is, 'so I was drinking the other night...' because every one thinks that they have good drunk stories. Not just good drunk stories but the drunk stories to end all drunk stories. This is incorrect. We all have the same drunk stories. Funny shit happens when you inbibe alcohol (or when people drink alcohol and you cross paths), but I don't regale you with stories about it. That's stupid. Unless you personally woke up handcuffed to a goat and a bike rack wearing a birthday hat and missing a sock (but not a shoe) then I don't want to hear about it.

The second is, 'listen to this dream I had...' because the correct translation of that sentence is, 'this didn't happen, now listen to me talk about it as if it did for the next fifteen minutes.' No, really, the snake almost got me, but luckily the pirate ship was right there so I got back to the candy canes. Fantastic, I'm gonna stab myself in the temple now.

Third, and most important, is the ever popular, 'I saw this scene from this TV show...' Stop. Just stop. I even try to do this one occasionally but it never works. Ever. This one always ends with the story teller realizing that the audience doesn't think it's funny and then saying, 'I guess you had to be there.' No shit, that's why it's in television format and not chain letter. I don't think the original authors of the script were putting any thought into what the story would sound like as told by you and if they did they would have destroyed every existing copy.

We clear? Good. Now go about your business.

Also, the three of us are doing stand up comedy on Friday around midnight. Talk to us for more info.

Kick'em While They're Down: Freaks of Nature

2006-02-11T19:56:00.000-05:00

As Hurricane discussed this has been a rough couple weeks for your Horrible People. With a cancelled radio show, postponed stand up and mid terms we've not been giving the correct amount of hilarity our audience craves nor the amount we enjoy providing. I think this is probably my first post in a couple weeks so I am trying to ease back into things. I could insult the establishment or take down the hipocrisy found in society, but that's kinda hard. Instead I'm going to kick'em while they're down this week and insult some freaks of nature.

By no fault of their own these monstrosities came into the world, and now it's time I put them in their place. They can't get away with feeling unique, when really they're just oddities fit for a sideshow.

Double Mouthed Fish!

This rainbow trout was caught in Lincoln, Nebraska, officially making this the most exciting thing to ever happen in the state's history. He was weighed in at about a pound. Pretty pathetic considering hes got twice the opportunity to stuff his fat fish face. Hey dummy, guess you also had twice the opportunity of getting hooked and eaten. Don't give me that surprised, gaping mouths look. Be polite and close both those, you scaley abomination. Actually the fisherman who caught you, Clarence Olberding, says the bottom mouth didn't appear to be functional. Way to go dumbass stink trout, guess your second set of hanging lips was just a hip decoration, which is about as cool as a spoiler on a Honda. Meaning not cool at all, ugly. And now Olberding plans on having you smoked and eaten. Hope Clarence enjoys the pesticides and mercury that was coursing through your veins that obviously created your malformed body. Oh and by the way, fuck you.

Double Snake!

I guess horrible anomalies come in twos. This double-headed albino rat snake has got grotesque written all over it. And listen up snakey, I don't want you getting a big heads just because an aquarium purchased you for 15,000 and is placing you on eBay at a starting bid of 150 thousand. It's a sick world and there are just freaky people out there who want you writhing in a glass tank for shits and giggles. You're nothing more than a lava lamp, something to add pizazz to a refurnished basement. You remind me of a push-me-pull-you except a lot less furry and cute and a lot more horrifying. I hope you two are someday able to be seperated. Forcibly by a taffy puller.

5 Legged Calf!

Ew. That best sums up this little monstrosity. This 5-legged, 6-hooved calf was born on a ranch in New Mexico. If the 5th leg wasn't bad enough you had to throw on an extra hoof, didn't you? What, didn't have enough room for a third eyeball you stupid, multi-limbed heifer? I've never seen a calf with a built in kick stand before. That's really going to deter the cow tipping when you grow up, unless of course they push from the right. I'm only kidding with you, give me five. Or is it five and a half? Or better yet go fuck yourself and your need for polylimbed existence. And yes, I needed to invent the word polylimbed since there is no name for whatever fucking disorder you so ardently wish to live with.

Cycloptic Kitten!

I prayed that this was photoshopped somehow, however it's all to real. Here we have a photo of Cy, a kitten born with one eye. His name, short for cyclopes (apparently his owners were about as creative as he is normal), was given at birth. Unfortunately for you Cy you didn't live much after that since you also didn't have a nose. Way to go genius, guess your plan for being an attention grabbing mutant didn't include having a clear pathway for air. Kittens really are adorable aren't they? I look forward to seeing you in the next Wes Craven film playing the part of living nightmare. You've guaranteed me several nights of restless sleep and for that I condemn you.

Well that is all I've got to say to you repulsive wastes of life. But don't let this get to you to much. Just to show you I am not all bad here is an inspirational poster that applies to you all, and hopefully gives you a positive and accurate outlook.

The Letter I Wish I Could Send To A Certain Member Of A Radio Station

2006-02-08T10:27:00.000-05:00

Dear Member of a Radio Station (who shall remain nameless),

I'm constantly amazed that the world is filled with assholes like you.

Who misconstrue the tiny slice of power they have as absolute.

Who feel the supreme need to protect the public at large from nudity and sexual innuendo.

Who, even as adults, don't understand that humor is subjective.

Who believe that the fabric of society is being torn apart not by people that cheat on their wives and beat their kids but instead by those who push the boundaries of free speech to get a laugh or two.

Who think they're morally superior because they laugh at Marmaduke and Jeff Foxworthy instead of something with a little edge.

Who claim to be for the 'rebel cause' and free speech but flinch at the sight of possible retaliation from those in power.

Who act passive-aggressively instead of logically.

Who are not interested in hearing both sides of a story but rather in only their views and beliefs of a given situation through their fish-eyed lens view of the world.

Who can only see the worst that could happen and not the best.

Who create fables and conspiracy theories to justify positions rather than use fact.

Who find every reason to say 'no' when there are just as many reasons to say 'yes.'

Your hypocrisy is pervasive and your lack of common sense is astounding. It is amazing to me how far people such as yourself can get with such a pessimistic and paranoid outlook on life. The foolhardy notion that you are somehow a cog in the machine by censoring even the most obviously sarcastic and basically harmless forms of media is preposterous.

I'm constantly amazed that the world is filled with assholes like you. Yet somehow I get through the day. Do you know why?

Because I know that I'm never going to be as ignorant you.

Dur Burger!

2006-02-07T05:11:00.000-05:00

We’ve been having a particularly unfunny week here at the Horrible offices. Our radio show was cancelled five hours before it was to premier because of the flier we made; we missed the deadline to enter a film festival we were looking forward to; the voices that used to talk to me don’t talk to me quite as much as they used to. But we have found hilarity and we suggest you take full advantage.

Dur Burger!

That’s it. Those two words as spoken by Steve Martin in the trailer for the upcoming box office flop ‘The Pink Panther’ have given me and the other two guys’ hours of entertainment.

Just say it a few times to yourself in that ridiculous accent. Funny, right?

It’s unfortunate that it won’t be a good movie. Steve Martin is awesome and used to be really funny, both Kevin Kline and Jean Reno are fine actors, and Beyonce is also a fine actor (see what I did there). Alas, much like our ill-fated radio show, it has too much working against it. If I have learned two things in my movie watching experience they are as follows: one, remakes of movies or TV shows from the fifties are terrible most of the time and are always, always worse that the originals (see House of Wax), and two, movies starring SNL alums usually suck, and the suck ratio goes up as the aging comedian’s career wanes (see Chevy Chase). Those two factors, plus the fact that films featuring Beyonce suck, put this film on a collision course with failure. I will most likely not go to see it (I’ll wait for it to be on the movie channel; if it has Beyonce’s ass I’ll watch it).

With that said, I would like to thank the makers of the trailer for ‘The Pink Panther’ for putting in the preview what I’m sure is the only really funny part of the movie.

You Find Censorship In The Strangest Places

2006-02-01T12:59:00.000-05:00

So I pulled an all-nighter last night. It’s something I do on occasion. The combination ADD-Insomnia-Caffeine helps, but also I really wasn’t that tired. Maybe that’s the heroin talking. Anyway, not a big deal, but it led me to be bored out of my skull at about 3:30 in the morning. It’s the perfect time of night for there to be absolutely nothing on television. They’re replaying the first quarter of some NBA game I don’t care about on ESPN instead of SportsCenter (a show which I could watch the same episode of until I have it memorized, and often times I do); there are Bowflex and Girls Gone Wild knockoff infomercials on every other channel, some crappy half-star movie is on Sci-Fi (on this occasion it happened to be TMNT3); the normal nighttime stuff.

But then I happened upon something worth watching. On Bravo they were playing a special on censorship and The Smothers Brother Show, a show which I am a huge fan of. For those who aren’t familiar with the Smothers Brothers go do some quick research.

I’ll wait.

You back? Okay, good.

I adore the Smothers Brothers not only because they are hilarious but also because they broke down so many barriers for TV shows today. There is no true equivalent to what Lenny Bruce did for stand up comedy but what the Smothers Brothers did for TV is as close as you can get. To make a long story short, the brothers were not popular with CBS once they started getting political (in spite of their public popularity) and were essentially kicked off the air. Previous to their being run out of town, however, they had some very strange moments in censorship history. On singer Joan Baez’s first television appearance (which was on the show) she was giving a little talk about how her husband is going to jail because he avoided the draft, so here’s a little ditty about that. But what the TV audience heard was basically something like;

‘Here’s a song for my husband, who’s going to jail soon… (weird looking cut because the camera was on her the whole time) so here’s a song about that.’

Very strange, right?

Another one of my favorite arbitrary uses of censorship was in Patrice O’Neal’s Comedy Central special. It was a few months after the D.C. sniper had been caught so it was still a hot button issue. His bit went something like this:

‘For a month everyone was saying that this sniper was a genius and that he employed incredibly intelligent tactics in his attacks; but then they found out he was black and now he’s just a nigga in a Buick.’

Really funny bit, but I didn’t think so at the time because they bleeped the word Buick. Not nigga, no that’s okay to say on TV (it’s only cable), but Buick? Can’t say that. The bit doesn’t have teeth anymore, just as the Smothers Brothers struggled to have impact in the face of completely unchecked censorship.

Which brings me to my personal problem here; as I said before, I’m up all night (any Lionel Richie, ladies?). So I’m going out to breakfast and check my mail around 9 this morning and I’m taking the fliers for the radio show with me to put up. I’ve got about 33 of the ‘Cook Sock’ ones and about 17 or 18 of the completely non-offensive ‘Got Any Jokes’ ones. I’m sticking them around the dining hall and on the flier boards and such, until I’m completely out of the 50 sheets of paper I left with. I go back to my room.

Shit, I forgot my keys in my mailbox again (I do this about twice a quarter, probably the ADD).

So now I walk back into the dining hall area and I see that... Hey, where are my fucking fliers (I say to myself)? The one I posted over there is gone, the one on that wall is gone too. The one on that post is gone and that was the one that only had words on it! What the fuck, man? So I’m about to go to the grounds keeping office, because surely it’s the cleaning crew thinking this is just old announcements, when I see a man with a mustache in a tie and button shirt (who looks like he’s in charge of some part of the building) walking with about 10 pieces of paper in his hand. They’re the ads! My fucking ads! Shit. So I follow him and he walks to the head office of the complex, stops in for about twenty seconds, and walks back out. So now I’m a little worried, until I realize a few things:

Number one, there’s no real good way to track back to us (and no way to track back to me specifically) unless he goes to the blog address and finds us (and no one reads this blog anyway) or contacts ACRN.com about it, which may happen. But that’s a lot of work for a couple of fliers.

Number two, what’s offensive about this flier? A partially naked woman is somewhat offensive I guess, but not really. It’s nothing a woman hasn’t seen before, and it’s not like her jumblies are showing. So there’s a little bit o’ nip peeking out there. Barely noticeable unless you really look. A little areola never hurt anybody anyway; am I right or am I right? Does a body good to see some woman’s nipple every now and then. Also, there are no dirty words in the ad. None. Read it twice. Read it again. None. Just the illusion of one, like Muck Fiami, and that doesn’t count. What you see isn’t my fault. If you see ‘Suck Cock’ that’s all on you. It’s your mind playing tricks on you and taking it in a sexual connotation based on visual stimuli. You sick bastards.

Number three, let’s assume that it is deeply and emotionally offensive to someone or a group of someones (to which a little ditty about sticks and stones comes to mind) and that they trace it to me (seeing as I’m admitting it on this post that doesn’t seem that farfetched). Cry about it. What are you going to do about it? Arrest me? Suspend me? Take me to court for posting a few dozen fliers? Please, that’s crap. What right do you have to take them down anyway? I believe by friend Bill (of Rights) will back me up on this one. That’s illegal. That’s treading on Nazism. That, my friends, is misapplied use of authority and extreme censorship.

And who exactly am I offending so deeply on this liberal arts hippie campus (not hippocampus, that’s something else)? What is the flier that is so harmful? I seem to remember a truck with a picture of an aborted fetus on the side of it driving around uptown. I seem to recall protesters playing dead and posting pictures of decaying soldier’s corpses on foam core boards in plain sight of the common populous. And that was in town, not in the dorm areas that I was posting the fliers in (I was going to go post the fliers uptown later). How is what I’m doing so much different?

Jesus, it’s a joke. It’s designed to grab the reader’s attention (which it obviously did, at least one) and get you to listen to our radio show (7-8 pm Fridays on ACRN.com). It’s not promoting violence or bigotry or sexism. It has no possible political spin whatsoever. It’s a tongue-in-cheek turn of phrase with a funny photo to match.

Have a sense of humor for God sakes.

I guess we can blur the areola; that might be a little too much.

Cook that Sock

2006-02-01T01:02:00.000-05:00

Here's a little flier we made to promote the new show. It's effective because it attracts perverts and dyslexics. I'm pretty sure a majority may be torn down but as long as some people get the message and tune in we'll be happy.

Also make sure to check out the show 7-8 on ACRN.com this Friday. Should be an awesome time and you can start drinking during it to kick off the weekend.

Got Any Jokes?

2006-01-29T22:57:00.000-05:00

We Do. Listen to:

Horrible Radio

Ohio University's premier comedy radio show on Friday,

February 3rd 7-8 p.m.

on ACRN.com with Special Guest Bruce Dalzell. Also, sorry for the lack of posts on the blog recently. We've been busy trying to get Horrible Radio on the air, and also we had a stand up show this past weekend and we had to write other comedy for that. Plus we've had classes and bullshit. We'll post things later (and by we, I mean Jay and I, because Miller never fucking writes for this thing), but in the mean time the radio should be pretty freakin' sweet.

So listen in.

The Gift Of Beard

2006-01-22T07:07:00.000-05:00

I am very stressed by many recent trends in popular culture but one supersedes the rest. It has seeped into all classes and creeds of our great nation and may soon infect the whole planet. The problem most worrisome to me is not the India/Pakistan conflict or the Alito hearings or even the over/under on the Seahawks-Panthers game (but baby does need a new pair of shoes). No, the issue of the highest importance to me is this: beardlessness.

As you know, facial hair February is coming up in the very near future, a fact that has not been recognized by the government no matter how many times I call them (and who have been suspiciously unmustachioed and beardless since the 1950s). The NFL has started the hairy face festivities early with quarterbacks Jake Plummer and Ben Roethlisberger having both gone mountain man style with their scraggly ass chinstraps (which is another reason why I care less about the NFC game and more about the AFC; c'mon, pappa wants a new car). As a proud beard wearer (I’m half Greek half Jewish, I stood no chance; I even shaved this morning and it refuses to leave) I would like to take this opportunity to convince you of the need for facial follicles in our country today.

1. Manliness Incarnate
It’s the step to manhood. It’s the milestone. Well, growing your pubes is too, but more importantly is your first shave. Of course the first person you think of when I say the words ‘manliness’ and ‘beard’ is Chuck Norris. Would you disagree? No, because if you did you’d take a swift roundhouse to the head. In fact he’s the only one I’m going to put in this subset. Chuck Norris = manliness = beard.

2. Leadership In A Can
True leaders have facial hair; it’s a fact of life. Once again, I point to Chuck Norris, but in addition to the great Walker other leaders who have sported the whiskers of champions include God, Jesus, Moses, all of the generals and sergeants in the Civil and Revolutionary Wars, Teddy Roosevelt, Benjamin Harrison, Abraham Lincoln, three fourths of the Beatles (at any given time), Stalin, and Dumbledore. Reagan has nothing on Dumbledore. Know why? Not because he traded guns for hostages in an Alzheimer’s prescription induced haze, but because he had no hair on his chin. His memory would’ve returned forthwith had he just grown a few hairs under his jowls.

3. Skill with a Blade
Once again, Chuck Norris, but two other names spring to mind here as well: Master Splinter and Mr. Miyagi. Both sported the wispy whisker look to perfection. The ninja turtles would have sucked without Splinter just as the karate kid (and the next one) would have sucked too. The highlander had nothing on those guys (that clean shaven prick, Miyagi would have kicked his ass; wax on, brother, wax on). Other great swordsmen with the fuzzy faces include Blackbeard, Jack Sparrow, pretty much everybody from Lord of the Rings, and Raz Al Gul from the latest Batman (which rocked my face off). Of course, skill with an axe is associated closely with the facial locks too, as seen most clearly with Gimli (from Lord of the Rings) and ZZ Top.

4. Hair Brains
How could you argue with Socrates, the three wise men (they’ve got wise right in the name!), Gandalf, Peter Jackson, Steven Spielberg, and The Dude from ‘Big Lebowski?’ What’s the best you got? Steven Hawking? Please, that douche on wheels couldn’t hold a candle to The Dude (mostly because he can’t hold a candle at all, freaking cripple; why can’t you stop trying to explain the universe and try to invent a way to move your pinky?). Case in point: Howard Lederer made the final table in the main event at the WSOP the first year he entered. He had a beard that year. He no longer has one. He hasn’t made the final table since.

5. The Comedy ‘Stache
Everybody knows that the one way to guarantee laughs is the comedy ‘stache. The casts of Anchorman, Wedding Crashers, Dodgeball, Starsky and Hutch, and many more films use them, plus characters of comedic genius like Silent Bob, Peter Griffin (for that one episode where he had the nest of birds in it), Yosemite Sam, and Shaggy from Scooby Doo. Great comedians like George Carlin, Richard Pryor, Steven Wright, Mitch Hedberg, Billy Connolly, Eddie Izzard, Rip Taylor, and almost every ventriloquist ever utilize a beard or mustache of some kind. Coincidence? I think not.

6. Free Mustache Rides
Perhaps the most notable use of facial hair in history is to that of the porn industry. The porn ‘stache is an entity all its own, autonomous from every other kind of follicle fad. It has never been duplicated in its mastery of representing an era (but the disco handlebar came close). The mustache represents sexual prowess. Once again, see Chuck Norris.

Get ready for facial hair February. And mutton chops March.

Wax on.

You Only Live Twice

2006-01-19T01:45:00.000-05:00

I’m having one of those days. I lost 200 bucks playing poker tonight. I just found out I missed a quiz in History 132 this week that will account for about 10 percent of my total grade. My B button is sticky all of the sudden. Just one of those days.

But nothing like what Raju Raghuvanshi must be feeling like right now. The full story is in this link, but the long and the short of it is that he was in prison for a year where he contracted a stomach virus. He recovered, but someone heard that he was dead and told the folks in his home town of Mandla in India that he passed away. But he came back. Good news, right? Well, not so much. His brothers, who shaved their heads in mourning, fled at the sight of him. Children screamed "Ghost! Ghost!" and ran. Villagers locked their doors. In other words, pretty much what happens whenever Miller Time walks in the room.

Here's a picture of myself (right) and... Oh my god! The ghost of Miller!

But that’s the end of it, right? Again, not so much. Raghuvanshi filed a complaint about the treatment he was receiving, to which the city council told Raju he must prove he isn’t a ghost. I’ll let you read that again. The city council told Raju he must prove he isn’t a ghost! Jesus Christ, these people have nuclear capability! You know what that means? It means they might use ‘The Bomb’ against Santa Claus is he crosses into the no-fly. Frightening.

Can’t he just say, "Here, poke me with this stick," and it’ll be over with? Or make him eat a sandwich; I bet ghosts can’t digest. It would just fall out of him, right? Anyway, why would it be bad to have a ghost hang around? It’s not like he can do anything; he’s just pixie dust and starlight.

I hope he can convince his home town that he’s no longer dead. But not quite as much as I hope I get my money back.

Goddamn flush draws.

Giving Credit Where Credit Is Due

2006-01-16T19:22:00.000-05:00

No, this post isn’t about the tax code (sorry to disappoint).

A battle is being waged (another money joke) on the internet for the use of material. As far as I’m concerned it is between the popular humor website EBaumsWorld.com and the more underground YTMND.com, but there are other parties involved. The YTMND site (named so for the cult following of the popular ‘Finding Forrester’ quote “You the man now, dog!” spoken ridiculously by Sean Connery) and it’s contributors are up in arms over a number of jokes and videos YTMND created and that EBaums proceeded to take for themselves. They gave no credit for the stolen footage. The straw that broke the camel’s back was a video called ‘Lindsey Lohan doesn’t change facial expressions’ (which is very funny and you should click that link to watch it, and there are other celebrities with similar videos) was taken without permission from YTMND by the folks at EBaums. No big deal, right? Well since EBaums sells ad space it is a big deal. From what I’ve heard from a guy I know* about the subject is that EBaums makes close to $6,000 a day from the ads, and the people who make the clips (including YTMND) get no part of the action. I guess you see the point of the money references. YTMND faithful began flooding the EBaumsWorld.com forums with spam and EBaums called the cops and wrote this funny letter to YTMND. And so war was upon us.

*I understand that something ‘I heard from this guy’ isn’t that reliable of a source and probably wouldn’t stand up in court, but know what? Not your CNN news guy, so shut up. Also, CNN isn’t that reliable anymore anyway, so put that in your pipe and smoke it.

Now, I have been known to borrow material for this site (see Commandment III) and in my stand up act. Back in the day (meaning last year) I would borrow a line or two (or more) from guys who I think are very funny like Mitch Hedberg, Jimmy Carr, Mike Birbiglia, and a few others, but the difference between myself and Eric Bauman, the creator of the aforementioned website, is that I do a number of things differently. I no longer use other comedian’s material because I have enough material now that I don’t need to use other people’s crap any longer, when I did I gave credit (not $, but I did give Dap) to those comedians, and (most importantly) I and my compatriots do not sell ad space. We don’t need to; simply reading Horrible People once a day will make your penis bigger in just 4 weeks.**

**Side effects may include itchy feet, upset stomach, blurred vision, vomiting, increased blood pressure, water in the knee, ankle bone connected to the knee bone, nasal leakage, brain tumors, diarrhea, rickets, irritability, and death. Side effects will include increased sense of humor and decreased moral levels.

I can understand people being angry at me for using material that I had no permission to use which is why I tend to not do it any more. Eric Bauman and the 20 or so other people who make the close to $2,190,000 (6,000x365) a year do not. I used the material because I thought it would get me more laughs just as EBaums uses other things to get more hits. But what I did is not impeding anybody’s ability to make money. It’s not like Mitch Hedberg was across town telling the same jokes and I was disrupting his audience potential. EBaums is making money off of other people’s work and that’s why it is illegal.

Mitch Hedberg’s dead now, so all his stuff is public domain anyways.

Just kidding.

Seriously though, click this link for free porn.

An open letter to...Real Worlders

2006-01-15T19:25:00.000-05:00

Hey Real Worlders,
Over the long weekend I was fortunate enough to catch some of the fine reality based programming that can be seen on MTV. I know they used to get caught up with music and dabbled in original comedy and animation series but luckily those days are over. Sandwhiched between brain dead LA 20 somethings being force fed lines on 'Next' to Miami STD carriers on 'Room Raiders', I was able to catch the season wrap up of your show. I am sure this isn't the first or last time it will be played but I wanted to make a few things clear that apparently are only obvious to the rest of the world.

Let me first get a little more specific. The episode I watched was for the recap of Real World Austin. I didn't even know there was an Austin. Or any Real World after the season where the black guy and that alcoholic chick got naked in the pool in the first episode, of whatever season it was when I was still in middle school. I bring this to your attention because one of you Real World Austin alumn mentioned that you guys are unique. So unique in fact I can't even remember who said it.

You are not unique. You are the same shameless, celebrity craving idiots they get every season. You say that no one has had, or will have the same experience? Well, based off of the MTV website Austin was the 16th season. Let me do some quick math, that is 7 strangers picked to live in a house for over 16 seasons, which makes 112 people who did the same motherfucking thing! 112 people who lived for free, for several months with some cameras around and who were manipulated by producers and editting techniques to create a false sense of drama. Wow, that really is an amazing feat that you and every other cast experienced.

Although I agree it is strange how everyone in Austin seemed to hate you during filming. Funny how people disrespect no talent reality stars that act as if everyone in the room owes them special treatment. But don't feel bad when you are publicly ridiculed over televised footage of you at your worse. I think it's in your contract that you can't. Also look forward to the special Challenges and Reunion specials that will interupt your exciting and lucrative careers waiting tables and taking ticket stubs. Or go the quick route that Mel, Tonya and Trishelle took and get skanky behind the scenes and on the net.

I'll take a minute here and let my roomate finish masterbating to those pics, since he, for some reason, loves girls with mediocre looks and drinking problems. I think the message I am trying to convey here is stop. Just fucking stop. MTV can't make more trash if you just say no. Say no to creating a legacy with how many hook-ups you got in RoadRules/RealWorld Challenge Thailand. And for the love of Christ stop thinking you accomplished something. You created soft core club footage to build ad space around. That's it. Now if you don't mind I have some reality skank photos to peruse.

Cordially,
Jay Runner

Reuben Tells You Why Your Favorite Movie Sucks: Hostel

2006-01-14T03:16:00.000-05:00

Let me tell you all a little story. One day, ‘Kill Bill’ director and professional raving lunatic Quentin Tarantino and ‘Cabin Fever’ director and fellow professional raving lunatic Eli Roth decided to make a movie. The lovechild they ended up spewing out was the film ‘Hostel’ and boy did it suck the nut.

In a related story, I have decided to keep my raving lunatic status as amateur so as to keep my Olympic eligibility. You agents can stop calling me now.

Well if the agents aren’t the ones calling then what are those voices I hear?

Enough with the foreplay, you came for the good stuff.

1. Wading In The Shallow End
Story so weak chemo patients could beat it in a cage match. Characters so dull classic C-SPAN looks more enjoyable. To delve into the contents of the movie would not only ruin the story for you, but would also give merit to the movie as being more complex than one sentence can provide, which is not true. Much like Titanic, which could be described simply as ‘the boat sank,’ ‘Hostel’ can easily be summed up as a story about two Americans on a European road trip who get tortured. Not really any good plot twists. And let me tell you about the one dimensional characters. The introverted naïve virgin, his friend the excitable west coast hipster, the wacky euro-pop happy go lucky goof, the creepy old guy with homosexual tendencies, the list goes on. No original thought, no development, just lots of graphic sex and violence. Boy, hard to see how this is a Tarantino project.

2. The Greatest 32 Minutes In Film History
Okay, that’s some overstatement there, but the first 32 minutes of Hostel were fucking awesome. Actually, it was mostly just fucking. There were hot women topless in saunas, high and drunk party chicks showing everything, a couple having sex in the background of one scene for no reason. It was pretty sweet. Just gratuitous nudity from wall to wall. I needed to crack a window it was so pungent. It was awesome.

3. The Worst 63 Minutes In Film History.
That one isn’t overstatement. People’s heads and fingers and shit getting chopped off without warning, completely unoriginal and uninspired dialogue, creepy gangs of kids for no reason, plot twists that make absolutely no sense. This movie took a nose dive. It makes me queasy just thinking about it. Not the gore and blood, but the ill-conceived notion that this film would be enjoyable to anyone. It’s offensive to me as a viewer that anyone would think that it would be a good movie.

4. Déjà Vu All Over Again
Remember Euro Trip? Same movie, but this one is not as funny. Almost, but not quite. I understand that Hollywood has run out of ideas, but this is ridiculous. Much like the classic films ‘Fail Safe’ and ‘Dr. Strangelove: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb,’ this film takes from a comedy released a few years earlier and makes it into a dark glimpse of the human unconsciousness. But whereas ‘Fail Safe’ was a great movie, ‘Hostel’ was, well, not so much. Roth should start to learn to love the bomb.

Other than perfect fodder for Mystery Science Theatre 3000, this movie defied physics by blowing and sucking at the same time. No redeeming qualities whatsoever (after the first half hour, I mean).

I told you to stop calling already, so leave me alone!

Reuben Tells You Why Your Favorite Music Sucks, Part 2: County Music Television

2006-01-13T11:48:00.000-05:00

A little generic, but I think you know what I’m getting at. This subject covers not so much the actual abomination known as CMT, but instead 90% of all country music made since, I don’t know, how ‘bout 1997. Apparently, if you put on a cowboy hat and some denim and have a handlebar mustache you can sell a million records with simply god awful uncreative misogynistic lyrics and a whammy bar. A little hint from we here at Horrible People; stick with Willie Nelson and Johnny Cash (and Joaquin Phoenix’s exhumation and reincarnation).

This one’s going to be like shooting fish in a barrel (and I have a double barrel shotgun chalk full of hate).

1. Rich... But Not Smooth

Very high on the list of crappy corporate created country crapola (wow, that’s a whole lot of alliteration) is the ‘band’ Big and Rich. I use the term ‘band’ loosely because, much like so-called ‘boy band,’ I have never seen either of them actually playing a guitar. I’ve seen them holding them in their videos while grinning at an overhead boom camera, but not playing them. It’s a prop, not a tool (not unlike Britney Spears and a microphone). But I digress. Big and Rich does the song ‘Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)’ which I hate for a few reasons but I’ll limit it to two. First, I hate any song that has half of its title in parenthesis. Just name the fucking song, there’s no need for multiple names. My name isn’t Hurricane (Reuben), because that would be retarded. Hurricane Reuben. Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy. Add a comma if you want. Go ahead, do it. Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy. Assholes. Second, it has become the drunk sorority girl anthem. Not the hot drunk sorority girls that might go home with me later if I play my cards right, but the ones that remind those hot girls that they ‘promised we’d all leave together’ and look like Garfield (the cat or the president). And I think we all know where the drunk sorority sing-along leads: group cry time on the street corner because ‘Jesse just doesn’t understand!’ Don’t bring that weak shit up in my house. They have some other songs, but they aren’t nearly as popular. Thank God.

2. Honkey Tonk Piece Of Crap
Contrary to popular belief, Tracy Atkins’ song ‘Honky Tonk Badonkadonk’ is not in fact music. It is the sound of Hell. At least that’s what’s track 1 in my version of Hell’s play list is. Number 2 is listening to all of the episodes of ‘Friends’ in succession. I’m amazed I haven’t shot him yet. Which record executive decided, ‘you know what, this guy has something here with his mixture of black slang, overused country lingo, and dance beats?’ If you know, please send their name and address to me as soon as possible.

3. The Dukes Of Bad Country
Jessica Simpson is hot. Willie Nelson is awesome. What could go wrong? Everything, apparently. I would just mute the video when it came on. Suffice it to say that shortly after the video came on the TV...
*see below if you didn't get that joke.

4. Never Trust A Man With Two First Names (And Two Greatest Hits Albums)
Toby Keith. What else can I say? You already know the Built Ford Tough. I can’t watch those commercials anymore. Just buying into the stereotype. I didn’t know any more stuff he did so I had to look him up because I couldn’t name a single Toby Keith song. Not one. Which is why I was most surprised when I saw that he has a greatest hits album. Shocking, huh? How about the fact that he has a second greatest hits album? That means the following things all had to occur: someone decided that Toby Keith had any hits at all let alone enough to release a greatest hits album, then a record exec had to ascribe to it, then he had to sell so many of those albums so as to get Toby to release more so called music, then he had to have so many more hits that he needed a whole second greatest hits album. I swear to you, I have never heard a Toby Keith song. Ever. I can’t explain his apparent popularity.

To sum up; I like country music. Real country music, not this preprocessed prepubescent pop prepackaged puke (wow, that’s a whole lot of alliteration). We are witnessing the downfall of country music. What once was a great form of music with the tradition of bluegrass and hillbilly has regressed into some form of bad vaudeville. A little bad music, a little bad comedy, a little poorly thought out explicit sexuality and cliché lyrics. Something for everybody. To hate.

*...I came on the TV. you idiots.

We Put The 'Party' Back In The Nazi Party

2006-01-08T17:37:00.000-05:00

How are there still Nazis? I was under the impression that they died out with the dinosaurs and New Coke. But I saw some at a party recently! At first I thoguht they were just some guys with shaven heads, but when added to the black jeans, leather boots with oxblood laces, and knuckle tattoos I just couldn't come to any other conclusion. College guys, too, not like 25 or 30, they were like 20. As a parent, how do you not see the warning signs of that?

Kid: "Hey Mom, Hey Dad." (Nazi salutes to parents)
Dad: "Hi, son."
Kid: "Like the new boots? They came with the uniform."
Mom: "Looking good, honey."
Kid: "I'm going out for a walk." (Nazi marches out the door) "You coming to the barbeque tonight?"

They asked if I wanted to hang with them later. I declined.

Chuck Norris Jokes, comedy at its finest

2006-01-07T16:34:00.000-05:00

While on our never ending quest for great comedy we at Horrible People have recently been exposed to Chuck Norris Jokes. You can find them all over the internet on sites and messageboards proclaiming what a badass Chuck really is. Here's a list of 10 of our favorites followed by our very own versions.

Chuck Norris doesn't sleep. He waits.

Chuck Norris' tears cure cancer. Too bad he has never cried.

Chuck Norris has a word for people he put into a coma; that word is "lucky"

Chuck Norris likes to knit sweaters in his free time. And by "knit" I mean "kick", and by "sweaters" I mean "babies".

Chuck Norris lost his virginity before his dad did.

Chuck Norris sold his soul to the devil for his rugged good looks and unparalleled martial arts ability. Shortly after the transaction was finalized, Chuck roundhouse kicked the devil in the face and took his soul back. The devil, who appreciates irony, couldn't stay mad at Chuck and admitted he should have seen it comming. They now play poker every second Wednesday of the month.

Superman sleeps in Chuck Norris pajamas.

There is no theory of evolution, just a list of creatures Chuck Norris allows to live.

Chuck Norris uses a live rattlesnake as a condom.

There is no chin behind Chuck Norris' beard. There is only another fist.

And here are our very own...

Horrible Chuck Norris Jokes.

Chuck Norris once attempted to swim back and forth across the Atlantic ocean ten times but had to stop at nine, when an ocean liner known as the Titanic ran into his balls.

A white guy, a black guy and Chuck Norris walk into a bar. Who wasn't brutally roundhouse kicked in the face and killed? That's a rhetorical question.

If you can read this joke you haven't met Chuck Norris.

To create Stretch Armstrong dolls Chuck Norris simply blows his nose into their hollow frame.

When Chuck Norris was on Legends of the Hidden Temple he told Olmec where to go.

Chuck Norris is the 8th wonder of the world. And the first 7.

Chuck Norris found Osama Bin Laden, Waldo, and Carmen Sandiego before lunch.

Chuck Norris uses his middle and ring finger to crack walnuts. And coconuts. And if you cross him, your nuts.

Chuck Norris won't do a damn thing for a Klondike bar. But he'll take one anyway.

When Chuck Norris sits around the house, he roundhouse kicks you in the face.

While Chuck Norris was backpacking through China he was accidently bumped into by a noodleshop owner's wife. The woman, who gazed directly into his beard while apologizing, was impregnated instantly. She gave birth to twins later that year, the world knows them as Jackie Chan and Bruce Lee.

Chuck Norris doesn't have air conditioning because he exhales freon.

If you look up "badass" in the dictionary you won't find a picture of Chuck Norris becuase he has better things to do.

George Bush didn't have faulty intelligence when claiming Iraq possessed WMDs. Chuck Norris just left.

Hercules wasn't half man and half God, he was 1/16th Chuck Norris.

The only maneuver within the Kama Sutra that has not been performed by average men is the "Chuck Norris". It involves penetrating a woman from behind doggystyle while simultaneously roundhouse kicking her in the face. This is the only way Chuck Norris fucks.

Chuck Norris is not alive, because things that live will someday die. Chuck Norris exists.

If you give Chuck Norris a blowjob it will cure cavities and whiten your teeth. At least that's what he tells you.

The circle of life begins and ends with Chuck Norris.

The highest Terror Alert Level is Chuck Norris. It is the color of his beard.

When reading 'warning: don't try this at home', it applies to everyone but Chuck Norris.

Chuck Norris was able to put Humpty Dumpty back together again. Only to roundhouse kick him into oblivion.

It takes Chuck Norris one lick to get to the center of a tootsie pop.

Chuck Norris can drink and breathe at the same time. That's quite a feat seeing as how it's impossible.

Chuck Norris is so powerful that he can make 3 college students sit in a dorm room for 2 and a half hours comming up with Chuck Norris jokes.

(Post)Game Of The Century

2006-01-06T02:36:00.000-05:00

So just in case you’ve been trapped in a mine for the last week, the College Football National Championship was yesterday and Texas won. I actually only saw the last eight seconds because I was too busy feeding my poker habit (don’t you judge me), but those were some exciting eight seconds. Good stuff.

My problem isn’t with the game itself (which I’m sure was the realization of talentless suck hole and rambling coot Brent Musberger’s wet dream), but instead is with what ensued. First of all, the post game interviews were god awful. Everything that spilled out of a reporter’s mouth in interviewing either of the two big USC stars (Matt Leinart and Reggie Bush) was the most inappropriate thing to ask a losing team since the Romans asked Jesus, ‘How does that feel, douche bag?’ Questions like these:

"So Reggie, what were you thinking when you lateraled that ball?"

Was it high school all over again? That’s what you were thinking? No, you imbecile, it’s the fucking title game! Jesus, why didn’t you just put on your cape and fly to the fucking end zone? I’m sure it wouldn’t have surprised USC lampreys like former ‘Battlebots’ host Sean Salisbury and shell of a human being Lee Corso while they suck your cock a little bit more?

"Matt, with eight seconds left on the clock, why didn’t you make a quick pass to set up a field goal attempt or at least toss the ball incomplete for a last minute attempt?"

Oh jeez, I guess he just cracked under the pressure. I mean, he's never been in a big game situation like this before except for the other national title game and the other 15 or so ranked teams he's faced. I mean, he only won the Heisman once, so he can’t be that good. Seriously though, they paid him good money to throw the game.

And the stupidity didn't end at the questioning of the losing players. Vince Young, quarterback for the winning Longhorns, was faced with an intense grilling with astute questions like this:

"Vince, how do you feel about your performance in the game tonight?"

Oh, tough one. Well I guess he felt good about it, considering he set every record and nobody could touch him the whole damn night. Also, pure diesel fuel runs in his veins, which probably helped. And steroids. Oops!

The next person I hear say InVinceable in reference to Young is getting stabbed in the neck.

And that’s not all. Not even close. As if they didn’t replay that shit enough, they’ve already begun the countdown to the NFL draft, and since the projected top 3 picks were in the game last night the we’d all better get into a frenzy for the next… 4 months. Mel Kiper, Jr., whose obsessiveness of the draft is challenged only by Miller Time’s need to spout hateful remarks to passerbys, got all hot and bothered already, talking about whether or not Rose Bowl MVP Vince Young, 2005 Heisman winner Reggie Bush, or 2004 Heisman winner Matt Leinart will be the first pick. Exciting stuff. Though to be fair, I am more interested in this than anything having to do with Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt. Barely.

Honestly people, it’s just a game (at least that’s what I told my bookie; don't judge me). Let’s let these guys go back to normal college life, and not have to worry about what’s next for them and only worry about what the rest of us worry about.

Which of the hundreds co-eds who want it bad to bang first.

One Does Not Simply Blog Into Mordor

2006-01-04T15:03:00.000-05:00

They come with fire.

They come with angst.

They come with... drop C tuning.

What chance does man have against such reckless hate?

We must resist them. If we work together we can defeat the armies of Death Metal. We can defeat them. They are no match for our guitars that are correctly amplified, or our guitar strings that don’t slap incessantly against the pickups. The scream of the pterodactyl-like lead singer will no longer be heard in our midst. We must journey to the beginning, to the center of this evil. The Live Journal blogs.

We, the Horrible, will carry this burden. We ask that you join us on our quest, for when Gangstas and Hugs and Touch Pants can finally come together we will prevail against the forces of double bass drum and black face paint.

The blood-red colored contact lens Eye is upon us. We must move quickly. There are more evil things than Death Metal in the deep places of the world...

Go Forth and Be Funny, part III: The Ten Commandments

2006-01-04T14:40:00.000-05:00

And the Lord spoke unto Hurricane, "Go forth to your Horrible People and say: Our Lord gives unto our people these stone tablets, the Ten Commandments of comedy.” And Hurricane replied, “These look more like empty pizza boxes with sharpie marker scribbles on them.” “Silence! Then you shall read the Commandments to them, for many cannot read thanks to declining acceptance standards. Thou shalt follow the letter of this law lest you be smote!” “Smote?” “I can make up words whenever I please,” replied God, “how do you think all the other ones were made?” And Hurricane knew that he got his ass handed to him, and God went on:

I. Thou Shalt Be Funny
And God spoke unto Hurricane, “Thou shall funny at all times, even if only in your own mind’s eye. You shall giggle at inappropriate moments and crack jokes far too soon. You shall humor many with your witticisms and quips, and you will be looked upon as humorous all the days of your life.” And Hurricane was pleased and God was pleased and they had a moment. And it was good.

II. Thou Shalt Write
God then gave unto Hurricane the gift of writing. God said to him, “You shall spend half your day writing. You shall write in class, in your room and in your friend's rooms.” And God said, “But you will not write for class. You will only write for your stand up act and comedy blog.” And Hurricane nodded in approval, and it was good.

III. Thou Shalt Borrow Material
And God said unto Hurricane, “You and all the people of your kind shall borrow material from those funnier than you.” Hurricane was not convinced and asked, “Why?” God said unto him, “You shall not be able to make everything up yourself and therefore be left with writer’s block. You shall need a few more bits with only an hour before your next show and choose a few bits that most people have not heard of and use them for your own. After which,” God said, “You shall be called out for stealing material by a few audience members after your show and you shall be left wanting to write your own crap so you don’t have to take this shit anymore.” Hurricane did not like this Commandment but carefully considered what might happen if he and God got into a fist fight, so he begrudgingly accepted. And it was good.

IV. Thou Shalt Curse Like It’s Your Job
“Hurricane, thou shalt say shit and fuck a lot. It will not be pleasant either, for it will be angry and hateful will burn in the ears of the audience for hours. Your mind shall think that a cock sucker in this joke is unnecessary, but you are appealing to the lowest common denominator and must be as much like Bernie Mac as possible..” Hurricane was not pleased and called God out, saying, “Hold on, that’s not cool!” And with mighty wisdom and other verb-noun agreements you use to describe God, He responded, “Yea, I don’t like his stand up much either.” And it was good.

V. Thou Shalt Join A Comedy Troupe
Then God spoke again, saying, “And during the times that you are not eating, sleeping, writing, or shitting, thou shalt join a comedy troupe. You shall be on the list serve and receive e-mails all the time, but thou shalt not go to meetings.” And Hurricane asked why he should not go to meetings, and God responded, “Because Comedy on the Rocks is gay.” And Hurricane understood his teaching, and it was good.

VI. Thou Shalt Eat The Free Pizza
God called out again, saying, “Thou shalt eat the free pizza afforded to you by the venue. It is filling and does not require money for procurement, for thou art poor and cannot afford such luxuries.” God went on, “It shall not always be pizza. Sometimes it may be a hamburger or a grilled cheese sandwich. Sometimes it will be the peanuts on the bar. But it will be satisfying. Sometimes.” And it, too, was good.

VII. Thou Shalt Interact With The Audience
“Thou shalt make conversation with audience members, particularly those who you wish to hook up with later in the night. You shall also make haste in conversing with those drunk and disorderly in your audience, for they are most entertaining. Blessed are the drunk, for they are least likely to understand your insults.” And it was good.

VIII. Thou Shalt Criticize Other Comedians
God said unto Hurricane, “There will come a time that you will see a comedian finish their act, after which you will tell your buddy next to you that he sucked the nut. You will then proceed to tell your friend every detail of what the last guy did wrong; he was abrasive, he mumbled, he had material that only targeted a few audience members, he checked his notes too much.” Hurricane asked if it was he that was the bad comedian and God laughed but did not answer. And it was good.

IX. Thou Shalt Write For A Campus TV Show
Hurricane then asked, “But how shall I communicate these teachings outside of the stage?” And God answered, “Thou shalt write for a local television show. Thou shalt write for the show but rarely if every go to meetings, for you are lazy and too busy with other things like napping.” And it was good.

X. Thou Shalt Have Bad Nights
Hurricane asked for the final Commandment, and God said that he would not like it. “Lastly,” God decreed, “Thou shalt have bad nights on stage.” Hurricane looks upon the face of God confused. God went on, saying, “Thou shalt not apologize either. You have been using the same material for months now and it just so happened that this night all the people who wouldn’t like your jokes showed up. You will know in your heart that these jokes got tons of laughs last week, so you will not change a thing. But in your head you will have doubt about your material, so you will borrow more from other comedians to fill the void.” Hurricane wept at the news, but God comforted him, saying, “You will still get free pizza even if you cannot tell any jokes anymore.” This livened Hurricane’s spirit, so he said, “Thank you, Lord, you are most wise.”

To which God replied, “Why do the assholes always have to be the comedians?” And it was good.

Horrible Resolutions

2006-01-01T12:08:00.000-05:00

In honor of the start of a new year it's time to reflect on the good and bad and make some promises to yourself on areas you where you can improve. I know I've got my list made, and to make sure I'm held to it I'm posting it here. Here's a list of my horrible resolutions...

Get my grades up. However not through hard work but by hacking the school's server and cheating.

Learn to hack a school server and cheat, without getting caught.

Fight the power.

Stop collecting toe nail clippings in shopping bags. Jars are more effective.

Lobby for gay marriage until all people in America receive equal treatment.

Marry Jake Gyllenhaal.

Stop chasing two outers to the river and stop overplaying suited connectors in late position.

Stop using so much poker lingo.

Finally reach puberty.

Grow rugged beard to emulate Chuck Norris.

No longer allow people like Larry the Cable Guy, Carlos Mencia and Lisa Lampanelli on tv. They are destroying my love of comedy because they are shitty no talent hacks that survive on racial humor and poop jokes.

Get people to listen to David Cross, Patton Oswalt, Eugene Mirman, Zach Galifianakis and Mike Birbiglia. Along with other hilarious comics that restore my love of comedy.

Clone myself.

Enslave me.

Force me to work fast food and take checks from myself to play more poker.

Harvest clone's organs. Sell for poker money.

Reunite Hootie and the Blowfish to tour and release new album.

Update Horrible People more often.

Stop exagerating and using so much hyperbole.

Remain the savior of comedy through my incomparable genius and bootylicious body and start on MY ULTIMATE GOAL OF BECOMMING THE BENEVOLENT RULER OF EARTH!

...stop referring to body as bootylicious.

Fun With Kidpix

2005-12-29T21:13:00.000-05:00

So Runner made this H.P. logo and thought he could keep this little logo for himself on his other blog. I proved him wrong. Have a peek:

Nice, huh? Needs patching up before we start selling memorabelia, but it's good. Now I need to figure out how to get it up in the header permanantly. So be excited for that.

And the T-shirts.

Cheer Up, Emo Kid

2005-12-28T21:54:00.000-05:00

I found this website the other day. http://www.fourfa.com/ It claims to be an introductory course in Emo. A little nice to the Emo culture in my opinion, but he's dealing in information, not warnings. The readers who stumble upon the site can find out for themselves the dangers of Emo culture. I did. Screw 'em.

I have been anti-Emo since the beginning. It has become my comedic bread and butter, and you can be sure this won't be the last time I discuss them. I’m an old school hater. I was pissed off at Emo back when it was called Goth. Remember that? Goth? Yea, those were the days. But that was when it wasn’t cool to be Emo. It was a geek making fun of a dweeb sort of situation. Now it’s become cool to be Emo. They play them on the radio, they get invited to Conan; you get the picture. Now it’s a geek making fun of a cool kid situation. And, My Chemical Romance, that’s not okay.

Sure, you still see the occasional Goth kid, smoking outside your local Jiffy-Lube during a coffee break or scoffing at a piece of artwork in a bay window of a head shop. Here’s a hint: if you ever want to pick up a Goth chick at a bar, just do the following:

1) Sit down at the barstool next to hers.
2) Order a Jack and Coke and a beer.
3) Wait until you catch her eye, and then casually turn away.
4) After a few seconds, say, “This place sucks.”

And you’re home free. Sex so creepy and dirty from Goth that you’re shitting bats in the morning.

Interestingly enough, they depressed adolescent disenfranchised youth movement has fragmented again. ‘Scene’ kids. You’ve seen them, I can guarantee it. It’s sort of what you’d expect the denizens of hell to look like. Most of them lurking (that’s a good way to describe the way they act) at Hot Topic or by the LPs in the corner of your local music shop or at clubs standing against the wall in groups like The Outsiders. Don’t be fooled by what they call themselves, it’s just trying to ‘escape being labeled by the man.’ Now the tight panted legions we know and hate are Goth/Emo/Scene.

I hate them all equally. If we’re for anything here at Horrible People, it’s for equality.

Maybe I’m suffering from, "These kids today, with the clothes and the hair," kind of syndrome. I am getting to be a fuddy-duddy at my ripe old age of 19. But maybe, just maybe, I’m right. Did you ever think about that, Emo kid? Did you ever think you’re over-reacting just a wee bit by slitting your throat or destroying your parent’s collection of Humel figurines because you got grounded for being home late from your Linkin Park concert? You don’t think so? Maybe you’re overstating your sheer disdain for your Mom and whoever is fucking your mom at the time (I don’t want to discriminate) because you’re a manipulative little piece of trash who is using the negotiating tactics of a 3-year-old to get what you want? I would have guessed that most depressed 12 to 17-year-olds came from Harlem or Darfur or Port-Au-Prince. Surely your parents aren’t still together and don’t have good well paying jobs, because then you might actually have a reason to be depressed. Oh, you’re a white suburban middle/high school student. My bad.

Life is good here. You have running water; you have at least one family member who isn’t dead, starving, or in prison; you go to a school with walls and desks. Cheer up, Emo kid. Better yet, shut up. Just shut the fuck up.

Top Blog Dominance!

2005-12-27T11:09:00.000-05:00

I'll admit it, I want this to be the top rated blog. The site I originally started with friends as a place to write opinions on comedy and record ideas and jokes that could later be used in stand-up. It might be the kid in me that wishes his voice heard. Or maybe the megalomaniac in me that wishes his voice heard by force in a Big Brother style future in which I rule. Whatever the reason I now hope this site to have our humor and opinons sent out to as many web surfing strangers as possible.

So to get this site out I signed it up on Top Blogs listed under Humor. It's a place that rates your blog based off of hits. If you look to the side at the Humor Me! link it sends you there. We got some stiff competition on the humor page but normally find our way in the top ten. But there is a little more disparity in the overall standings.

When I check the overall standings to view how are humble page stacks up to the thousands of other blogs in all categories we aren't normally in the top ten. Or hundred for that matter. In fact we are beat out by pages updated far less frequently that have no original content. I'm going to give reviews to 3 of these blogs that continually best us and decide what it is that makes them so effective.

1. Diary Of a Porn Publisher
Far and away the reigning champ of Top Blogs. If I check it at any given time this site has over one hundred thousand hits. To put that in perspective we are normally hovering somewhere around 8. The page is updated frequently but has a little more of an eclectic mix than I originally expected. Yes, the author gives you a look into his life, which I can best describe as mundane. I don't know many porn publishers to compare with but I'd have to say he's probably the least exciting of them all. Normally discussing upcomming family plans or annoyances he faces when commuting its not the Hugh Hefner, glitz and glamor I was expecting, it pretty much reads like a middle class housewife's abandoned Xanga. Those boring diary posts are than followed by news. Actual articles, covering worlds affairs such as terrorist threats and domestic policy. Now if I want that I normally first consider The Guardian or CNN, but I guess a porn publisher run blog is a reasonable and trustworthy choice to be informing the public. After about 4 or 5 of these articles you come across Today's new adult galleries.

Today's read: Home Invasion 1- Housewife gets anal gang bang in her home by a black gangbang team. Oh and it also had this picture shown:

Boy, for a home invasion this 'housewife' sure appears eager. That's the problem with porn these days, just to unrealistic.

However if I am going to be anally gangbanged at least its by a gangbang team. Obviously these men are professionals and would have my best interests in mind during the home invasion. Other categories listed had these titles with descriptions included:

Bound and Pierced - black girl with pierced clit in chains
Anal Bead Bondage - female slave stimulated with vibrator
Blonde Head - pretty blonde with great tits give guy some head
Bar Stool Bondage - girl bound and gagged with nipples esposed
Blowjob Bazaar - collection of mostly interracial blow jobs

Ok...so apparently this particular publisher deals with bondage. And also loves using alliteration. Those gallery titles read like the lost fetish works of Dr. Seuss.

My Review: I can see why this site dominates. Stirring world opinions, introspective family life from a working man and brutal hardcore pornography. That's a winning mix. We don't stand a chance against such an opponent.

2. The Prudent Investor-Seeing too many bubbles
How in the fuck does this site stay in the top 50? Besides reading like my macroeconomics textbook it brings nothing to the table. As MillerTime already explained if you are looking for investing advice you get your ass to Mad Money with Jim Cramer. The author of this coma inducing drivel wouldn't last a second against that show. Although that's only because his head would be bitten off like the so many foam bulls that have been laid waste to by Cramer.

It's got the standard stock chart on the sidebar along with some pictures like these:

Wow producer price index graph! Holy shit, I just got an erection from that projected percentage growth!

This was the most colorful and exciting picture I found on the site, detailing retired investors. Makes me long for a home invasion anal gang bang.

The posts get plenty of comments and apparently the site is viewed as an actual market tool. I however, just think the site is run by an average tool. If he's such a successful investor why the hell does he have adds on the page that get him 50 cents for every 10,000 hits of online traffic? Though I bet he could draw up in a nifty chart how his site makes Horrible People his bitch in daily hits.

My Review: I'd rather gargle broken glass than read this blog. I can only assume it hooks desperate investors who think some fringe web page has the answers. Horrible People will have it's steel toed boot pressing down on the jugular of Prudent Investor any day now. And yes this site wears steel toed boots.

3. Shemale Blog- A transexuals sick sex life
Normally in the top 20 Overall, the biggest problem with this site is that it hasn't been updated since November 10th. How am I supposed to know what my favoirte tranny's are up to!? Run by 22 year old transexual Alexis she...or he...fuck I knew this would be a problem. "It" recounts activities of the week. Alexis normally starts innocent enough, apologizing for the lack of updates and mentioning whats been keeping her busy. Than the story degrades into the most depraved sex acts I've ever read or masterbated too. Just kidding, sort of...

Anyway I scrubbed my eyeballs with Ajax after visiting. I don't even want to think of the viruses I picked up from the site, which has a sidebar that links you to such places as Tranny Buttocks, Chicks have great Dicks, Sperm Suckers and Pissing Orgasmic Sex. What the Fuck.

My Review: This site features casual narrative style posts, videos and links. To bad all three of those features deal exclusively with shameless degenerate perverts performing ghastly acts on one another. Otherwise thumbs up from me and yes, I speak for everyone here at this site. Especially Hurricane who told me his need of trannys is only rivaled by his need for oxygen.

So there you have it. Just 3 of the blogs that handle there business and keep us on the bottom of the internet dogpile. What have I learned from this experience? That the web is filled with morally bankrupt individuals who I should detest instead of wishing to view my comedy. I've lost all faith in humanity and have never been more certain of the eventual Apocalypse that will wash this world clean of filth in a tidal wave of blood, churned from the dark hearts of the sinners that occupy it. And all because that investement site is so goddamned boring.

I can't even begin to imagine all the weirdos I've got reading the site now, since it will appear when searching for any of the awful content I've reviewed. Also don't forget to keep checking back and getting this blog to the top. That's more a threat than request. Still kidding, sort of...

Frequency Modulated

2005-12-22T16:09:00.000-05:00

We’ve been trying to reach out to you people. Honest, we have. The fact is that it’s tough. The Horrible People that we are, we simply cannot reach the audience we desire with only this web log. Which brings me to my good news: I am happy to announce that Horrible People will soon be on the radio at acrn.com starting the third week of January 2006 (release date/time TBA). Soon we will be not simply words on a page, but words in your FACE!

Too much?

Anyway, I don’t claim to be the liberating force of free thought, just a harbinger of dirty jokes, angry rants, and stupid material. Plus music. What’s a college radio show without music? Boring, that’s what.

Which brings me to this: I have a problem with people who consider themselves saviors of the First Amendment (I have made that abundantly clear in an earlier post), most of whom are shameless self promoters (totally different from us). However, in this case I am talking about someone who really did have an impact on free speech in this country, the King of all Media (and King of Shameless Self Promotion), Howard Stern.

First off, let it be known that I don’t like The Howard Stern Show all that much. It’s kinda funny, but that’s it. It’s better than most of the other drec you’re likely to find on the radio at 7am, but being the most popular morning radio personality is like being the best player on the Kansas City Royals, or the least alcoholic of the Osbournes. The show ‘has its moments,’ enough said. But I admire him. There is no denying, however, the effect he had on the way things are said in this country. His fights with the FCC and Clear Channel are now the stuff of legend and lead to many changes in the way we use language in this country.

But before I unofficially canonize Stern, let us really look at what he was fighting for: Vulgar language, explicit content, vile and childish behavior on publicly owned airwaves. Let’s be honest here, not exactly the poster child for greatest American (though I know folks who would argue both sides of that argument).

So Howard Stern doesn’t have a daily talk show on traditional radio anymore. So what? It’s not like he’s gone straight to the unemployment line. Sirius satellite radio gave him a bazillion-dollar contract to be exclusively on their system. Not only that, but I believe he has his own channel. His own Channel! Don’t cry for Howard, he’ll live. And for those of you who wish to shell out the dough to buy the receiver to hear Stern’s voice, then more power to you. I’m sure the dick jokes and the comments about the cellulite and stretch marks on hopeful Scores girls are all the more clear in satellite form.

But really people, why buy the Siruis cow when you can get the Horrible People milk for free?

(shameless self promotion. remember, it's for your own good.)

SNL Does Something Funny

2005-12-18T23:49:00.000-05:00

I know, it's absolutely shocking. Saturday Night Live has been a comedy wasteland for about the last 10 years. It is now almost completely irrelevant as skits only cover celebrity gossip or beat a recurring character to death. I felt the show hit an all time low when stand-up Dane Cook hosted last week. I knew it was going to most likely be the loudest 90 minutes in television history but I wanted to watch seeing as a comedian, especially one who is relatively unknown by the mainstream (although wildly popular with almost everyone in college), actually got the chance to host. It was dismal from the start. Dane did a stand-up routine that was his normal shtick, say things loud and use a lot of wacky body movements, which he wrapped up with a story on how he shot a cashew off his erection and into his mouth. Groundbreaking stuff. I used to find Dane pretty funny until I realized he's devoid of punchlines and never leaves safe, easy material. The show had a lot of one joke, dead end sketches which I lost interest in immediately. A pretty big waste.

However I have now seen signs of life in SNL once again. Yesterday Jack Black hosted where he was promoting King Kong. I've always been a fan and decided to watch his openning in which he had an original song about his movie that was funny but expected from half of Tenacious D. Nothing amazing, so with that I had remote in hand. When suddenly I saw something I hadn't witnessed at that hour on that channel for quite some time. Hilarious comedy.

Chris Parnell and Andy Samberg, who is a new cast member and most notably as one of the trio from The Lonely Island, had a digital short film titled 'Lazy Sunday'. It features Andy and Chris setting up plans to see the Chronicles of Narnia set to a hardcore rap song. I've now read that the decision to run the short wasn't made until about a half hour prior to the shows' airing but even Lorne Michaels, who has apparently grown numb to funny, allowed it to play. And it was the best desicision he could have made. Hopefully now he'll trust Jorma and Akiva, who write for the show, and Andy who acts, to create more brilliant work like you can see at TheLonelyIsland.com, which features there pilot for Awesometown and other shorts.

And if you want to see the video you can check it out here.

With the wide spread attention the video has gotten on the internet it will earn the Dudes a little more trust when management is deciding what sketches to use. And maybe, just maybe, quality comedy can return to SNL consistently once again.

Fall Into The Gap (And Flat On Your Face)

2005-12-16T22:26:00.000-05:00

Gap Inc. Direct Management,

I formally resign from my position at The Gap Incorporated Direct on this date, December 16th, 2005. I have enjoyed my work experience with The Gap.

Best wishes and Happy Holidays.

Sincerely,

Reuben Bresler

As many Ohio University students do during the six week winter break afforded to us by the powers that be (yea, OU’s sweet), I got me one o’ them ‘seasonal’ jobs. The job I ended up getting was at the Gap Inc. Direct Warehouse in Obetz, Ohio, and is just as tedious and boring as it sounds. My buddy Nigel and I went into the group interview session pretty nervous. I mean, they had us fill out like 20 different forms. Once we were in the interview session though we knew this wasn’t a really choosy company. This group interview was for the people called back (as in the ones they chose to interview after the application process) and these folks were dumb. Like Forrest Gump dumb. My leftovers from dinner could probably beat most of them at checkers.

And they were sketchy, too. One of the guys at the interview regularly wore his red hair in a mohawk and wore Mushroomhead t-shirts. Many didn’t speak English very well, and that wasn’t just the large immigrant population of the plant (if you catch my drift). Many a homie wore clothes with Scarface and Godfather images. Plain white t-shirts down to the knees, Timberlands, say things like ‘Yo yo! Souf Sieeeede!*’ Etc. Most of you know the type. Other commonplace items at this cesspool included lots of the ‘ample’ black women who wore Apple Bottoms logos proudly or pink velour pants to accentuate their massive backsides. The managerial staff, easily located because they all wore the red Gap polos to show their authority (because nothing screams respect like a $9 cotton-blend T made in the United Arab Emirates), sauntered through the aisles like they owned the place. You get the idea.

*For those of you who don’t step outside except for the occasional Emo concert and read these blogs like it’s your life’s blood, that’s black-ese for south side, you dumb white mother fuckers.

On a side note, do you guys remember when what we now call ‘ghetto booty’ was just a ‘fat ass?’ When did that happen?

Anyway, let’s discuss another of our co-workers. Let’s call him Dave (since that’s his name). He looks like Paul Wall. We ate lunch with Dave and took coffee breaks with him, too. Nice guy. Scary as fuck. Know who he knows personally? The leader of the F and L Gang here in Columbus. That’s as in the 4th and Livingston Bloods. Know those shootings in south Columbus? Yea, that’s them. Scary as hell. He hangs out with him.

That’s not all, oh no. One day he told Nigel and me how to make homemade LSD/Acid. Chew up a piece of gum until all the flavor is out of it, then take an orange peel and put the gum in it, zip the peel in a Ziploc and put it on the roof for 5 days. Then take out the gum and chew it. As Dave says, ‘It’ll get you fucked up.’

Among the things I’ve learned from Dave: What an ‘8-ball’ is (3.5g of Coke), how much Coke costs ($50/g), how to snort Marijuana, how to make crack (which I forgot how), tips on drive-by shootings (be steady, be confidant, etc.), how much to ask for from a ‘chop shop’ for the car you stole (about $5000/car, depending on the make/model), how to give yourself a tattoo (with a guitar string, a bottle of Jack, and a lot of paper towels), and many other useful tips I would use in my everyday life if I weren’t planning on living through the next year. By the way, he’s 21. Yea. He’s got 3 kids and his wife is expecting today. Literally, today. Man, he’s ridiculous. But he was a cool guy. Pretty relaxed for a guy with ties to the Bloods and a wife with 3 kids.

By the way, he has no filter mechanism between his mouth and his brain. Like a dog’s brain and his tail has no filter, that’s him. No passive-aggressive bullshit, no holding back for feeling’s sake. At least I know what I’m saying before I say it; I typically just say it anyway. Not Dave. Here’s a taste:

He was talking to this gang leader that I alluded to earlier and asked him how much he makes a day. “About 15 grand on a bad day,” he replied. “No shit? Lemme see.” So this guy gets up, goes to his bedroom, pulls out a size 13 shoebox and opens it up to Dave. Nothing but rubber banded 20s, 50s, and 100s. Dave, after a moment of stunned silence, says the following, and I am not shitting you, he says this to not just a gang member, but the leader of a seriously violent gang:

“Man, if you weren’t my dude I’d try to rob you.”

Let that soak in for a moment.

Okay, now that you’ve recovered, I will continue. The guy says, “I can’t believe you just said that,” (which, strangely enough, was my response too). I’m surprised he’s still alive.

It was nice for a while. 30% off Banana Republic and Gap, 20% off at Old Navy employee discount. Pack boxes and bags with these ‘slouchy’ boots, ‘Henley’ shirts, and ‘tankinis.’ But 10 hours a day, 6am-4pm, Monday through Saturday gets annoying. To divert from the tedium I started taking longer breaks. Much longer breaks.

Yea, I quit that job today. I turned in that letter at the top to the front desk. I was getting fired today anyway though, I know this because my manager was looking for me, and she’s never done that before. They usually just let us run amok and do random jobs. I guess they don’t like it when you take hour and a half breaks when you should be taking twenties so I beat ‘em to the punch. I did enjoy it though, good experience.

I am never going back there again.

But I did keep my discount card. Guess what my family’s getting for Christmas.

Tales from the Bell. Chapter 1: I smell trash...white trash

2005-12-16T21:14:00.001-05:00

All right, something that doesn’t have anything to do with puns.

So to get the back story out of the way, let’s clear up the fact I have worked at a Taco Bell near my home town for the past six years every summer and during winter breaks from school. How anyone could possibly deal with the stupidity or even comprehend the amount of it I witness everyday, they’d probably kill themselves via consuming garage insulation like my puppy occasionally does.

For as long as I feel, I will be posting on some of the most absolutely deplorable situations and disasters I’ve had to deal with by working in fast food for way too long.

Now, hold your nose because I am about to pull you into a tale so rank from white trash it’d bust the hobo-meter (instrument for measuring stench in units of one hobo on up to 100).

Here is the situation. As I worked the drive-thru one day a car pulled up to the speaker. This is what I heard: A car door opens and the constant beeping sound begins as the sound of “Honky-tonk-ba-donka-donk” (sic) blares out as the car opens. Screaming hyenas interrupt the “music” and almost deafens me (turns out they were crack babies – I mean children). A wheezing woman’s voice struggles through her order, “Gimme three chili-cheese burritos with sour cream, two soft tacos with just meat and cheese only, an order of nachos, threes waters and a large Mountain Dew.” I tell her total, which is around 8.25.

Now who do you think is going to appear at the window? Will it be the well dressed, fully nourished family of four cruising in for a snack before heading to the mall for some Christmas shopping or the most hideous excuse for humans beings that crawled out from under whatever trailer their half-brother’s cousin’s twice removed mother’s niece owns half of?

Now while this is a simple answer for a man who has been dealing with the scum of the Earth for a majority of his life like me, others might not see through the haze of smoke funneling out of the car’s cracked window from multiple Black and Milds.

Here is what I deduced in the short time it took the vehicle to get to the window, which I was able to confirm immediately.

A repulsive beached whale stuck behind the steering wheel of a rusted out Green automobile that looked as if she had somehow had multiple cases of Melanoma and had approximately seven chins appeared. She was swinging at her children with looked to be a snow/ice scraper while chewing them out about crying and complaining too much. I don’t know what their problem was either, it was 20 degrees out their car had obviously no heat, the windows were down to let some of the smoke of their mother’s cigarette filter out and they had nothing but flannel shirts on over their assumed sweat pants.

She (by the divine intervention of God) turned the music down to a considerably volume and began sorting out change from her multiple ash trays and cup holders. After over a minute of searching she handed me over eight dollars in change. She quickly got back to scolding her children. In the front passenger sat a case of Old Milwaukee, no joke. At this point I quickly closed the drive-thru window because the car’s exhaust was quickly turning terminal. I gave her the drinks she wanted and then got her bag of food and began to hand it to her as she asked for “lots of mild sauce.” I complied and handed it out as fast as possible. She hit the gas to attempt to exit the drive-thru and the car sputtered, after stalling out and exuding enough fumes to destroy the remaining patches in the Ozone layer she got the car out of the lane and went on her business.

So how did I know all this was an everyday occurrence of piss-poor, inbred, alcoholic white trash? Let me explain.

First off, the beeping from the inside of the car as the door opened was a dead give away. It was obvious that the owners of the car treated their belongings like shit and somehow demolished the window mechanism.

Second, the music. No one with any dignity listens to country, let alone the abortion of a song that “Honky-tonk-ba-donka-donk” is. Also, the music was blaring, mainly to overpower the sound of the wind as it whipped through the cars open windows and to drown out the children’s crying.

Next, the filthy spawn of this blimp in the driver’s seat. Most parents can control their children for a matter of seconds as they order food at local food joint. If the kids can’t be quieted and or are crying this bad it is a case of physical, emotional and all other types of abuse I can’t even begin to list or know of.

Now, the order. Only, and I mean, only, white trash (and the occasional fat person) orders chili-cheese burritos, the sour cream was just the kicker. Then, phrasing the tacos as “just meat and cheese only.” Uneducated people continuously make the mistake of redundancy when ordering food through a drive-thru, but the “just meat and cheese only” is by far the most widely used phrase I’ve heard. Then the waters and of course, the nectar of the 'tards, Mountain Dew.

So there, now you all have learned some of the tricks of the trade that is dealing with the most whitest of trash. Now that you really needed it, but I don’t know how to end this chapter other than by praying that Rumpke picks up that entire family on its next run.

Master Debater

2005-12-15T14:37:00.000-05:00

I used one pun for the title and I already feel dirty. No matter how awful it is this pun is appropriate since this is in response to the painful, pun filled post written by Hurricane. In case there is some doubt let me sum it all up...

Puns are the lowest form of comedy.

No question about it. Fart jokes and slapstick are viewed as Shakespearean poetry when compared to puns. If bad comedy were AIDS than puns would be its lesions. There is a reason why adults groan when they hear puns and it's because anyone over the age of 4 is tired of them. Some words sound like other words, that's all there is to it. We are all forced to suffer because some people are unable to be bored with homonyms. Although a simple concept, puns can take on many insidious forms, all of which are cringe worthy.

Here is an example "Being in politics is just like playing golf, you are trapped in one bad lie after another." Here the pun is on the two different meanings of the word lie. Now these types of puns are very common and although not horribly offensive comedically, they are still unfunny.

Some are based off of spelling instead of sound. "What kind of instrument do fish love to play? A bass guitar!" Besides not making much sense because the word bass is pronounced differently when reffering to a fish or instrument, it is just an awful joke. But if I heard a third grader telling this joke I'd probably be able to resist crushing his skull with a cinder block. Older than that and restraint is not easily found.

Double-sound is a term used to describe puns where words that are similar but not identical are intentionally confused. This is where it starts getting real ugly. "What do you call an inverse chicken? Poultry!" The joke here is "poultry" sounds like "poetry" which fits since "inverse" is a play on the two words "in verse" which is where you find poetry. Not only stupid but it requires an explanation that you never asked for. Most people would rather have their hand slammed in a car door than sit through an explanation of a terrible pun.

Even worse still are puns off of common expressions or the extended pun, where several puns are crammed into a short story. I'm not placing those in my post since I feel I'll become less funny by association. Puns are not used by the most respected comedians. In fact I tried searching for any comedians that deal almost exclusively in puns and I don't think there has been an entertainer who has done so since the great depression. And they only got away with it since their audience were financially crippled and had already sold their kids into slavery so they could eat and were looking for anything to laugh at. Such a sad situation is the only excuse for a person to laugh at a pun. The closest thing I found to a comedian who deals in puns is the hilarious juggernaut Rosie O'Donnell.

Kids are Punny, the book composed by Rosie during her time with that ghastly talk show. This is the best example I found of a performer relying on puns. As we all know Rosie hasn't made anything funny in the last 20 years, not counting Riding the Bus with My Sister which was hysterical but apparently was mislabeled as a Drama. Rosie wasn't playing the part of Bus as you'd guess, but Beth Simon a mentally handicapped woman that just can't cope to a mentally capable world. Laugh riot, I suggest you get it on DVD.

Even as terrible a comedian as Rosie is, if she can even be called that, she still made this book for kids with submissions by kids. This book of puns was never even meant for adult eyes. Maybe Susie Homemaker would thumb through it or read it to her children after soccer practice but even she would have to wash down a bottle of her child's ritalin with vodka to remove the memory of what she's done.

Puns are just that bad, plain and simple. I hope I could sway enough to the side of good. I believe Hurricane has some dark and evil motives behind his pun love, I've just yet to uncover them. Also do you know why he made eleven puns in his last post? The eleventh pun always gets a laugh, even if no pun in ten did.

I have to go shower and scrub myself like a rape victim now.

Cunning Linguists

2005-12-14T21:22:00.000-05:00

As a comedian I take a lot guff (guff, I say!) from some of the other stand ups I know and am friends with. Oh, I dish out more than my share of sharp tongued quips too, but one of the areas I take the most guff is a topic hotly contested in the comedy community.

The subject of puns.

I am pro-pun, ever since the Roe-Salmon Supreme Court decision (pun count: 1). Many comedians, including one horrible person named Jay Runner, say that puns are not funny. That they are the lowest form of comedy. That every time a pun is made an angel gets AIDS. I disagree. I love puns.

My theory is that my Jewish roots led me to my appreciation of puns. Jews are God’s chosen people (or at least that’s what we tell ourselves), and everyone knows that God loves puns. Don’t’ look at me like that, I have documentation. For example, all of the championships leads me to believe that God’s a Yankees fan, so he began the Old Testament like any other baseball fan starts a big story: In the big inning… (pun count: 2).

An appreciation of puns is necessary in life. Normally no one would find certain news stories funny, but the story I heard recently about the electrician, once charged with battery (pun count: 3), died before being recharged (4). Reactions were both positive and negative (5).

Many people think puns are for the average folk, but think they’re just being mean (6). A pun is often considered obvious humor, since the person relating it is merely balancing the humor in it on a twist of a word's meaning or sound. Children love this type of obvious humor and can laugh at it without rapprochements. Adults on the other hand are more likely to have a twinge of envy, and ‘why didn't I think of that?’ It is this envy in adults that subconsciously causes them to groan upon hearing a pun. As time goes on, it can only be hoped that we adults will eventually learn to react more like a child and less like a groan-up (pun count: 7).

So Reuben, how can I be as flippin’ sweet as you are with puns? Well, I wouldn’t call my self the greatest, but I am pretty punny (pun count: 8). Here are the recommended ingredients: Quick setup, or pun-ctuality (9) is very important. Typically, proper names should not be used because the listener might not recognize the name, though if you have a name specifically designed for pun usage (like… Reuben) then feel free. But these are only in certain cases, so familiar references should usually be the sources of the humor to reach their full pun-tential (pun count: still 9, that one was kinda weak). Lastly, you should see the spark in the listeners' eyes as they ‘get it.’

I hope you found this enlightening. I will see you folks later. I have a Buddhist friend who just moved here and I’m helping him find a new dentist that will let him not take the pain killers. He’s trying to transcend dental medication (10).

(Also, the title of this blog entry is a pun too. Think about it for a moment, then turn the pun count up to 11. Oh yea, that’s was awesome.)

In Memory of Richard Pryor

2005-12-11T23:43:00.000-05:00

Yesterday one of the greatest stand-up comedians of all time passed away. Richard Pryor, whose talent and ability is an inspiration to all aspiring comedians, died of a heart attack at age 65. I can still remember the first time I saw one of his specials, against my parents wishes which made it even cooler. I think back to how Pryor would strut back and forth on stage and speak in such a plain and confidant way that demanded attention. I also remember laughing so hard I was nearly in tears. I still listen to his routines and am in awe of how brilliant and grounbreaking he was. I speak for everyone here at Horrible People by saying Richard will be greatly missed.

Holiday gift ideas, the ones that don't suck

2005-12-07T14:44:00.000-05:00

I sincerely hope that my last post gave those would be awful gift buyers a chance to think out their purchases and leave the terrible products on the shelves. However, the astute reader will realize they now only know what not to buy. Sure, that's half the battle but they are left with nothing, no bad gifts and no good ones either. Since I love my audience and there's nothing better to do when under house arrest I have decided to compile a list of breathtaking proportions. Below are the most stupendous gifts to get your friends this year. And by friends I mean people that aren't suited for the presents in any way, so in turn you can have the gift. Hell, these things aren't cheap and you should enjoy them. Cool gifts COMMINATCHA!!!

The Nuclear Globe:

This makes me hate every gift my parents ever got me. Mostly because every gift was either Altoids or self-help books but still this Nuclear Globe is bad ass. Sportsstuff.com had a bunch or awesome things to help make your day out with your family, in your speed boat, on your private lake more enjoyable. I chose this since it doesn't require rich relatives to have a great time. Just find water, hop in and run like a hamster on meth. If you're lucky enough to have two globes and I guess a friend, although I've never seen the need for friendship until now, you both can have fun doing bumper battles. They show pictures of it on the water and on sand however they really were limiting the useage. I'd never leave the safety of my inflatable multi colored womb. I'd just roam the campus of OU through the safety and multicolored distortion that this toy brings. And nothing could stop me! Except for broken bottles, steep inclines, windy days, sharp edges, muddy ground or small doorways.

Who to buy for: Now remember this gift is awesome and you deserve it. It's best to pick out any friends who are long time smokers, the type already showing signs of emphysema or possibly any family member over eighty. Just someone who'd give up or pass out halfway through inflating the thing. After that use the pump it comes with to fill it up and roll away from your unconscious loved one.

Kenguru, the hot wheels for cripples:

Once I saw this vehicle for the handicapped I began drilling a dull steak knife into my spinal column. Than of course I realized that you dont have to be handicapped to use it, you just need to steal a wheelchair. That information would have come in handy back when I wasn't paralyzed on the left side of my body from a freak steak knife accident. Paralysis or not this is still one sweet ride for all my disabled friends out there. Finally, concrete proof that God truly never closes a door without opening a window. Assuming of course that you fell out that window and landed awkwardly on your neck so now you are confined to a wheelchair. This car almost makes it all seem worth it though. Legs shmegs, you're riding in style.

Who to buy for: Cripples already get all the attention so they don't really need a cool car to add to it. You want to give this car to either extreme, the jock who beats up the impaired because they show off by still functioning in a society that is designed for the capable or a completely imobilized memeber of society. The type that have to blow air into that little tube to move around. Make sure you stay cool with him after he passes on your gift though because he can really help by blowing up that Nuclear Globe for you since he gets to practice all day.

Feel Seating System

That's pretty much the coolest furniture I have ever seen in my life. This is a bed/chair/futon/molecular sofa. It's called Feel and is made by design company Animi Causa where a bunch of other awesome products can be found that I can't afford. This here is the cream of the crop though. Made of 120 soft spheres covered in an elastic fabric the structure can be rearranged to whatever you want. I'm just gonna cut to the chase and say that I have to fuck on that thing. I don't just want to, I have to. Furniture that versatile should come with a copy of the Kama Sutra. Not to mention it would look kickass anywhere. In my living room, my crappy dorm lounge or a disease ridden crack house scheduled for demolition. It pretty much makes whatever surrounds it the place to be. Although the residents of the crack house pretty much already consider it the place to be, at least now theyd have something comfy to do blow on.

Who to buy for: This is a toughy since this gift kicks so much ass. If you have a friend with a overwhelming fear of science and DNA models I'd say that's your first choice. If worse comes to worse you may be forced to kill the person you give this too if they decide to keep it. It's worth the sacrifice, spill blood for your new lord the Feel and dream murderous dreams while enveloped in its warmth. The Feel commands it, don't deny your God.

The Coolest of the Cool: Downs Dolls

Ok, yes, I know. I had this as one of the worst gifts you could possibly give to anyone. A doll with downs syndrome does sound odd and at first like a sick joke but I got to thinking, how much of my time do I spend laughing at the mentally handicapped and end up feeling nothing but guilt and shame. And also fatigue from laughing so damn hard. Well these little scamps offer the perfect solution because they're dolls. You now have the option of laughing yourself horse in the comfort and privacy of your own home. And the best part is you can still feel like you are a part of humanity. It's a win win situation really. Featured above is Christina and Mikael. I couldn't help but notice that Christina looks exactly like Thomas with brown hair and a tan. Mikael is from Eastern Europe and he says 'reading books is my enjoyment' because apparently proper grammar is not. Just be glad I didn't recommend the Chemo Friends and no, I am not making those up either.

Who to buy for: Just get one yourself you twisted fuck. Life's to short to not be laughing at the less fortunate.

A Final Tip:
No matter what you get for your family, friends and collegues this year you want to make sure they know how special you really think they are. These are the people that make your life worth living and you want to make sure the feeling is mutual. Here at Horrible People we have the perfect suggestion because even if the gift sucks they won't notice with...

The inventor of this product, who can only be the military sponsored genetic hybrid of Albert Einstein and Stephen Hawking, deserves a medal. Classy blue pin stripes on the outside and scantily clad ladies inside. Giving your crappy gifts that extra something. That something being gratuitous nudity. Mmm mmm, spread that holiday cheer.

Holiday gift ideas, the horrible way

2005-12-06T01:36:00.000-05:00

Commercialism is now the foundation that the holiday season is built upon. This is because the original roots explaining why Christmas and Channuka were started is shrouded in mystery with millions left only to guess at their beginnings. And let's not forget about Kwanza, then again how can you forget about something you don't even consider in the first place? Whatever the terrifying or brutal mythology that birthed these insane celebrations no longer matters in the borders of the U.S.A., because capitalism has diluted the entire culture. Advertisers don't want a whole lotta beliefs and religion getting in the way because some people may get offended. And unhappy consumers don't buy shit, they just complain.

But enough with the history lesson, this is stuff they teach in grade school. Just wanted to make sure everyone is on the same page so the topic is understood. That topic being the dangers of buying the most horrible gifts imaginable. I don't think highly of the common populous. There could be readers out there this moment with every muscle soaked in egg nog and I am not trusting them with the clear judgement to reject a terrible present when they see it. I'm gonna break these down into simple categories with examples that best represent the awful and dangerous nature of those gifts. Let's get this party started.

Cool for the Kids; Cooler for Adults:
This is a dangerous trap where mostly parents of younger children fall prey. This is seen with gifts like an etch-a-sketch or socks, no clean up for adults and no fun for anybody. However, this warning is mostly for the kids to look out for because parents still buy these 'toys' since they benefit them and not their dependents. Since I know we have a huge 6-12 aged demographic reading this sit, thanks to all the e-mails Miller Time sends out soliciting, uh I mean, befriending youngsters, they need to listen up and exercise some grown-up awareness. What those kids need to ask themselves in this situation is "does this cool gift from my parents actually have a sinister plot behind it?". For the spastic, A.D.D. riddled youth I have an example with colorful pictures to hold their attention.

This is the IonKids tracking device from Bluespan. Except kids aren't told it's a tracking device, they are told its a 'way ultra-hip fun wristband'. What they dont know is if they wander to far the wrist tag will send the base unit an alert signal and then give directions leading to the child. Suddenly all your independent childhood experiences are gone. No running off with friends to play kickball, no hiding out in women's changing rooms peeking under stalls and no time with the super cool hairy neighbor that offers you candy and van rides. Parental paranoia equas zero fun for our nations tikes. If you receive this as a gift its best to wrap it around a hobos ankle and tell him you heard of a free liqour give away at the shelter across town. This device was so close to being cool too, if only it released a seizure inducing electrical shock when a child strolled off instead of a warning beep.

Add to the Cool:
Some companies just can't compete when trying to emulate the coolest gadgets and playthings. But how are they gonna make a dime off the latest trends if they don't feel like working at creating a superior product? Simple, make a shitty and useless accessory and push it on the public as the new 'it' item. Companies that design covers for cell phones and Ipods are the most prevalently seen, but I think with Old-Man Winter it wont be long before we're all warming up to this fun little gift.

It's the Iparka! The fun way to dress up your Ipod shuffle for the cold months. And I wonder if it comes with mini bags of crack rocks to deal out of these thug coats. Maybe my shuffle can get into a knife fight with a rival gang member or perhaps be seen in the background of a Mike Jones video. Or maybe I just wont shell out 60 dollars plus to play dress up with a fucking mp3 player. How bad must it feel working in a sweat shop for 3 cents an hour knowing that your growing arthritis and disdain for living is direcly caused by sewing the outerwear for yuppie dot commer's music players. I bet its not swell. Not swell at all.

Wacky, Cute and Fun:
Normally its stupid, creepy or unoriginal. You want a pet rock or more magic-eye calendars? Hell no, because they don't bleed awesome. Marketing for these cheap toys usually falls under the fad department. Its the latest greatest thing that everyone is getting. Furbies, Tickle me Elmo and Cabbage Patch kids are the leading contenders in this parade of awful toys that had the longevity of an American Idols career. I came across the hot, new and undeniably disturbing treat that's selling out in Sweden and soon to make headlines here. Pee and Poo!

Christ almighty, I wish I was making this up. Out of the toilet and into your child's arms and heart, these adorable plush toys of urine and feces will become a part of the family. These charmming and completely tasetful creatures just scream cute and your loved ones will find them irreverent and amusing. This is of course assuming your family is completely comfortable with human waste being looked at as not only a normality but something to be loved. Imagine your son, with his G.I. Joes and transformers having to face his giant yellow monster that is washing over. Or perhaps your baby girl, snuggling up with her mound of shit, holding it close to her chest as she lays down for bed and ever so gently places a soft kiss on the brown pile. I just threw up a little on my shirt. I hope we show a little more restraint then those monstrous Swedes but if you've ever watched some eastern european porn, and dont act like you haven't, you know they are quite comfortable with bodily feculence*.

Simply Awful:
Just the most ill-advised and least thought out gift imaginable. Think wool sweater with hot pink reindeer or maybe a Blue Collar TV DVD. Any gift that literally makes you love the person who gave it to you a little less. Something that makes the joy from your face slowly dissipate upon completion of tearing off the wrapping paper. Gifts that just make you question why you bother getting out of bed at all. There's only one gift I thought of for this case.

Its a doll with downs syndrome. Yep. No joke here. Because it is hilarious on its own. From Downsyndromedolls.com these 'wonderfully unique' dolls tug at our heart strings and let's face facts, tickle our funny bone. I owned a 'My Buddy' doll as a kid and took him on bike rides and to tea parties. Dont judge me, me and Buddy were looking for pussy at those sissy get togethers. Now if I opened up a doll with special needs on Christmas morning I don't know if i could handle it. Are parents trying to give their kids some confidence by giving them a friend that they'll never feel inadequate too? Or are these dolls meant for those special children who need to be reminded of their disability by giving them a facsimile, right down to the sloping forehead and tongue lolling out. The site says this little guy's name is Thomas, 'let's meet in the park and ride bikes' he tells me on his page. I'd love to Thomas, but I'm afraid my parents don't allow the handicapped to go racing around on two wheels because they have extremely poor motor control. I also don't really feel the need to spend my Sunday afternoon cleaning the scrapes off a mental deffecient. Thats when the Browns are on CBS losing, I am afraid you'll have to be tied up to the water heater in the basement when the game is on.

So those were the bad and the ugly of holiday gifts. If you'd like to purchase any of these items they are all available online and you are obviously a complete moron who missed the point. Maybe you can buy a downs doll for yourself and accompany him with Poo and Pee as well as dressing up his hand with an Iparka and put kiddy tracking devices on everything. Better yet just wait for my next look at kick ass gifts to buy for people you know they'll be wrong for so you can use them yourself. Please enjoy the holidays.

*Horrible People 10 point Dare: Use the word feculence at your next dinner party! Don't let us down, and remember the reader with the most points at the end of the year wins!

If I Were...A Fetus

2005-12-02T17:40:00.000-05:00

I would be a developing organism exsisting after the embryonic stage but have yet to reach birth. My lungs would not be in use and I would gain oxygen and nutrients from my mother through the placenta and umbilical cord. Id float within my mother's womb as the majority of structures began to form and grow.

I would not, I repeat, I would not have the ability to comprehend or speak english, have access to any man made items or lecture to an audience. If I were a fetus I would basically be the opposite of Umbert the Unborn, a pro-life comic strip that has about as much science fact in it as a Looney Toons episode. Hey, lets take a gander.

If I were a fetus I would not have access to a phone that appears out of the walls of the uterus nor have the ability to make a shitty pun. Id also be unaware to anything being said since my ears would be undeveloped and surrounded by amniotic fluid. Not that it matters since I am incapable of thought. I wonder if Umbert also knows his mother is washing down that peanut butter and tuna with the cheapest malt liquor she could find? I guess he isn't that smart.

If I were a fetus I would not have a cute sense of irony equating people's feelings of abortion to the thought of clubbing seals. I would not have expressive eyebrows and surprisingly enough would be completely unable to play dress up as a baby harp seal after receiving the costume in a box which I can only assume was forcibly shoved up my mother's cooch by UPS.

If I were a fetus I wouldn't be anything like Umbert, a painfully awful comic presented by Catholic.net. It's nice to see Umbert's obviously adorable white Anglo-Saxon appearence and wacky adventures, where he is aware of everything around him except for the fact he's already been brainwashed and become a mouth peice for religious conservatives and will be forced to attend a church that has been marked with rampant child molestation, with many cases still remaining unresolved. You may know a lot for a fetus Umbert but its nothing compared to what you are going to learn.

(As a Horrible People exclusive we have received the latest and final Umbert the Unborn comic from the creator Gary Cangemi. He tells us this is a rough, semi-colored version since its just been inked but he couldn't wait to share the finale of his classic prenatal character. Check out the Horrible Umbert Strip!)

Beat The Draught

2005-12-01T21:41:00.000-05:00

Yes it is, picture I found on the internet.

As a student at Ohio University I have learned many things, most of which pertaining to the subject of alcohol. Liquor before beer, never fear; beer before liquor, vomit quicker. Beer pong is a game of agility, whereas flip cup is a game of the mind. Beer + Weed = 'The Spins' (unless you do it the right way, then it’s totally sweet). But this past quarter, I found myself staring down a strange reality:

I hadn't gotten drunk the whole quarter.

True, this wouldn't be that odd of an occurrence had I gone to, say, Muskingum or Capital. But I go to Ohio University, #2 in the nation according to the Princeton Review of party schools, and most students say that they won't stop 'til we're #1 (so watch your backs, Wisconsin). I had gone to parties on occasion, I had attended the infamous Halloween celebrations, but nay, I hadn't been drunk.

Let me clarify that previous statement; I had gotten drunk enough to be not legally able to drive many times over the course of the quarter, but at O.U. that is not enough to be drunk. We prefer to be so drunk that a simple staircase is the equivalent of The Crag from the classic Nickelodeon show 'Guts.' The English language ceases to be a communication tool, as the mouth no longer acts as a means for imbibing food for survival and transforms into a vessel used solely for alcoholic fluids, Hungry Howie's, and male genitalia.

[Side note: 'Guts' and the show that came on right after it 'Legends of the Hidden Temple' were both awesome. If you haven’t seen them you missed some of the coolest television programming in history. Therefore, in remembrance of my homies, I am going to pour out a little bit of this bottle of alcohol in memoriam. Stay strong.]

So anyway, I was surprised that I had not gotten all that drunk. Sure, I was busy with school and I played a lot of poker, plus I spent a lot of time with comedy, but could that be all? Mostly I was just drinking to get a little bit buzzed and then stop. Then I remembered... Of course! It's so obvious now! The anti-drinking commercials O.U. made to combat the rampant drinking on campus!

For those of you not in the know, the university started their 'Stop at the Buzz' campaign over a year ago. They held a contest for students to create an anti-drinking commercial with the winner receiving $500, or enough money to be drunk for about 8-9 days. I can only imagine the incredibly poor quality of the losing videos of this contest, because the winning ones were just awful. Anyway, I thought about making one, but in the end I decided it was much more important to watch the last few minutes of whatever show I was watching. I obviously have a much higher appreciation for the commercials now, as they have stopped me from soiling my body with undue portions of beer and liquor. It is with this newfound respect for the art of university-sanctioned anti-drinking student-made commercial that I present my idea for a new one. It is entitled 'Beat the Draught.'

It starts out with a black screen with the words, 'Sometime in the Near Future...' With the voice over person saying the same thing as what is on the screen. Then, it fades to a video of President Bush saying, "Today, I have passed a Congress approved resolution to reinstate the Draught." This is followed by shots of a line of enlistees getting their uniforms, which are green camo, and their implements, which include a beer bong and a stack of plain red Dixie cups. After a few moments scanning the line from different angles we see a man sneaking away from the line, followed quickly by the military police hot on his tail. A chase ensues, and he hides in a back alley as the police pass. Then a man in a white van pulls up next to him. "Want to get out of this place?" "Yes!" He replies, and he hops into the back of the van that already has a few other people in it. The last scene follows the van for a few seconds and stops to pan over to a street sign that reads 'To Canada' with the voice over saying, "Remember, don’t let them pressure you. You can… Beat the Draught," and the words 'Beat the Draught' pop up on the screen.

Of course Bush probably won’t be that pleased should he see the commercial but he could never stop at the buzz anyway.

Here's a gigantic big time bad ass booyah to all my horrible people out there!

2005-11-30T20:05:00.000-05:00

Ladies and gentlemen, I have found the new “Cops.” Okay, well, no show is better in the jaw-dropping-awful-train wreck department than the show Cops, but I have found the heir to the proverbial thrown. Mad Money. Ah yes, soak it in. This show and its host, Jim Cramer, have taken day trading and the stock market to record-high interest levels.

Now, before I get ahead of myself here, let me give you the run down of one of the best shows on television to watch…three times a day. Yes, it’s aired thrice times a day (check your TV guide for viewing times.)

Mad Money is the only show worth tuning in for on CNBC simply because of its ridiculousness. Cramer, possibly the most eight-ball driven host in America, simply grabs you by the throat at the top of the hour and doesn’t let go of his stranglehold until he has forced every nugget of information he has on Wall Street down your throat. I had no idea about stocks and anything to do with day trading, but now, after watching hours of Mad Money, I can recall with the simplest of ease the top stocks to buy (Mrrrrrrrrrrrrr) and sell (cha-ching!)

Sure, this guy might as well be a certified lunatic, but will earn your respect by the end of his most notable section of the show “THE LIGHTNING ROUND.” This is the part of the show where Cramer comes back from the break after doing a pound of blow off his desk and answers questions at amazing speed about useless stocks and deals out the only information you really need to know about Wall Street. And what makes the show top the charts is how ungodly into it is this man.

Someone once told me sell what you know (wait, that was what Tracy Morgan said on his SNL skit selling Uncle Jemima’s Pure mash Liquor… and he knew booze, let me tell you). Well, Cramer knows stocks and he knows how to connect with a crowd. Whether it is throwing his wheeled-desk chair across the set at a camera man, whizzing copies of his books around, taking a swig out of his bottle of water Mountain Dew commercial-style or biting the head off one of his many miniature foam bulls he keeps on hand, this man bleeds charisma and definitely sells what he knows. On top off this, he simultaneously gives out knowledgeable and credible advice on whether to invest or get the hell out of whatever business you are investing in.

So, while you may think you know everything about news television, let me tell you one thing. You don’t know Jim. Haha, see what I did there? And oh yeah, boooooooooyah!

We got Frank, Frank's got problems...

2005-11-29T14:28:00.000-05:00

Ohio University is already making its run for the number one party school. We got a taste of the good life at number two and have made strides to exceed that but we have outdone ourselves this time. The open burning of furniture as well as drunken assaults on Halloween were all respectable, but now our sphere of partying influence has even taken over those in charge. I know this because yesterday our new football coach, nay, our field general and mastermind... wait even more accurate still, our Lord and Savior of athletics who is fufilling the prophecy of creating the Bobcats into a national powerhouse, just so happened to be slapped with a little DUI charge. Whoopsie daisies!

Yes, today Frank Solich, former Nebraska head coach, openly addmitted in court to charges of drunk driving. Something like this is sure to put a man's job in jeopardy seeing as he is a leader in the Athens community as well as a highly respected figure among the administration. Just kidding! He's keeping his job, I mean Frank the Tank got us 4 wins motherfucker! Hell yeah, we might be .500 next year and we aren't going to mess that up because some guy likes to tie one on before going out for a drive. Athens is a beautiful town that comes to life when you're seeing double. And behind a windshield this beauty is like magnified by forty thousand. Or something like that, the locals around there know the correct figure.

Besides if you read the report it's not so bad. Solich was stopped by police while he was slumped over the wheel of his vehicle. Because he was passed out drunk. And the car was in drive. Also it was pointed the wrong way on a one-way street. Whoopsie doodles!

Also I'd like to make a side note here. We have several one-way streets in the quaint and scenic town of Athens. I can recall fond memories as a freshmen being laughed at because I showed my status whenever I looked both ways at one of these streets. Well guess what assholes, just because it's one way doesn't mean cars are somehow physically incappable of driving the wrong way down them. I was taught to look both ways and in a place where the alcohol consumption level is greater then the water useage I think I'll put forth the energy to strain my neck for a passing glance at the other end of the street before I am mowed down by a faculty member simply because I wanted to appear 'in the know'.

Now back to the incomprable football genius and epic motivator Frank. I hope by now you've picked up on all the overblown compliments I've been giving him. I say these things because its all I have heard since we got him. Students can barely name our starting quaterback, and yes if you are wondering I have no idea who he is. We used to have AJ Hawk's brother, which I only knew because it was mentioned during an Ohio State game I had on. He's gone now, since that blood thirsty linebacker got all the talent in the family, and we are left with some schlub. So Frank has posters on the sides of trucks, t-shirts made in his honor and countless flyers, press appearences and write-ups in the newspapers. And yes he is a fine coach, however I didn't base my decision on an academic institution on who was running the football team. It was based off what college would take me. Thank god there was one.

I predict Frank is going to come out of this fine, seeing as he already brought national attention to the program and the incident happened in Ohio University over break, so no one is on the roads anyway. No one important I mean, if he took out a townie that would probably be covered up. He is going to be placed on probation, admit his mistake publicly and teach some alcohol awareness programs. Which means I got to get my drink on! If I get caught for underage consumption I'll find myself in the presence of FOOTBALL GREATNESS THAT MORTAL MINDS CAN BARELY BEGIN TO FATHOM! And I don't want to miss an opportunity like that. Solich will be doing it for the kids. Also for the court order and millions he'd lose if he was fired. Whoopsie lost-opportunities-and-funds-if-you-don't-play-ball-after- completely-embarrassing-an-administration- that-has-fought- for-a-tougher-stance-on- drinking-oodles!

(You can read about this here. Please ignore the fact they spelled our president's name wrong and that Frank was fired from Nebraska after going 9-3 not 7-7. I mean it's ABC, they dont have time for corrections when they put out such fine programming like According to Jim)

Reuben Tells You Why Your Favorite Comedian Sucks, Part 2: Larry The Cable Guy

2005-11-26T12:28:00.000-05:00

Seeing as I am the only one who seems to write for this God forsaken comedy blog anymore, I apologize for my tardiness in posting a new entry on the page. I have no letter from the doctor, but I assure you that the 35 pounds of food that I gorged on during the last two days left me completely unable to move (let alone comprehend rational thought) and therefore provide an adequate alibi. Nothing's more American than Thanksgiving, particularly the part where you feel like you've gained so much weight you might not move for the next few weeks, so you might as well watch some football games you care nothing about.

Nothing, that is, except Larry the Cable Guy.

Yes, Larry the Cable Guy. Nothing screams Red, White, and Blue like the Red-neck, White-bread, Blue-collar piss-poor excuse for a stand up set from the round mound of... uh... well, something that rhymes with 'mound' and means 'not funny.' There are many reasons why the great fish-hooked one is not funny. Let me count the ways:

1. Git-R-Done!
Of the things that Larry does that piss me off, shouting Git-R-Done after every goddamned joke is certainly one of them. Though I must admit that the first time I heard it I did laugh a little at its sheer ridiculousness, it is none the less unfunny. For the record, I did not laugh the next 1,349 times I heard him say it. He repeats his creation over and over again as if it were a work of pure comedic genius, not unlike other members of the Blue Collar Comedy Tour. He attaches it as an exclamation point to the end of a bit like glitter on a pimple or a birthday hat on the Elephant Man, and as far as I can tell it's to let the audience know that it's time to laugh. Since his bits are so haphazardly constructed and poorly thought out that they aren't funny on their own, his default mechanism after a bit fails is this ridiculous thing. Side note: anyone who uses a catch phrase as if it were an 'Applause' sign clearly does not respect his audience. (Although it points to the average IQ of his target viewer.)

2. Ah cain't undersayund yeh...
Like so many from the Mid-West (which I also live), Larry cannot pronounce some (or more likely most) words properly. My guess is that Larry, while having dental surgery as a young boy, was permanently injured and cannot enunciate properly. I can relate, as a tragic Turkish Bath accident has left my ring and pinky fingers on my right hand paralyzed and I have a Sign Language impediment. Regardless, he probably should have checked out other career opportunities, seeing as he has a speech problem as well as a rare form of Not Funny.

3. Did you ever see 'Deliverance?'
Well, had you seen it you would have laughed. Since you haven't, suffice it to say that those people who are born in Appalachia are likely crazy and should be approached with extreme caution. don't worry about them getting offended; they don't have indoor plumbing, let alone the internet. Plus, they probably don't read blogs.

4. Birds of a Feather...
Perhaps one of the least funny parts about Larry is Jeff Foxworthy. Simply by knowing that man, he is unfuny by association. Though not as rife for comedic commentary for the purposes of this post, he is perhaps the least funny non-racial comedian I have ever witnessed on television. Again, I will remind the readers that every comedian, nay, every person has (what I like to call) their 'moments.' Jeff Foxworthy has made a career out of recreating his moments on stage and on TV for a very long time. Another side note: he has been on television and been making records for over 20 years, so I think it's time to stop pretending that you're from the heartland. You're as country as CMT. Think about that one for a while why don't you.

(For the sakes of this argument, I chose not to target Bill Engvall or Ron White. I find Ron to actually be very funny, and Bill's here's your sign bit, although tiresome, still has it's moments. More than, say, Larry.)

I'm sure there's more I don't like about him, but let's end on this:

5. What is it that you say you do for a living?
He is not, has never been, or most likely will ever be a 'cable guy.' He doesn't even have the uniform. Cable persons are highly trained professionals (I think) and have far different personal hygiene standards than he. Larry the Cable guy is not a cable guy. Therefore, I think his name should be changed. Something like Larry the... uh... well, something that rhymes with 'mound' and means 'not funny.'

An American Tragedy

2005-11-25T21:31:00.000-05:00

There are disheartening and unfortunate events that will strike any person's life. Here at Horrible People we poke fun at a lot of different things but once and awhile even we are unable to ignore such sad and tragic occurences. This brave country has endured a lot of strife from 9/11 to the Katrina disaster. These events are impossible to ignore and take years to properly recover from. Today another one of these catastrophes has befallen our great nation. If you have yet to hear of this disaster I leave you now to read on and try your best to make sense of it all.

Stay Strong.

If you have read the above article and have remained composed enough to continue on I consider you a stronger person than myeself. After discovering this I doubled over in grief and nearly collapsed as I felt the will to live sucked from my body.

But I can't wait for the divorce trial to be played on MTV! Finally a reason to watch that new fangled music television channel, since I know music wont be a part of the programming anytime ever again ever. They can call it Newly Divorced or Sorry Nick you signed the pre-nup. I think once the proceedings start and the estate begins to be divided we'll see Jess go from Rainman to Einstein especially when her Dreamhouse is on the line. All I can do is pray that this somehow ends Ashlee Simpsons career. Knowing the way she leeches off her sister she'll prpbably try to get with Nick and make another season of Newlyweds. If not him I think Lance Bass is looking for work.

Winter Fashions: Kabbalah is the new Pink

2005-11-18T06:27:00.000-05:00

The holidays are coming up, and you know what that means: Christmas time! Sure I'm Jewish, but c'mon now, Christmas is an American holiday. Sure Jesus died for... some reason (I didn't read that far into the book), but it boils down to this: I don't go down to the local mall to sit on Jesus' lap. We want the fat man. The head honcho. The Don Juan of the winter season. Step aside, Jesus. It's Santa's time now. (‘Godfather’ theme plays in the background, Jesus' cross blows up).

What, too soon?

But on an entirely different topic completely than that, it seems as though a religious group takes over the television right around the middle of the year, goes crazy and makes everyone else feel less superior, and lasts until shopping season starts. Let's look at a few right now.

This year's newest model: Scientology
How can you be wrong when you have the Latin root for 'study of truth' right in your name? Really though, what can I say that hasn't already been said by South Park, Matt Lauer, and every sane person on the planet? Seriously, if you don't yet know the wonders of Scientology, click on this link right here. Yea, you heard me, that one. That is what the really actually believe. Swear to God. Or whatever you swear to when you’re a Scientologist. Basically, a science fiction writer decided he wanted to prove he could invent a religious movement. And indeed he did. America, what a country. (I think he was American...)

Last year's tired old thing: Kabbalah
As a Jew, I was surprised to hear that anyone who wasn't Jewish even heard about Kaballah. Seriously though, this one is pretty much nonsense too. It's a Jewish mysticism. Think Dreidls plus Harry Potter. Yea. Plus there's Madonna, and she used to think she was British. I don't trust those damn Redcoats, let alone turncoats like that hag. I don't trust that at all. Also, just a thought: Madonna is the creepy mom of a kid at your high school that's dressed way too young for her age. Waaaay too young. I smell month old tuna, and I think it's her leotard collection.

The little black dress: Atheism
Oh, do I love the atheists. Here's a typical conversation I have with an Atheist on the topic of religion:
"Not a fan of the organized religion, huh bub?"
"No way, dude. I saw through the bullshit. Big man in the sky invented us all? Please."
"Okay, well what do you believe in?"
"Not your bullshit, man. Not your bullshit."
"That's not what I asked you. You gave me what you didn't believe in. I asked what you do believe in. That's circular logic."
"I don't believe in God, if that is his real name"
(I leave and slash my wrists)
I suppose I would be atheist too if I didn't miss every other day of class for being Jewish. Yea, that's a perk (it's in the bible).

The nudist: Agnosticism
C'mon now, agnosticism? Your religion is to have no religion at all. Your belief system is to not have any true beliefs other than you're miffed by the whole thing. Having your religion be agnostic is like having your mode of transportation is quadriplegic. And nobody likes a quadriplegic.

That's the top of the list. I've made too many Catholic jokes already; Muslims don't really push my buttons. (Get it? 'Cuz they blow shit up with their explosive belts.) I dunno, maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe it’s the 8-ball and shot of whiskey I had before I wrote this post. Maybe it’s ‘cuz Miller hasn’t written a new post in ages (which is also why I stole that 8-ball joke from him). In the end though, we’re all Americans, and that’s all that really matters.

And Canadians. I guess they’re okay, so long as I can keep calling them Hosers.

A Compelation of Relatively Funny One Liners, Bad Jokes, and Awkward Things to Say

2005-11-14T05:10:00.000-05:00

Ask anybody who knows me, I am a huge fan of the barely funny joke. Anything with a short chuckle or a groan, that's perfect. That's why they call me Taffy. Just covered in bad jokes. Two of 'em. and I'm delicious. See what I did there? Eh? But back to the point, rattle off a few of these at your next corporate gathering or cousin's Bar Mitzvah and you'll be sure that they'll never invite you back.

Some of these are mine, some are uncredited because I've long since forgotten who first made them up. A good bet is that the ones stolen are originals from Mitch Hedberg, Steven Lynch, Steven Wright, Bob Hope, Jimmy Carr, and a laundry list of many other famous people. That's why they call me Scarface. I just do every line that's put in front of me. Eh?

Ah, nevermind.

Here's some jokes:

If I made orange juice I wouldn’t be so hardcore on people. I would be more polite. For example, I wouldn’t print ‘shake well’ on the carton, because you don’t know how good people can shake. I would write, ‘shake to the best of your ability.’ Then I’d have a diagram that shows the uninitiated how to shake. ‘Okay, put it over here, then put it over here, then put it over here quicker.’

I heard a commercial for a boxing match; it said it was going to be a fight to the finish. That’s a good place to end.

I want to talk for a moment about battered women. Sounds delicious, but that doesn’t make it right.

Jesus was the only 33-year-old unmarried Jew ever whose parents didn’t think he was gay.

I saw a woman uptown last week with a purse that said ‘Guess’ on the side, so I said ‘You’re a man?’ She got mad me.

I saw ‘The Vagina Monologues’ a few weeks ago, have you seen it? I gotta say it was the worst ventriloquism I’ve ever seen. I could see their lips moving the whole time.

Nobody knows what Jesus’ last words really were, but I’m putting my money on ‘Hey, I can see my house from here.’

A while ago my sister and I were riding in my car, and she turned to me, punched me in the arm and said, ‘Padiddle!’ Later on in the day, around 3 in the afternoon, I saw a car with both headlights broken. So I stabbed her.

I have found that it is never funny to pick up a kid and run. Even for like five feet, because they will tackle you.

I think a lot of gay people prefer to stay in the closet because they’re interested in fashion.

I learned something interesting the other day. Professional boxers don’t have sex the night before a fight. Did you know that? It turns out the reason that boxers don’t have sex before a fight isn’t to save energy, but rather it’s because they don’t really like each other.

I feel like, since I’m a diabetic, I could start doing heroin and no one would notice.

Awesome. How's that for good shit, huh? Comedy gold. Good thing I put those out here, they were starting to stink up the back of my fridge. Gross.

I think like 2 of those are really mine. Maybe more, I forget. That's why they call me Alzheimer. Because I... wait... whaaaah?

See what I did there? Eh? Eh? EH?

Nevermind.

An open letter to...Labradoodles, Puggles and other crimes against nature

2005-11-13T02:03:00.000-05:00

Hey there little fellas,
I was just writing to remind you that you are little concocted monsters that should not be in existance let alone costing hundreds of dollars to buy. I hate to break the news to you in an open letter on a blog but the truth is you are a fad. It started mainly when some bored and piss poor breeder realized that not only mixing the word 'poodle' made new funny names but by mixing a poodle itself could make new funny dogs. So we were blessed with the Labradoodle. And it didn't take long till there were Cockapoos. Followed by Boxerdoodles, Pugapoos, Shepadoodles, Eskapoos and my personal favorite Doodleman Pinschers. However, I can calssify all of you under one name and that is 'Mutt'. Believe it or not that's what designer dogs are, mixed breeds, since poodles don't care what they're fuckin and sick people out there don't mind watching and then cashing in big by selling the hell spawn. Hell spawn in this instance meaning you.

And you Puggles shouldn't be smiling even if you are the new fun mix that's taking Hollywood by storm. Why even uber-sexy Jake Gyllenhaal got his greasy mits on one of you mongrels. And as you know I am a huge Gyllenholic but this still doesn't make me consider you a creature to be tolerated let alone loved. You see beagles are a fine breed and pugs, well I actually consider pugs to be quite disgusting. It may be their faces which look like chewed leather, or the fact they are prone to respiratory problems resulting in them wheezing like a geriatric struggling on a low oxygen tank. But never in my wildest nightmares did I imagine these animals engaging in the 'durrty' and having you as offspring.

I only request that you show a little humility and stop thinking you are kings of the canine world merely because you seem so different. Remember that differences used to get you in a side show where local yokels could throw pebbles at you for a nickle. They'd have stuck one of you monstrosities right between the bearded lady and lobster boy while a carnival barker announced the terrifying story of how you half bloods came to be. Just hoping to put a little perspective on the situation. And above all this is a plea, for the love of god don't let this spiral downward to a point where we have to utter the word Pooduggle of Puggleoodle. Come to think of it Pooduggle is a pretty funny word. Sorry to end abruptly, just keep in mind what I said. I've got to go scour the pound for some horny mutts. Daddy needs a new pair of shoes!

Get Your Shit Together, Cable News

2005-11-12T17:56:00.000-05:00

You'd think that terrorist attacks in Jordan and Israel, riots in France and Afghanistan, insurrection in Iraq, civil war in Sudan, and the saga of Bennifer II would be plenty to make the cable news outlets get a half-chub, but as the hunger of the American people has grown for the McRib, so too has it's insatiable appetite for useless news expanded to Kirstie Alley-like proportions. Which brings me to my point: New baby animals are not news.

Some of you may have a hard time wrapping your head around it, so let me repeat it for you folks that didn't fully grasp it the first time. Take a deep breath and close your eyes and focus on my words.

New baby animals are not news.

Yes, they are interesting, they do get ratings, and they are damn cute, but it is not news. It's the result of two animals following thier natural urges and creating little versions of themselves. Animal reproduction. Gross. Not news.

I typically see 4 or 5 'news' stories every year or so about a hippopotamus here, a couple bald eagles there. Fine, that's acceptable. Human interest. Now go back to how crappy the weather is and how our local sports franchises lose all the time.

So somebody explain to me how I have seen not 1, not 2, but 3 baby animal stories today. THREE. That's unacceptable. I expect more from the networks that brought me Crossfire, The O'Reilly Factor, and The Situation Room with Wolf Blitzer (which, turns out, really is just a room with Wolf Blitzer locked in it).

Story one: a baby giant panda named Su Lin had its first public appearance today at the San Diego Zoo. And there was much hooplah. Yay, a baby. Have a cookie.

Story two: An Atlantic bottlenose dolphin named Tapeko gave birth to a healthy 30-35 pound, 3-foot-long female calf at the Brookefield Zoo. No idea where that is. Don't care.

Story 3: A baby babboon rescued from a pet shop in Qatar is 'doing well' in the Doha Zoo in that same country. In a related story, I don't care. It's in Qatar. That's further away than Brookefield. I really don't give two shits about this one. Do you? No, no you don't.

And you shouldn't.

Pandas and dolphins and babboons are all cute, especially baby ones. These stories have the news value of the average People magazine article and the shelf life of a half eaten Taco Bell burrito. I haven't heard news about the most recent suicide bombers in Israel, the peace efforts in Sudan, the most recent Bird Flu cases, or the nuclear proliferation of about a half dozen Eastern Bloc countries. That's important. This crap isn't. Get your shit together, folks. Come on, we need more hardened tough, old fashioned news in our journalism.

Like more coverage of Nick and Jessica. Can't get enough of that.

Steve calls a Wrong Number, Part II

2005-11-06T14:51:00.000-05:00

{scene starts}

Phone rings at Tony's house, he picks up the reciever...

"Hello?"
"Hey, this is God. is this Steve?"
"God?"
"Yes, God."
"Uh... no, this is Tony."
"Oh, sorry, wrong number."

Tony, stunned, quickly attempts to dial *69 and his phone implodes.

Later, after returning from his chiropractor's appointment, Steve sees he has a message on his machine...

---BEEP---

"Hey Steve, this is God. I got your message and I thought I'd give you a call you back. I haven't seen you around much since you stopped coming to church when you were 17. If you have anything specific to ask me feel free to give a little prayer or put a little note on the wall of my Facebook page. Thanks for your call, and I'll try to keep in touch. Hope your back feels better. See you later. Actually, I see all at all times, so I guess I'll just say goodbye."

---BEEP---

{scene end}

Halloween Recap

2005-11-06T00:41:00.000-05:00

Another successful Halloween. 'Successful' in this sense means a frigid October night, with a smaller yet more intoxicated crowd than last year, resulting in roughly a hundred arrests. There were several cases of underage drinking, robbery, assault and an attempted rape. I guess that's why we are the number 2 party school, I bet Wisconsin doesn't fool around when forcing sex on their underclassmen. But the important thing here is that I had an awesome time.

Some people took our advice and I saw a lot of slutty schoolgirls, slutty cops and sluts. Glad we could be of service there. Also the drinking advice dished out on this site was not only up to par but far exceeded in most cases. You crazy kids, ya hear a good idea and just fucking sprint with the son of a bitch. My favorite public drunk was the Slutty Cat Girl (not recommended by us, but nice touch) that was so far gone she just hugged a brick wall and screamed to the heavens. This chick was obliterated, one side of black whiskers smeared along the face, spit bubbling on the lips, rips and tears appearing all over her tight black spandex suit and about a ten foot radius of onlookers avoiding the situation or just openly mocking her. I'm sure the rest of her sorority, that probably went as Playboy Bunnies and were pissed she tried being an individual, left her for dead after her 7th shot of Captain Morgan's.

Me and my Halloween date were a spot on recreation of Zack Morris and Kelly Kapowski. Don't believe me? Then how about you take a look...

Man alive, which one is the real Mark-Paul Gosselaar and Tiffany Amber Thiesen? If I didn't know any better Id think the image was just doubled.

Well guess what, me and my lovely accomplice Amy are actually on the right. You'll just have to take my word for it.

I rocked the platinum blonde highlights and acid-wash jeans as if I really was about to pull off another perfect scheme under Mr. Belding's nose, furthering my rep at Bay Side. But the best part of the outfit belonged to the Kelly clone...

Mmm mmm that is some well placed propaganda. We got our photos taken by some impressed streetwalkers and had several shout outs of our personas. And even several more shout outs of frat boys screaming for a bang by Kelly Kapowski.

We met up with the other two members of this site. One being the always absent Nick A.K.A. Miller Time. He may never post on this website but he sure knows how to rock a top hat and look like he'll enjoy a fine cup of tea after murdering a cabin full of promiscuous teens.

Jesus H. Christ this is one bad ass mother. Would someone please get this grown 'Children of the Corn' cast member an axe. He mentioned how he'd be sure to write a "Worst of Halloween" post detailing the most pathetic costumes and poorest behavior. I assume we can expect that completed by next Halloween.

Reuben 'the Hurricane' Bresler also decided to join the fun as obscure villian Luther, from 1979's gang war classic "the Warriors". I never heard of this movie either, but thanks to Rockstar and their new videogame based off this film we got to hear plenty of "wariors come out to play-ee-yaaa" all night long. The scene with that famous line is shown below...

Once again I am at a loss as to which is the real screen shot and which was taken at the desk of my school issued dormroom computer. Maybe the necklaces can be the deciding factory. As opposed to chains, I have heard rumors that 'The Hurricane' went all Martha Stewart and designed his very own metal chains out of duct tape.

Further down Court Street we ran into a little childhood nostalgia when contestants from 'Legends of the Hidden Temple' came running by.

And in the midsts of running they were nice enough to gather and let us take a snap shot. Purple Parrots, Geen Monkeys and even a Silver Snake made it in. I think for next years Halloween I am going to go as Olmec and ask ridiculous questions about ancient cities. Or better yet I will just go as a Temple Guard, and knowing full well that no person in Athens will have a Pendant of Life I can proceed groping them as they have failed in retrieveing the artifact from Olmec's Temple.

We pressed on and little further down was yet another one of my favortie childhood games to watch, a cockfight! Oh the memories.

Except this time I didn't previously poison the chicken feed of one of the competitors and bet the underdog. I mean if rigging a cockfight is wrong then I dont want to be right. Here we see the white cock landing a blow, but soon after the yellow cock sporting the Ted Ginn Jr. jersey got into rhythm and took this round.

Sure was some imagination in the works for this years costumes, I wonder if anymore will be interesting and OH MY GOD IT'S HANK!

Come on you know Hank. From the Starbucks Doubleshot commercial where Hank is starting his day right with a crowd of supporters chanting his name before he gives a presentation to middle management. This wasn't the best photo but these kids did an awesome job, especially on the mascot's paper mache head. Also I'd like to point out a disturbing trend in our generation, easily identifying with advertising and having it as a shared cultural background. But what the fuck, this group's costume kicked ass.

Well a lot of people sure came out to show off their outfits. I was beginning to wonder if anyone famous was going to stop by. Holy shit is that Doug Cloud?

Of course it is. Come on you know Doug Cloud. Co-host of Fridays Live, Ohio Universities very own late night variety show on public access. It usually runs the gamet from hilarious to god awful in one episode but Doug's costume was only hilarious. Yes, he went as his facebook page, which may seem a little self centered but who the hell else's page was he going to be? I couldn't get a great shot cause I was keeping Doug from the rest of his group while I quickly put him in frame. Also I think he was wigging out on acid cause he couldn't keep still. Or maybe it was just Halloween spirit. I mean look at that smile, only Halloween or hard drugs could produce that.

All in all a pretty awesome night. Those were some of the highlights, other great costumes were the Ipod People, Team America and the Heismen Trophy. Also there was no shortage of crazies roaming and cool times with friends to make the night memorable. Basically you should feel really awful about yourself if you missed it. Or if you were attacked or nearly raped. Just hope for another great and maybe safer Athens Halloween next year. Also look forward to increased global warming and a late October night to probably be in the mid 80s. Happy Halloween kids.

10 Reasons Gay Marriage is Wrong

2005-11-04T16:18:00.000-05:00

1) Being gay is not natural. Real Americans always reject unnatural things like polyester, artificial flavors, and air conditioning.

2) Gay marriage will encourage people to be gay, in the same way that hanging around tall people will make you tall.

3) Legalizing gay marriage will open the door to all kinds of crazy behavior. People may even wish to marry their pets because a dog has legal standing and can sign a marriage contract.

4) Straight marriage has been around a long time and hasn't changed at all; women are still property, blacks still can't marry whites, and divorce is still illegal.

5) Straight marriage will be less meaningful if gay marriage were allowed. The sanctity of Britany Spears' 55-hour Las Vegas marriage would be destroyed.

6) Straight marriages are valid because they produce children. Gay couples, infertile couples, and old people shouldn't be allowed to marry because our orphanages and foster homes aren't full yet, and the world needs more children with relatively fewer adults to feed them, especially in an inflating global marketplace.

7) Obviously gay parents will raise gay children, since straight parents only raise straight children.

8) Gay marriage is not supported by religion. In a theocracy like ours, the values of one religion are imposed on the entire country. That's why we have only one religion in America.

9) Children can never succeed without a male and a female role model at home. That's why we as a society expressly forbid single parents to raise children.

10) Gay marriage will change the foundation of society; we could never adapt to new social norms. Just like we haven't adapted to cars, the service-sector economy, or longer life spans.

Mmmm... That's good sarcasm.

Go Forth and Be Funny, part II: Psalm 23

2005-11-03T13:21:00.000-05:00

The Dubya is my shepherd; I do not want.

He makes me invade the green pastures; He doesn't send FEMA into the still waters.

He restores my fears; He leads me in the wrong paths of international disgrace for his ego's sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of pollution and war, I will fear no lesser evil, for thou art in office. Thy tax cuts for the rich and thy media control, they discomfort me.

You prepare an agenda of deception before me in the presence of thy religion; Thou anointest Halliburton's head with foreign oil; My cup of health insurance runneth out.

Surely megalomania and false patriotism shall follow me all the days of thy term; And I shall dwell the basement of my parents waiting for a better job market forever.

Steve calls a Wrong Number, Part I; a short play by a horrible person

2005-11-01T04:49:00.000-05:00

{Scene start}

As we see Steve, he is in the middle of dialing his chiropractor's number when his cat jumps on the table and pushes several buttons. The line connects...

"Hello. You've reached God. I cannot come to the phone right now, so please call me on my cell at GOD-CELLPHONE or at work at GOD-WORKING. You need to dial all of the numbers. That’s how they get ya."

Steve dials the number...

"You've reached the Sprint voice mailbox of:"
"God."
"To leave a message, press '1' now, or wait for more options."

Steve hangs up and dials the other number...

"Hello, you've reached the epicenter of the Universe. God cannot come to the phone right now, but if you leave your name, number, and a brief description of the miracle you would like performed you will be bathed in his presence just as soon as he can. Thanks for your call."
"Hey God. It's Steve. I accidentally dialed your home number and I thought I'd try to get in touch with you. If you could gimme a call back sometime that'd be great. Thanks."

Steve hangs up, pauses, and dials his chiropractor.

{Scene end}

To be continued...

If I Were...A Rodeo Bull

2005-10-30T23:35:00.000-05:00

If I were a rodeo bull I'd dominate the pro riding circuit. I'd cause so much harm and devastation they'd call me the Widow-maker or Mind-of-Mencia. God that show sucks. I'd leave slack jawed yokles even more slack jawed and yokley as they gaze in awe at my raw power. And I would train.

I wouldn't sit back being content maiming the fool hardy cowboy who thinks he could tame me. Id figure out which arching of my back made it possible for me to get my horns lodged in ribs and how to successfully perform a barrel roll. 8 seconds will seem impossible once I'm able to steam roll that Stetson wearing asshole into the dirt of Relient Stadium during Rodeo Week. Cowboys would fear me so much they wouldn't leave the safety of their mobile homes while the masses would cheer me on like a gladiator, calling for more victims to face me in this modern day colosseum.

I'd even invent a mechanical bull rider. That's right, a robotic cowboy that adjusts to every twist and buck that would push me to new levels of excellence. This task would seem hard since I only have bulky hooves and the intelligence of a retarded labrador. In fact I don't even know where I'd get parts. All I do is spill drool in my dirt pen. And my background in engineering probably wouldn't even encompass the basic components to start such a massive endeavor.

On second thought I think I am just going to gore a clown to death. The masses will still cheer.

Halloween Help Out

2005-10-28T14:14:00.000-04:00

It's that time of year again. Here in Athens Ohio thousands converge in a drunken orgy that fills the streets and goes from dusk till dawn. Maybe I am exaggerating a little but you know 'prepare for the worst expect the best'. Now for all those students or even visitors comming in who think they can get away without a costume I've got some news, those who aren't wearing one are stoned to death on the college green. True story. Or they're just mistaken for creepy townies who look at Halloween as a free peep show. The important thing here is that you are prepared this year and if you still haven't gotten around to it we at Horrible People are your saviors once again with these helpful tips. Now these are going to be broken down into categories so try and stay with me.

Excellent Guys Costumes: Now these costumes are for the boys and can work on several hilarious levels. For those just planning to wrap themselves in toilet paper or wear a sheet I am afraid that everyone will hate you and you wont get laid. Sorry it's just how it is. However, using these ideas is a non stop one way ticket to pussy town...

Big Bad Bob Ross: Everyone loves him and his happy little trees. He's talented, sensitive and above all dead. But dont let that stop you from honoring his memory the Athens way by strapping on the white man's fro and getting sloppy drunk with a palette and paintbrush in your hands. You want to kick this ensemble to the next level get some face paint and be Zombie Bob Ross. Back from the beyond to bring us more awesome paintings in under a half hours time that you could never create no matter how close you're watching the TV screen. Just make sure you have the essentials so you're not confused with any average aging hippie.

Dale Chihuly: Alright I don't want to lose anyone here but Chihuly is a good choice because he offers versatility. He's the cycloptic glass blower who sells his sulptures for more then I will make in a lifetime. He's a little stout, a little gruff and has got that badass eye-patch that I can only assume occured in a drunken brawl. Now this get up goes a long way because you'll be able to gauge the intelligence of the girl you are meeting. If she is not in to fine art and stares back at you blankly when you say the name 'Chihuly', you can follow it up by stating he was a blood thirsty pirate king and nothing stood between him and booty! Thats where you grab her ass and she begins open mouth kissing you in the street. Also remark that this particular pirate loved wearing bright shirts and pants that never matched.

Christopher Walken from the Continental: How have I not seen this duplicated a hundred times over each year? Probably because I am a visionary and you hit a Halloween goldmine by reading this page. It's a reference anyone who's anyone will understand and gives you a chance to act like a lecherous pervert all night long. Christopher Walken brought this hilarious character to life and now you can too if you add slicked back hair, a pencil thin mustache, smoking jacket and a plastic champagne glass that you can take to the kegs. You care for some more Nati Ice, I mean Cham-pain-ya? Don't forget to give out a good 'Wow...wowee wow wow wow!' whenever possible.

Excellent Girls/Guys Costume: Only one in this category but if done right it could be a real hit

Emo Kid: We all hate 'em but here's your chance to see the sad and depressed world through their 125 dollar thick rimmed glasses. For the guys you need to leave your hair horrendously messy with black or blonde streaks of dye, put in a pattern that makes even a clown feel ashamed. then go with a shirt with some band name like "Hawthorn Heights", "Blood Ripped September" or "Suffocating Red Dawn Rising and the Screaming Sadness". Now add pants so tight you'll probably need surgery to remove your balls first and some classic vintage shoes.

Also I'd like to take a minute to point out that there is something completely fucked up with your scene when the only way to get into a girls pants is to literally get into a girls pants.

As for the females you have to go with the glasses, dyed black hair and some form of piercing that accents, well...nothing. Just slap it above your lip or on your chin. Bascially anywhere that would be considered ridiculous. Then go with the sweater vest pull over, bag lady style skirt and some clunky Doc Martins. Carry around a nice book like the Bell Jar and you'll be in business.

Excellent Girls Costumes: Now I am no expert on girls fashion but I do know what will be a hit. If you want some thoughtful and clever outfit that is sure to keep the heads turning then just take some of these hints. By the end of the night your oringinality will be the talk or drunken memory of all your peers...

Slutty Schoolgirl: That's right, this one is a classic and I don't want to mess with what works. Don't go crazy trying to reinvent the wheel, white knee high socks, short plaid mini skirt and a tied off white button up to show that midriff. For that little extra try going without panties and spin like a top when you enter a room. Its Halloween, a time to be carefree. And don't forget the pigtails, pigtails are hot as hell.

Slutty Cop: Am I the first person to ever think that a hot cop is sexy? Probably, but that shouldn't stop you from avoiding this surefire outfit. Get yourself the tight blue top with a badge that says something like Officer 69 and put on your little black cap. Add a short black skirt with a club and fuzzy handcuffs along the outside and to spice things up try not wearing panties. Throw on some real intimidating boots too, and feel free to frisk naughty boys at random.

A Slut: Keeping with the theme it's best to throw inhibitions to the wind and be something your not. Hell, even if you are this is a good opportunity to finally not be judged for it. Just get yourself a filthy little dress and apply make up that screms 'approach for blowjob'. If you need more ideas please research girls on Laguna Beach or any sorority.

A Slutty Slut: This one is taking it to the next level. It's best that you pray for warm weather and get pretty drunk prior to leaving your room. Also spending about 10 grand on some fake knockers is a plus. A lot like the slut but try showing more skin and play it up so there isn't a girl on the block that wont mumble the word whore as you walk by.

A Slutty Slut Dirty Pirate Whore: Maybe you can go with some guy who dresses as Chihuly and the two of you can make a night of it.

So that about wraps it up. Hope that I was able to benefit guys and girls on some fun, unique and terrific halloween hits. Just make sure to follow everything here as gospel and I should be having another terrific Halloween.

And as for yours truly? Why didn't I use one of these awesome ideas? Because I will be going as Zack Morris and a special lady of mine will be Kelly Kapowski. Letting people see everyone's favorite couple from Bayside High making it in the real world. And the best part is when I bring her back to my room I'll make her screech. You get what I'm saying!? YOU GET WHAT I'M SAYING!?

Even I don't get what I'm saying.

Halloween Help Out, Part II

2005-10-28T01:01:00.000-04:00

I have some additional hints to combine with friend Jeff (Runner)’s list. I am not suggesting that you wear layers or protect your extremities from the frigid Ohio cold. I’m not a doctor. Rather, I am an Ohio University student. Trust us, we’re professionals. We aren’t the #2 party school in the country for nothing, you know. I am a man who knows how to really get into the festivities of Halloween in Athens. I have a few suggestions, beginning with #1:

#1: Drink Excessively.
Experts agree, you should beer-bong at least (At LEAST) one case of Nati. Each 12 ounce can adds something like a half of a degree of body heat. It’ll be like being at the beach! So ladies, feel free to wear the most scantily clad outfit you can find. This brings me to #2:

#2: Embrace the Hedonism
Women, this is your night to shine as the sex object that society has told you that you aren’t for the last decade or so, so enjoy the sexist cleverly guised as nonconformity and originality.

Gentlemen, this Halloween it is supposed to be about 50 degrees outside. In conjunction with Mother Nature I am happy to inform you that every woman will have two nipples with glass-cutting capabilities, so enjoy that (unless you are going as the mirror from Snow White, then it will suck). In addition, they are drunk. Very drunk. You have no real excuse not to get them naked. They don’t have that much on to begin with (just offer them a blanket and a half bottle of vodka, that should do).

#3: Stay Drunk
Make sure you keep a BAC of at least 1.64 all night. Constant bouncing from party to party and pub to pub doing keg stands/shot guns should keep you sufficiently buzzed.

#4: Guess at People’s Obscure Costumes
Nothing is as fun as trying to guess whether the drunk in front of you with the 1.64 BAC is Captain Morgan, Jack Sparrow, or Blackbeard for 15 minutes in the middle of Court Street. Sure, immediately pegging someone as Papa Smurf is fun too, but there’s an inherent entertainment factor people have when they’re being guessed at. And you’re asking for it if you’re dressing up as some random character from a random movie.

As for myself, I’m going as Luther from the 1979 gang war classic ‘The Warriors.’ That should be tons of fun explaining to the drunken masses. You folks have fun now, and make sure you don’t stay too sober.

The Unpleasant Blues

2005-10-25T18:29:00.001-04:00

There's no bologna for my sammich,
mayonnaise gone bad.
Someone drank my sod-ee pop
and I’m feeling a little sad.
My CD player's skippin’.
I got bubble gum on my shoes, yeah.
Ain't nothing going right today.
I got the unpleasant blues.

I'm tellin' ya, baby.

Boxer shorts all fulla holes,
sock drawer's a mess.
Someone stole the dry-erase marker;
I’m so depressed!
The radio plays a happy song;
I guess they ain't heard the news.
This Anglo-Saxon’s not so white today, ‘cuz
I got the unpleasant blues.

An Open Letter to...Rolos

2005-10-23T03:00:00.000-04:00

Dear Rolos,
You truly are delicious morsels, with your soft milk chocolate outside and smooth caramel center. You've brought taste and satisfaction whenever you were close by and I needed a pick me up. However, I feel there are certain aspects of our relationship that need to be addressed. First of which would be your foil covering. Why bother with such thin and brittle foil? Why wrap yourself in such a complicated coating of a pliable, gold tinted metal? I'm afraid I fail to see the reasoning. When I finally find a crease in your suit of armor it breaks into pieces. Little gold flakes falling all over my hands and jeans. Goddamn you Rolos, why do you tease me? After your shitty specks cover me people assume they must be the remains of body glitter from some stripper named Dakota. You know the type, just blanketed in ten cent sparkles from head to toe, claiming that they are "working their way through college". And me winking to let them know that I'm cool and understand that's stripper code for coke habit and asking if she can break a twenty. But I digress.

Lose the foil. It makes you look cheap and diminishes the satisfaction. Furthermore you need to stop tasting so great. I know thats what drove me to embrace your stout cylindrical form but enough is enough. I can't continue to spend hours inhaling pieces of chocolate that look like pieces from a board game. You need to incude some rolos that just aren't good. Sour outside, poor quality chocolate or maybe a razor blade. Something to make me stop. I BEG YOU TO HELP ME STOP! Ive already eaten a bag and a half just during this post! I can barely see the text through my tears. My fat, sugary tears, sweetened by the unholy amount of rolos Ive ingested. Please show me some mercy, either drop in quality or have a select few be so mind blowingly orgasmic I collapse from exhaustion. I've seen Willy Wonka and I know the power you candymen posess. Shrink the taste equivalent of a thousand rolos into one and let me fall into a sugar shock induced coma that leaves me a hollow shell of a once complete human being after recovery, as I would view the world as a hopeless and desolate wasteland, left to fathom how all its wonders combined could never compare to you.

Thanks a bunch,
Jay Runner

Hooray For Cleveland

2005-10-21T21:53:00.000-04:00

Cleveland is where I hail from. Worst poverty level of any major city, longest championship drought for all major sports and THE ROCK N' ROLL HALL OF FAME! You want to buy a 28 dollar ticket to check out Ringo's mustache comb from 76' behind 3 feet of bulletproof glass? About a 40 minute drive for me sucka. Man, thank the lord that place isn't now viewed as a complete waste of city funds or an architectural disgrace (is there a sarcasm font?). Harder still is being a die-hard Browns fan, a team that has the worst record since it's return after being hijacked and taken to the heroin capitol of America. A prominent feature that the city suprisingly doesn't call recognition too. If there ever was a more susceptible group to bring in to increase tourism it would have to be addicts looking to chase the dragon.

And the worst part is Pittsburgh fans know about all of this. It's hard to come up with adequate comebacks to insult the piss and coal colors of the Steelers but today I think a picture is truly worth a thousand words.

However I think in the majority of those thousand words you'll find several being synonyms for obese, terrifying, fat, elephantine, gelatinous, gargatuan and THERE-IS-NO- GOD-AND-I-HAVE-PHOTOGRAPHIC-EVIDENCE .

Hey Steelers fans, you're ugly and I hate you.

*smiles and makes two pointing mock guns with hands*