Mailbag Episode III: Return of the Dick Joke Part-1

So I'm back and more than ready to tackle all of the questions you have submitted. I must say, they were quite insightful, and since I view this blog as my own version of Dear Abbey letters, except instead of giving advice on how to deal with the emotional distance that has developed between you and your alcoholic husband, I say things that are racist and make jokes about your crotch-because I'm high brow like that. The floor is yours, you trick-ass bitches! WHEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!

Confused Radio Listener,
I feel like there is no one with more credibility than you as a suburban, privately-educated, white male to help me with this quandary: Can you please explain this whole Nikki Minaj thing to me??? I really just do not get it.

Well let's get this established, she's probably not a human. I like to imagine her as the offspring between a Black Panther activist and a robot from Planet Skankulon. However you are right that a person of my background and pedigree would be the highest authority on the matter, because during the formative and impressionable years of a boy as lily-white as myself, nothing is more fascinating as Hip-Hop culture. I also bought weed from a black guy once so I'm pretty much the Young Jeezy of River Forest IL. But alas, I am just as confused as you when it comes to Nikki Minaj. First of all, what's up with her name? I assume its a reference to a "Menage A Trois", but let's get real for a second, because this bitch doesn't speak one fucking word of French. The closest thing she ever came to speaking French was getting gang banged by a group of displaced Haitians. Personally she doesn't turn me on, (two strikes against you in my book) she doesn't interest me as a rapper, and like I said before I'm pretty sure she's an intergalactic robot. Her raps are 16 bar collections of her yelling into a microphone while changing her voice in 30 second intervals. She constantly sounds like shes trying to threaten me, and I don't know if she's aware of this or not, but I'm from the West side, and I don't get threatened by no bitch.

What I do know is that she's not a very good rapper, mostly because she's a woman. For the most part she's fighting a losing battle. The fact that she specializes in over-sexualized rap isn't helping her out much either. Rap is an arena where literally hundreds of astonishingly stupid human beings have made millions by melodically timing lines like "Toot that ass up mama, put that dip in your back" and "Make your pussy fart". I know, I know, its like Shakespeare on Purple Drank. Rap is a man's game. In reality, only guys can get away with saying the grotesquely sexual and selling it as music for two reasons; the first is that we're bigger and more physically intimidating and you can't do anything about it, and secondly because its just a lot more natural. Let's be honest, if someone is rapping about something raunchy and borderline gross, it just doesn't feel right unless I can picture that person being a 6 foot tall black man in a mink coat pouring champagne on girls with no self-esteem. It just doesn't work. ITS NOT RACIST IF ITS TRUE!!! And when it comes to Nikki, I cant think of anything less appealing than telling a guy that you think its time to put your pussy on his sideburns. If that's your idea of dirty talk then I bet you dropped out of school before taking Human Anatomy because that's nowhere near my boner. Seriously, don't even fucking think about trying that.

In my personal opinion, coincidentally the only one that matters here, I think she has a much better chance of if she sticks to pop music. She can probably have a pretty successful music career if she chooses to do so. Since its not hard to make a catchy tune these days, and the world is full of an astounding amount of fucking idiots, she should be teaming up with the clan of cretins commonly referred to as the Black Eyed Peas, and churning out Top 40 hits that have Ryan Seacrest creaming his panties 4-5 times a year.

ZHSK,

I actually didn't see the victoria secret show but it sounds like its just soft core porn on CBS. Which brings me to my question, isn't soft core porn better that hard core or is that just me?!?! It has better plots and the girls are typically better looking, and less porn star-ish. I have this argument with my ex-roommates a lot.

In a number of respects the Victoria's Secret show was a lot like a soft-core porno, one major difference being that the women were genuinely beautiful and weren't pretending to give blow jobs in a scenic villa. I think you have a lot of insight into the strange dynamic of soft-core/hardcore porn, and I am delighted to throw my hat into the ring. Soft core porn does indeed have better plots, insomuch as that it actually makes an attempt at having somewhat of a plot. However it also does leave a number of questions unanswered; for instance, why are they always on some tropical resort? Where is that weird fucking music coming from? Why aren't they actually having sex? I digress... A hardcore porn movie doesn't even try to have a plot anymore. "What did you say sexy nurse? I'm gravely ill and the only cure is where? IN YOUR PUSSY??? I beg you, save me if you can!". I find it hard to blame the females actresses for not exactly being stage trained, because if you have resorted to letting people film you while drinking a stranger's jizz from a martini glass, all for the sake of a paycheck, then you were probably dead inside long before I started writing this blog.   

You're also right in the fact that soft-core porn has better looking women, in the traditional sense. The kind of women who star in "Hot Springs Hotel" and other softcore titles all seem to look the a stereotypical 34 year old trophy wife who moonlights as a struggling actress. Most of them all genuinely decent looking humans, as copmpared to many of the women in hardcore porn, who look like truckstop prostitutes who shoplifted their outfits and eye makeup from a strip mall. The soft core women may legitimately be "sexy" (if there's a gayer term, I'm unaware of it) while many of the girls in hardcore porn look like bleached out sacks of bronzer and cocaine. The reason you don't see girls looking like that anywhere besides porn movies and motorcycle parts catalogs is because they are no longer that girls they once were. No, they are once-regular girls that have now been fucked far beyond recognition. But to understand the attractiveness breakdown in the soft vs. hard core debate, you must understand the dynamic of the seperation. A hardcore porn producer doesn't have very much leeway when it comes to physical looks because, in the end, there's only a select few women on this Earth willing to let some perv with a ponytail film them shoving a bowling pin up their ass.

Soft core porn was great for what it was. When I was 12 it may have been the greatest thing ever; part of it was the awakening every young boy experiences when he starts to realize all the magical and amazing things he can do with his penis. Also, back then there was a strange allure to the concept of people fucking on television. You watched because it was dangerous; dangerous not only because you might get caught watching something filthy, but also dangerous because you didn't want your parents to know you were masturbating in the family TV room. You knew you weren't supposed to be watching it, but why would your Dad pay for cinemax if we weren't going to use the whole spectrum of its programming? Adolescent rationale at its best. At the end of the day the soft core experience was a sensual game of cat and mouse that left you aroused, but didn't cross the line enough to quell your stiffy. Then you get a little bit older, and your eyes are opened to the seemingly limitless world of smut. But, like in so many other avenues in life, once you cross that threshold you're gone forever. In a way its like how when you hire an agent before the NFL draft you can no longer hold an amateur status with the NCAA, and how when a guy sucks a penis just one time, he is 100% gay (FACT).

Hardcore porn doesnt play into a man's sense of danger or excitement, it just leaves you feeling a little weird and slightly ashamed of yourself. It doesn't help matters much when you hear some of the vile shit that comes out of their mouths mid-coitus (or what goes into their mouths HEYOOOOOO!!!!). Sometimes as some poor girl is getting her piping demolished I catch myself thinking "What would her parents say about this?" and then I quickly remember that they clearly don't have any parents, thus leading them to this situation in the first place.

To answer your question Zaid, soft core porn certainly has an upper hand in some categories. Yes the talent is considerably less whorish looking and they make an attempt at a storyline, but the mystique associated with soft core just doesn't do it past the high school age. It comes to a point where the danger your mind associates with the soft core experience just cant trump the awe and shock value from mainstream hardcore fuck films. I think the point I am trying to make, to put it succinctly, is that once you've watched two Russian girls piss on each other, there's really no going back to your old life. 

Anonymous Anne

So one time I hooked up with this man and he turned to me the next morning and goes..."So you're on Birth Control right?" Should my feelings be hurt that he didn't want to have babies with me or should I just understand that maybe he's not ready yet to be a father?

Well "Anonymous", if I were to take something away from this situation it certainly wouldn't be any hurt feelings, but rather some concern. If this guy had to ask you whether or not you're on BC I think its fair to deduce that he probably came inside you. The fact that he did this without knowing whether or not you still had the goalie in net so to speak, probably means he's a supreme fucking idiot, and that's not the kind of guy you want to be having kids with anyway. Ever notice that the stupidest people all have a ton of kids? Now does that shock you?

Of course he isn't ready to be a father, none of us are. No, I'm not saying that guys are age should really be more focused on experiencing their 20's and having fun out on the town with our friends-kind of "not ready". I mean we are never ready; one of the great parts of our more advanced intellect is the part of our brain that reminds us men that children fucking suck. We'll do everything in our power not to have a kid. We'll voluntarily pull our penises out of the most beautiful and inviting of love tunnels just as the best part is about to happen just to avoid this very predicament, which is dumbfounding once you really think about it. Sometimes we'll even wear condoms for fuck's sake. Its not because we are all perpetually immature or afraid of growing up, its because we would rather shit hot knives than have a fucking child. Have you ever been on a plane with a child? Hell on Earth. Ever tried to have a conversation with a 4 year old? They'll straight up tell you that yesterday they saw an elephant eating cotton candy in their back yard, as if you're the one who still pisses themselves rather than the one with a college degree. Kids are the worst.

Which brings me to a topic that I have been wanting to address on here for a while... You wanna know who else really isn't mature enough to be having a baby? Anyone who puts pictures of their baby on Facebook. I'm not talking about the people in their 30's and 40's who's lives are so boring that they think that going to a pumpkin patch and taking pictures of their snot-nosed children is a fulfilling weekend. No I'm talking about the kind of people that were on facebook within the first 18 months of the site's existence. If you are young enough to know what the website was like before they started making movies about it, there's a good chance you shouldn't be posting pictures of that baby you had out of wedlock. To be clear, it's not so much the fact that you're relatively young for motherhood, because age really doesn't determine your quality as a parent. I'm much more aggravated by the fact that some people don't realize that if you are still so tied to facebook that you feel the need to post pictures of what is, to all outward appearances the biggest mistake you have ever made, then you probably don't have the common sense that God so graciously bestowed upon goldfish.Let's be honest, if you aren't ready to let facebook go in the face of enormous new responsibilities, then you can't exactly fault me for thinking that perhaps you aren't mature enough to raise a human. Something seems a little off when I look through your photo albums and one titled "Our New Family: Hospital Pics" next to pictures of you and your friends making kissy faces in your dorm and pissing in alleys. Yeah you're right, Now I guess I'M the asshole.

Megan,
I heard that men who have strange obsessions with felines are generally pedophiles with daddy issues. Is this true?

No, and jeez lay off a guy for once. You have one family cat growing up and all of a sudden people love to label you as the crazy widow down the street that wears sweaters in July or some closeted psychopath that wants to lure the UPS guy into their apartment so they can kill them and turn their skin into lamp shades. I truly don't understand the indignation people have for cats or people who own one. It seems to me that everyone who hates cats does so because they yanked some cat's tail when they were young and got scratched on their hand. And if I suggest that maybe, just maybe, I'm not a huge dog person then all of a sudden I'm some fucking jihadist.

Wanna know the greatest part about cats? They leave you the fuck alone. They don't come running around knocking shit over begging for attention, they don't make any noise, and they take care of themselves. Occasionally they catch mice, but usually they just lay around all day in a warm spot, and let you go about your much more important human being business. Any mongoloid that will try to defend themselves by saying that dogs are a man's best friend is someone that probably doesn't have very many fucking friends.

"But you don't understand, my dog loves me! He's waiting for me as soon as I get home every day". Eat shit. Your dog gives you attention because it knows you are the thing that feeds it, and the reason its waiting for you to come home every day is probably because its been confined to your shitty apartment all afternoon and the only thing its been able to do today was destroy your nice shoes. My family's cat never destroyed a pair of alligator-skin loafers, I know that for a goddamn fact. Something tells me that if Shiloh was as smart as you think then he wouldn't have taken a shit in the middle of the living room carpet. Jusssss sayin. So lay off people who have cats. Unless you see me on Animal Hoarding I think its safe to say that my choice of an incredibly low maintenance pet doesn't make me a serial killer. No, the fact that I'm sitting in a tree outside of your bedroom window waiting for you to fall asleep makes a serial killer. Oh yeah, and if you're the kind of person that owns a chihuahua or any other lapdog that you dress up in retarded outfits for your amusement, then I hope you catch leprosy and slowly fall apart one appendage at a time.

Johnny Mustard Biscuits,
May I add that Helen Keller is entirely made up. She is as fictional as the Easter Bunny, Santa Claus, and Muhammed. How can a person who was born blind and death learn to speak??? If anyone can give me a rational explanation im all ears. Helen Keller is a fictional character to give people with severe disabilities false hope. If you are disabled and you need an inspiring story I suggest you watch sling blade because Karl Childress is a true American disabled hero. MMMM I LIKE THE WAY YOU TALK

Ahh Mustard Biscuits, how wonderful it is to hear from you. Even though the topic you inquire about wasn't really presented in the form of a question, I will address it anyway because its both closeminded and ignorant, and I LOVE IT.

I hate the Helen Keller story more and more every time I think about it. She has always been protrayed as the bastion of overcoming difficulties and accomplishing great achievement in the face of setbacks and adversity, but I call bullfeathers. Helen Keller was a blind/deaf woman who overcame her physical disabilities and went on to become the first deaf/blind person to graduate with a bachelor's degree. She also went on to work for political issues such as women's suffrage and worker's rights (alledgedly) How she did this without the ability to see, hear, or communicate with others? Simple answer: she didn't, its all malarkey.

Keller had been blind and deaf since she was 18 months old. It is believed that Helen Keller's personal teacher Annie Sullivan was able to teach her to read and begin the formation of her communication abilities by putting a doll in Keller's hand and spelling out D-O-L-L on her hand with water. Yeah, that makes total sense. Helen was probably thinking "Uhh who the fuck is poring water on me, this person needs to stop getting my hands all wet" but of course it was probably more like "Amrlnhorjhipuertbkngtojsmhhhhhhhh" considering she doesnt know how to speak and all. I highly doubt that while this little exercize was going on she thought to herself "Maybe shes trying to teach me how to spell the name of the thing she put in my hand?", mostly because she has no idea what spelling is, what words are, or probably even what a doll is. Just to give this a little perspective, when I was 18 months I'm pretty sure I had absolutely no fuicking clue what was going on. My mom most likely played with me and addressed me in that Mommy-Baby talk (which is undeniably annoying) and fed me every day while calling herself "mommy" right in front of my face. My ability to recognize who she is, and after hearing her tell me that she was my mother for a long enough during the early formative time in my development, I probably had a pretty easy time figuring shit out. It probably also helped aout a whole lot that I had eyes and ears, and they fucking worked. Without those I would've just been an incredibly loud and annoying, pink, shitting machine.

"Doll" - Yeah she must be trying to tell me what thins thing in my hand is, because I obviously know what the fuck she's talking about. A girl that has been blind and deaf since infacy, with no rememberance of the world pre-deaf/blind, wouldn't just have a difficult time learning icommunication skills, it would be undeniably impossible. It would be impossible for the simple fact that she cannot receive information from others, let alone have a way of connecting that information to something tangible that could possibly give them meaning.
If I was rendered deaf and blind at an age where I was still shitting myself multiple times a day, I thinks it would be fair to deduce that I probably would never be able to grow developmentally. Eventually my sense of touch/feel would alert me to the fact that when my bowels were distressed and soon after I felt a hot steaming mess in between my asscheeks, I would "learn" that it was a daily function and would come to understand it on a basic level. Besides that, i wouldn't have much of a chance.

Feel good story? Sure! Inspirational? You betcha! True? No dice, sugartits. Its 2011, and I think its about time that we, collectively as a group, drop the "Helen Keller grew up to be a college graduate and an inspiration to millions" because its....errr...uhhh....bullshit. You're right Biscuits, Helen Keller is a farce. She was a creation to give 4th grade girls something to write biography reports about besides Eleanor Roosevelt and that bulldyke Helen Thomas. FACT


And just for you...

The rest of your questions will be answered in Part Deux

Over and Out Ghostrider,
SBB

Guest Blogger: gettin' Jiggy With The End Of The World

Today SBB welcomes its first guest blogger, and I assure you this privelage does not come by easy. Jesse Ford has requested an opportunity to drop knowledge on you mofos. Today's topic; musings on the Mayan Apocalypse and the man who may just save your life. mark your calendars, just two more years until the Day of Reckoning bitches.










12/21/2010

First and foremost, I would like to express my gratitude to Snoop Bloggy Blog for allowing me to drop knowledge on all of you unsuspecting, apathetic, and poorly prepared readers.

As I’m sure is common practice for many others in our society, I prefer to fall asleep while watching television at night. I have become very adept at using the sleep timer, and find it easier to relax my mind and fall into my nightly dreams with the television’s presence. In trying to sleep, I purposely do not watch any programming that I find overly interesting or captivating that may keep me awake, such as SVU re-runs or MTV reality shows. Instead, I choose to turn on shows on CNN and/or the Discovery and History channels. While watching such programming can often times be mentally stimulating, I rarely fail to fall asleep after an extended period of time. With one notable exception.

One evening as I was retiring to my bed, I flipped past a special on one of the aforementioned channels and was unable to sleep for hours that night, and unable to sleep comfortably for weeks after the fact.

**Side note: who cares what channel it really was and what the name of the program was. People don’t really enjoy shows on the Discovery Channel; they like the idea of watching that Discovery Channel so they can attempt to show others how intellectual they are (notable exception: Cash Cab. It doesn’t hold a proverbial candle to Jeopardy, but an enjoyable show). “Yeah, I don’t even watch TV. Those reality shows on MTV are stupid. I pretty much only watch the educational stuff on the Discovery Channel because it’s interesting.” Go F*** yourself, ‘Discovery Channel guy.’ If you can honestly tell me that you would rather watch some douche bag roll around in animal shit on Dirty Jobs than see Snookie get punched in the face by some drunk guy on Jersey Shore, then you are a moron and lead an extremely boring and uninteresting life.**

Anyway, I got caught into a special about all of the “myths” and “rumored phenomenon” about the potential end of the world as we know it on December 21st, 2012. I will spare you with all of the details about what can/will happen in two years from now, because that is what Wikipedia is for. Just know that we are going down. There are too many coincidences and theories out there from proven sources (newsflash: the Mayans and Nostradamus haven’t ever really been wrong about anything. Ever).With this, I thought I should mentally prepare the readers of SBB and allow them to prepare accordingly for the end of civilization.

First and foremost, I highly recommend that people prepare their personal bucket lists of things they want to do before the world ends (my personal top 5 you ask? 5.) Live in South America 4.) Buy something really nice for my parents to show my everlasting gratitude 3.) Punch Jay Cutler in the dick 2.) Appear in a rap music video 1.) Make out with Annie Griffin). Get your bucket list made as quickly as possible and do all you can do accomplish the goals you get out for yourself soon; you only have two years.

(Allow SBB to interject for a moment: There will be not dick-punching of All-The-Way Jay)

After making and planning to execute your bucket list, it is never too early to begin planning for the chaos that will ensue two years from now. While there are many theories out there on just how chaotic things will get, none of which can be trusted significantly more than the other, it is vital that people are aware that anything is possible when discussing the end of the world. Because of this, I have made plans that will coincide with the adaptation that may prove to be necessary.

(Uhhh, Jesse, maybe you should've asked John Cusack what the deal was, he made a documentary about this after all...)

After saying goodbye to my family and closest friends in early December of 2012 (who will probably going about their normal lives like the naïve people that they are), I will make my way to California, and as the date of destruction nears, I will do as best as I possibly can to be in the direct vicinity of an individual that has been trained and actively participated in adverse situations and dealt with many (if not all) of the potential problems that one can expect on 2012. That person is known as Willard Christopher Smith.


Will Smith can and will cover a lot of bases concerning the potential looming disasters. Throughout his career, he has successfully dealt with the following scenarios that I have considered possible two years down the road.

If the human species goes completely extinct, I would trust Will (I Am Legend). If there were to be an alien take over, I would trust Will (Independence Day, Men in Black I and II). If there was a Robot takeover and anarchy, I would trust Will (I, Robot). If there were to be issues with drug dealers (Bad Boys I and II) and/or Western Outlaws (Wild Wild West), I would trust Will. If I needed organs (Seven Pounds), I would trust Will. If I faced extreme poverty (The Pursuit of Happiness) or could not attain the affection of the girl I am madly in love with (Annie Griffin…. I mean Hitch), I would trust Will.

All of the above scenarios could come into play in 2012, and all in all there is no other individual I would prefer to guide and accompany me upon the disaster that will go down. If Jeff Goldblum, Eva Mendes, or his dog from I Am Legend (oh wait, he got killed by aliens) are around as well, I’m not mad about it.

(I'll take Carleton over these schoolboy bitches any day...)



Note that I only discussed his movie career above. I did not even begin to mention his role in The Fresh Prince of Bel Air or the musical genius he created known as Big Willie Style (EVERYONE’s first album owned in elementary school. That, or the Spacejam soundtrack) or Willenium. I also felt no need to mention his accomplishments as a husband and father. If Will Smith is in fact, God, is Jaden Smith in turn Jesus Christ, the Messiah? I’m not sure, but if I were to see him walk on water I cannot say that I would be surprised.

(Blasphemy!)

Will Smith is one of the very few people who have the capability to save me from the impending end of the world in two short years, and I could not be happier with the fact that I already have the insight to recognize this and plan ahead for my survival. Willard Christopher Smith has been and will continue to be one of the most accomplished individuals in the world, and I could not be more comfortable in putting my fate in his hands upon civilization’s potential destruction.

You now have two full years to come up with your own plan. Since I have already called “dibbs” on Will Smith, I wish the rest of you the best of luck. To the best of my knowledge, Tom Cruise is still available for all of your salvation needs.

Regards,

Jesse A. Ford

Musings on the Blind, Deaf, and Busty, with Masturbatorial Undertones

Mailbag: Episode 3 coming in the next edition of SBB, so take an active role in your blog experience and post a question, and don't just send me a picture of your nuts (I'm talking you you Jesse)

Maybe you have noticed but I haven't been attacking the blog-sphere as often as I used to. I'd like to blame this on the fact that my new(ish) job requires a considerable amount of focus. Not that my new job is excruciatingly hard, but considering that I could have trained a dolphin to do my old accounting job, its certainly a step up in the responsibility department. The downside; I don't get to blow off entire afternoons to devote to ejaculating 2000+ words of genius into your eyes. My lack of free time at work has led to a deficiency in inspiring material, alas I do not have many long blowhard-y gripes to offer you. But what I have been lacking in a serious muse I have found in some odd observations as of late that I have found really puzzling. I think you all know this by now so it goes without saying that there are some truly unspeakable things that drift through my mind because I'm strangely perverted wildly imaginative. Oh well, let's go exploring into my observations.

Living and working in a metropolis like Chicago, not a day goes by where you don't see something totally fucking odd. Over the last few weeks I haven't been able to help but notice that there are a ton of blind people just strolling the streets of Chicago. I'm not joking, I see like 5 blind people every day, They're fucking everywhere. What could these people possibly be doing? I know they don't exactly get sent to a farm for the blind, but I just see what kind of plans these guys could have possibly made for that day. "Hey guys, what are you guys doing today? Oh that sounds like fun, but does it involve your eyes? Oh it does, shit. I guess I'll just catch you guys later, being that I'm blind an all". To be walking around the Loop at 7:30 am suggests to me that they have jobs, which I find both remarkable and baffling at the same time. What was that job interview like? "Well sir, what are your strengths?"..."Uh well I'd say my resiliency, considering I made it to this interview on time and my fucking eyes don't work". Obviously a lifetime of being blind has forced them to find other ways to get acclimated to the world around them, but I almost get hit by a bus or a cab every afternoon and I have eyes like a god damn hawk, so the fact that blind guys aren't getting smashed in the middle of the street daily is miraculous to me. Perhaps the one thing that has definitely dawned on me now that I have begun to notice these mobs of blind people, is that being blind must totally fucking suck, suck way more than being deaf.

Speaking of deaf people, why do they all talk like Charlie Brown's teacher with a mouth full of Novocaine? I get it, you can't hear yourself, but someone needs to sign to you that you're talking like a dumbass. Seriously, spit it out mush-mouth. The other day at work some lady started talking to me and at first I had no idea what she was saying. I was immediately thinking to myself, "Holy shit, either this lady has the worst sinus infection of all time or shes legitimately fucking deaf". In her defense, it is cold season, but I was so confused that I'm pretty sure I made a face at her that suggested that my mother huffed chemicals from under the kitchen sink while she was pregnant with me. I didn't know if I was supposed to speak really slowly and obnoxiously mouth my words like I have to with my 89 year old grandpa or just nod like a putz. What if I did that and she wasn't deaf? I was going to look like the world's biggest retard. I totally panicked, and ended up saying "okey dokey" giving her a thumbs up, and walking back to my desk feeling like an idiot. So yeah, fuck you too, deaf people.

I started writing this post during the Victoria's Secret fashion show, and I'm going to assume you all were watching as well, because... uhh... why the fuck wouldn't you be? What are you in Al-Qaeda or something? I'd be willing to bet that even the blind people I was making fun of earlier were whacking it. Either way, if you missed it go ahead and do your genitals a solid and watch it online. Honestly, I know we all have busy schedules but if you can read my misogynistic and racist blog then I find it hard to believe you make time in your day to watch arguably the ten most physically perfect women on the planet walk around in their underwear and high heels. I'm sure even the gays love this thing for all the foofy-poofy outfits and makeup, and whatever gay guys like besides bulges. See, there is fun to be had by all!



As if I needed any more reason to watch the Victoria's Secret fashion show, it featured multiple performances by my favorite set of singing tits, Katy Perry. As you probably already know, this blog is loosely dedicated to my perverted obsession with KP, but honestly this might be the greatest thing since sliced bread, and loaves of bread before that. I went to private school so I know I'm smart enough to tell the difference between reality and Hollywood fiction, but as of right now I'm convinced that CBS is run by Leo DiCaprio and that turd from 3rd Rock From the Sun, because after putting Katy Perry's chesticles and Victoria's Secret angels on one stage I feel like someone just Inception-ed my wet dreams.

Just a few observations I made while watching and concurrently trying not to paint my shorts a dull shade of white (c'mon I was drinking skim milk I swear!) seeing KP and the Victoria's Secret angles on stage. First of all, the CBS cameraman was getting rather gratuitous with the closeups on Katy's boobs, helping to make me believe that I was somehow controlling the camera's focus with my mind and/or penis. Secondly, all these girls are gorgeous, but who invited the asian chick? This is going to sound racist no matter how I put it so I'm just going to go for it; I understand that this was done to appeal to a wider audience, but let's be honest, my boner has no understanding of political correctness. Not that she wasn't attractive, but **spoiler alert: irrational comparison** its just like when our grade school math books would have a picture on the cover of a paraplegic kid in a wheelchair standing around with her friends as their about to play double-dutch jump rope. Its like Forrest Gump's mother used to say; "Sometimes...people do things that just don't make no sense".

As I'm watching this amazing display of all the things I picture when I'm home alone with my Jergen's, I can't help but feel conflicted. I'd like to think that I have had my fair share of delightful sexual encounters in my day, but as I'm marveled at how absolutely gorgeous these women are, I can't help but feel like I have truly achieved nothing thus far. And the fact that some guitar playing sleazes and French guys who wear scarves during August gets to make some old fashioned penis-and-vagina action with these women legitimately hurts my feelings. I feel like Will Hunting's math teacher when he realizes that even though he teaches at MIT, he will likely never achieve what some dirty, ungrateful, schlub can do in his sleep. Alas, woe is me.

I'm not even sure what I would do if I got to the chance to touch one of these women naked though. I'd cut off my own thumb to get KP to let me try to put a baby in her belly, and then subsequently do some pretty sick, yet imaginative sexual acts with my severed thumb, but what would I be like afterward? Part of me thinks that I would force myself to lie down in traffic because no other experience in life could ever hold a candle to that; life would be a constant rainy day. But on the other hand, maybe my life post-coitus with KP would somehow take on some new cosmic importance. Maybe burying myself in her mammary abundance would somehow open my eyes to all the previously unseen beauty in this world. I don't know, I'll let you know when it happens.

In the meantime I want you loyal followers to know that SBB has a new obsession candidate (spots currently or previously filled by Katy Perry, Olivia Wilde, and Kathy Bates). Her name is Erin Heatherton, she's a Victoria's secret angel, and she makes my bathing suit area feel funny.

She is currently giving Iron Mike Tyson a run for his money in SBB's favorite boxer category. She's nice, I want to touch her.

As I Stated before, I'm inviting you take participate in your blogging experience and taking questions for Mailbag Pt. 3, so feel free to ask away, but don't think I'm going to answer any questions about those dick pics I "allegedly" texted many of you. Screw you, you don't have any proof.

SBB out

Not Impressed Part Deux: Chilean Miners

So last Friday I started what would evolve into a two part diatribe about things these days that get a shit-ton of attention, yet do not impress me in the least. You may think that this just the incessant griping of a narrow minded ass who refuses to give credit where credit is due. However I will have you know that I prefer the term "rational skeptic". Either way, the focus today will be everybody's favorite feel-good story of the fall, the Chilean Miners.

First of all, let's just establish the fact that being a miner probably sucks a whole lot of ass. I say "probably" because even though I have never been actually been a miner, I do remember after one particular episode of my adolescence where I was most certainly acting like a piece of shit, my father told me that if I didn't feel like pulling my weight at school that I could go work in a *swear word abbreviated with M-F*-ing mine and see how much I like it. The message didn't really resonate, because as fate would have it I grew up to be that same piece of shit but with more consistent facial hair, however the message I loosely gathered from my father's expletive laced lecture was that I actually wouldn't want to be a miner, because being a miner fucking sucks. Being a miner sucks for a number of reasons; your job is to get shipped into caves and deep holes to dig up expensive shit that you don't get to keep. Its dark, presumably stinky, and particularly dangerous. On top of the backbreaking work for little pay, it also sucks to be a miner because most of them have unreasonable curfews, you need parental consent for just about everything fun, you can't buy ciggarettes, and adults naturally never really take you seriously. It really sucks being a miner! (homophone joke, check)

Now that we've established that it sucks to have to be a miner, let's break down what makes the story so unimpressive to me. These 33 copper miners spent 69 days trapped almost a half mile underground. This particular mine was a safety inspector's wet dream, and 8 workers have died on site since 1998. What I find odd about the whole story is that everyone forgets to mention that these 33 idiots got their dumb asses stuck in a fucking hole for more than two months. I've done a lot of stupid shit in my short existence, for example once I dropped the family cat down our laundry chute just to scare my poor mother (success), but I never got myself stuck 2000+ feet below the surface of the earth. Going one half mile into the ground and using giant tools to violently shake the earth above you when every safety inspector and their mother has deemed the mine completely unsafe, is, actually a really stupid thing to do. You may think that it wasn't really up to them to decide because it was an essential function of their job, but I think that claim could be easily refuted by pointing out that they maybe they should have chose not to work in a fucking mine. "Well Chile has an enormous mining industry that represents about 1/3 of their national income, and thus employs a significant amount of Chilean natives". Hmmm, well then maybe those guys should have had the foresight not to be born in Chile. How's that for logic? Eat your fucking heart out Socrates.

No matter how you choose to look at it, these guys, adults mind you, spent 69 straight days dicking around in a hole. You know what happens if an American kid spent a prolonged amount of time sitting in a hole? The kid's parents get a call from his school counselor telling them that their son is going to start getting picked up in a considerably shorter bus in the morning.

We were constantly being informed as to the developments of the rescue efforts, and how the 33 men trapped beneath a half mile of earth were doing. What we forget to mention is they got to spend 69 straight days presumably not working. 69 days in a row with no work? Under any other circumstances that's called taking the summer off. Not half bad if you ask me, especially when you think about the fact that they probably haven't had a day off in a long time, being that their Chilean and whatnot. Also, its not as if these guys were trapped on a mountaintop and forced to eat the weak and wounded, they were pretty much just hanging out. While they were down there they were able to watch DVD's and Chilean soccer games on a 50 inch projection screen all day. Literally, that's not even a joke. Where I come from that's called Saturday. And, amongst many other things that were sent down to them from the surface was a set of speakers and iPods so they could listen to and enjoy their Ricky Martin or whatever. (But Joe, these guys are from Chile, Ricky Martin is from Puerto Rico! Chilean, Puerto Rican, its all just semantics. You say buh-ree-toe, I say buh-rih-toe). 69 days in a mine, where the daily routine consisted of A.) not having to mine shit, which we have already established tends to suck, and B.) spending said days off listening to music and watching DVD's and soccer games. Sounds like a vacation to me. Now a lot of people would say that being stuck in a copper mine away from your loved ones and in constant darkness isn't exactly an ideal vacation, but for fuck's sake these 33 guys aren't exactly the Kennedy's either. Its not like they're used to hopping a jet to Acapulco for a week of fun in the sun and swimming with dolphins, they work in a fucking mine in Chile. Its really easy to see being stuck 2,000+ feet below the earth as a terrible thing, but let's nto forget that there are some perks, few but substatial, to living in subterreanean mine. First of all, they didn't need to worry about getting melanoma, which is comforting because it happens to cause more than 3/4ths of skin cancer related deaths. What a relief. In addition, these Chilean miners didn't have to worry about catching bed bugs (yucky) or getting mugged along the roads by masked banditos.

I think the reason why I am so frustrated with these dickheads is because it has become pretty clear that they're all going to get fucking rich from this. Before they were even on the surface peolpe were already sending them ridiculous amounts of free shit. Steve Jobs sent them all iPads, because that's totally practical and all. So far over 15 professional sports teams have asked them to be their guests at games. I can only assume that Ernesto or Osvaldo is a big Philadelphia 76ers fan (I made that up). Its only a matter of time until someone gets a book deal, and people pretend to be captivated by their survival story again so they can justify buying that Kindle they barely ever use. You'll never catch me reading it, and ya know why? Because it will probably be in Spanish, that's why, duh. To be honest this whole thing reeks of Sully Sullenberger, the US Airways pilot deemed a hero in 2008 for landing a commercial airliner in the Hudson River after the engines were damaged by a flock of birds. He reached hero status, promptly retired from the airline, appeared as a guest at sporting events, wrote a book, and now makes a ton of cash as a motivational speaker. Essentially, this guy got paid for having a select few moment s of clear-headed resolve. What he should have done was not hit a fucking flock of birds, a pretty essential and fundemental task if you want to be a commercial airline pilot. People were so astonished that he was able to get his shit together for a minute and land the plane in the Hudson, which may I remind you is 4,700 feet wide. Taking out the space occupied by the plane, landing in the Hudson River gave him a margin of error wider than 86% of a mile. Phew!

All I'm saying is that I'm not exactly blown away by your resilience when you got your own dumb asses stuck in a fucking hole deep beneth the surface of the Earth. I'm even less impressed by your resilience and will to survive when you got to fiddledick around for 69 straight days, listening to iPods and watching soccer games on a 50 inch projection screen. Plus,, I'm glad you couldn't mine any more copper, because copper makes pennies, and pennies are annoying and make your hands smell gross. So guess what Chilean Miners, not that impressed.

Not That Impressed Part 1: Marathon Runners

Are you there internet? It's me, Joe.

I started this post last week but I had to edit it for the sake of brevity, and because before I finished it I saw something else equally as unimpressive getting ass-tons of attention. Thus, I decided to shorten them and turn them into one solitary post. You're going to come out as as the winner on this because I know how you kiddies eat up my ignorant griping like Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Now I must warn you, this post might just make you think I'm a pretentious asshole, but hey, the egg's on your face because I am. I'm joking, but seriously.

Like I stated before last week I bore witness to two groups of people receiving outpourings of affection from the masses, and I couldn't help but say to myself, "eh, not that impressed". And since I'm a part time blogger and full time dickhead, I decided to write a little bit about it. I don't expect to you to side with me 100%, because society says that would make you a total shitbag, but I find it hard to believe that you can totally dissagree with my following sentiments.

Last Monday I found myself feeling the more unimpressed than I have in a long time. The day before, thousands of people came together for the annual running of the Chicago Marathon. Why was it that I saw an almost uncountable amount of people walking around the city in the t-shirt they got from participating in the race. Dude we get it, you ran the marathon, but now its time you got over yourself. I can't help but think that the people walking around with their free marathon shirt the very next day afterward happen to be the very same people that shoved the fact down everyone's throat in the months leading up to it. My biggest gripe with marathon runners is that they would like you to think that by completing marathon they are either a superior person to you, or a superior athlete. To which I reply, "No Col. Sanders, you're wrong!".

Now don't get me wrong, running 26.2 miles no matter your time is a feat that I can respect, but what I don't respect is the smug, self-involved attitude that so often comes with it. "Hey guys, did you hear I'm running the marathon this year?". Yeah I think I remember some of the hundred times you casually dropped that tidbit into conversation. It was also kinda hard to miss all the obnoxious Facebook status updates you posted like, "Ugghhh, terrible day at work and now I have to run 15 miles :( ". Which reminds me, if you chose to train and run a marathon you probably should keep the complaints to a minimum.

I had plenty of friends that ran and hats off to all of them because, as I said before its a comendable physical challenge, but let's not get ahead of ourselves and call it significant. You know what would make it significant? If you won the marathon, that would get a great congratulations from me. However, seeing as though you are not some Kenyan guy, you're just Frankie Fuckface who just decided to run because he thought it would be cool, you're going to get very little out of me. I get it, you pushed yourself to your physical limit, but so did 41,000 other people, and that was just on a Sunday. A lot of people would say that I'm missing the point, and that its about pushing themselves to their personal best, But if that was the case then why are the same people constantly talking about it. If it was just about pushing yourself then why is it necessary for everyone and their mother to know ou ran the fucking marathon? I don't even really want to get started on the amount of time you dedicted to this whole thing; the fact that most, if not all of you spent such an exorbitant amount of time training for this race baffles me. I simply cannot justify spending that much time every day just running, and anyone who can has been eating retard-burgers. I dont know exactly what I did with all the time I was not training for the marathon, but I guarantee it was way more productive, even if all I was doing was playing with sock puppets in my apartment and making up songs about my penis. Don't snicker, that right is afforded to my as an American.

 Another aspect of the marathon runner buttfuck-a-palooza are the people that guilt you into supporting them because they are running for a cause. I just don't feel as though I should have to give you money just because you don't have any discernable hobbies. "Hey did you hear I'm running the marathon for Lupus research?". Yeah I heard you the other 1000 times you mentioned it, and I still don't care enough to even google what lupus is. If I cared at all about either you or the cause I would just ask you where I can donate money, but you wouldn't want that, because then you wouldn't be able to put all the focus on yourself. Listen dude, you aren't Forrest Gump, don't tell me you were all of a sudden overcome with the urge to just go run, and (insert charity here) was that reason. Don't get me wrong, I'm in no way saying you shouldn't support a charitable cause, but don't make it my burden just because you decided you wanted to run the marathon, because that's selfish and I learned in preschool that being selfish gets a free admission to the time out chair. It's not that they're running for a charity, its that they have the whole idea backwards; the concept of running to support anything, is that you're participation in the event is supposed to draw people's attention to the cause, but from what I have gathered, an overwhelming amount of said people run for a charity so that a larger group of friends and colleagues with commend them for running in a hard race. Essentially, if you decided to use the veil of a charity to draw attention to the fact that you voluntarily elected to run the marathon then you my friend, are a supreme piece of shit.

I have always found it strange that people think they need to go do something extreme to get obligate others to give money or attention to something, and I think this is especially true when it comes to marathons. Since I was in kindergarten I have participated in sports, and over that period of time I have realized that for the most part, running fucking sucks. Running is what coaches made kids like me do for dicking around at practice, fucking up, and just acting like a shithead in general. I always wondered why people would just run as their athletic activity, but then it dawned on me; running is a great sport for people who conveniently suck at sports. Now I'm not saying you aren't an athlete if all you do is run, no far from it, being a runner and an athlete are certianly not mutually exclusive. All I'm saying is that my sister ran Track and Cross Country in High School and she is possibly the slowest and least athletic person I know. Whatever, that's beside the point. Running a marathon is great and all, but don't for a minute think that it makes you better than me at anything. I even saw people wearing their marathon medals to work. You know what that say to me? "hey everyone look at me, I'm really good at running for long periods of time without stopping!" Well ya know what else that makes you good at? Being a fucking dork. Marathon runner? Not impressed.

You know what's impressive? That mofo Karl malone


Ridiculous 1980's music Video of the day


Not Impressed Part Deux coming soon
SSB

Someone Needs To Go Back To Rhet/Comp

 This picture has nothing to do with my post, but for some reason when I look at it my pants fit a little more snug and I suddenly feel like I really have to pee. Who knows?

Bathroom Breakdown

For those of you who have had the pleasure of knowing me you may vaguely remember, and in fact would be hard pressed to forget the fact that fart jokes and potty humor seemingly consume my attention. I know, shocking right? This coming from the guy who once described in vivd detail, watching one of his best friends expell liquid poo from his ass off of a 2nd story balcony. Never in a million years!

Poop, feces, doodoo, shit, farts, sharts, diarrhea, crap sandwiches. You're either picturing it in your head or making the noise right now. I don't care what anyone else says because if you deny it you're a liar. It really doesn't matter how ma-tuuure you think you are, poop related activity produces a chuckle at the least (Except when stepped in or found in your food, and in which case poop is similar to plane crashes or herpes; its still funny to everyone except the involved party). Now coming towards the end of my 24th year of existence I can safely say with the utmost confidence in my mastery of mathematics that poop=laughs. No pun intended but certainly applicable, "That shit is funny".

However I think sometimes I forget one of the main aspects of bathroom humor, and that is the bathroom itself. I have so many memories of goofs-a-plenty happening in various bathrooms in my past. I'm not talking about a women's bathroom, because for all I know there could be a German discoteca in those things. I do think that before continuing I must make a very important distinction; public vs. private bathrooms.

For men at least, private bathrooms serve a number of purposes; its really our library, command center, and place of contemplation and relaxation all wrapped into one. Its our special place...our special place that we poop in. Public bathrooms are a completely different bird. As I have pointed out in numerous posts as well as overall life experiences, the word "public", especially when placed in front of a noun, usually can be substitued for "fucking gross". Ergo, public bathrooms typically follow suit. Although having to bear the brunt of what naturally goes along with the public moniker, there is an upside to a bathroom shared with the masses; a lot more funny things happen in a public bathroom.

Just to start, I'm going to go off on a little anecdotal tangent. I know you're probably thinking to yourself, "A tangent sounds great considering the fact he's clearly dedicated this entire post to poop". Well, in May of '08 I was flying back to Milwaukee but I had a changeover in Minneapolis MN. It was really early in the morning and the airport Minneapolis airport was a relative ghost town, and I found myself incredibly bored waiting for my plane. I decided that I should buy a magazine and flip through a few articles while I drop a deuce. I find the closest bathroom to my gate and go inside. After a short period of time I start to notice an amount of traffic that didn't really go with the relative few people I had previously seen in the terminal. Maybe you remember, maybe you live in a cave but a year prior Idaho Senator Larry Craig had been arrested for soliciting gay sex from an undercover cop in a men's room at an airport. In fact I distintcly remember various news reports referring to the particular bathroom he was caught in as, and I kid you not, "A hotbed of homosexual activity". Let's be honest, that's a PC way of saying "There's a lot of dudes blowing a lot of other dudes in this bathroom". As I'm remembering this I start to get just a little nervous, and I type a text to my a friend that said "Hey, what airport did that Senator get caught trying to get a bj from some guy in a bathroom". All the while the words "hotbed of homosexual activity" keep slamming into my brain. Not 30 seconds later I get a response that says one word, "Minneapolis". In an instant I am wiped, zipped, and out the fucking door. Now, I understand that there's probably hundreds of bathrooms in that airport, and only one of them was deemed High Noon at the BJ Corral, so I was proably being way over-cautious. For the most part I consider myslef a betting man, but you'll never catch me wagering my cornhole, that's a god damned fact. One of many specific instance where my opinion of something "public" is 100% correct.

Anywhoo, let's leave the Minneapolis Mouth Party behind and get back to the esteemed topic of poop and bathrooms. One thing I've noticed in the last few years is the very unique concept of the workplace bathroom. Its a unique hybrid type of public bathroom where only a select few people are allowed to use it, yet its still much different from your private shitter. I have a hard time characterizing it; its not a sanctuary and its not a petri dish, its just...different.

Recently I took a new job and I can't halp but think every day about how odd the bathroom situation is. One particular situation happened the other day; I was sitting in a stall and a co-worker sat down as if to do a No. 2, but all he did was fart and then proceed to take the longest pee I have ever heard. It rivaled Jimmy Dugan's record piss in "A League of Their Own", all while sitting down. I simply could not get over how weird the whole thing was. In this new position I work for a group of fund managers that all make very large scale investment decisions, and tend to make a lot of money doing so. On the other hand I am at the bottom of the food chain and do not make very much money, however once through those bathroom doors, we are equals.

The funny part is, I'm sitting in my stall while the rich men who control this serious atmosphere, all the while these guys are all audibly evacuating their bowels. Enormous morning craps, boisterous farts, and all sorts of other rumblings are going on, and for some reason I feel complelled to hold back. I've already established that poop and farts are hysterical and always will be, but yet I don't dare let out a laugh. I'm dying in the stall holding in laughter that is ripping at my sides. I ask myself every day why I can't get past my feeling that I need to silence my giddy childlike glee as I listen to guys these guys uncork a symphony of ass. But then one day it hit me; its not like anyone in the company is deaf, and when there are 4 guys in the bathroom that means everyone must hear every single grunt, splash, squirt, and sweet sigh of relief. This can really only mean one thing, everybody in there is holding back from bursting out laughing just like I am.

I think that may even make the whole thing even funnier imagining 4 grown men all holding in schoolboy laughter while the listen to their respected colleagues take nasty shits. Maybe knowing that we're not supposed to laugh is what makes the whole thing so fucking hysterical. In a way its sort of like how everything is exponentially funnier when you're with your classmates in church; knowing your friend next to you might burst out before you do is half the fun.

So next time you're in a work bathroom go ahead and feel free to throw caution to the wind and blast that toilet with all your might, because, let's be honest, "That shit is funny".



See Ya Internet,
SBB