2 Inches Of Fury

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Safe for Work Porn

This is the funniest shit.


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Playboy

This might be a little on the racey side with this particular topic but I was watching an episode of Reno 911 where Deputy Junior said that he writes to Playboy all the time and never has his letters published. I don’t actually own a playboy magazine to tell you what sort of literary genius comes out of those mags but if I had to make a letter, it would go something like this:

Yo Heff, youz won’t beleeve wat happened to me.
I was at this bar and this chick comes up to me and we start talking and she likes all the same things I like - football, baseball (’cause Americans eat Baseball up or if Canadian, Ice hockey), getting drunk, doing push ups and eating 10 pounds of steak.
We decide to go back to my place for “coffee”. That’s the line I always use and she is like, “Coffee? I don’t drink coffee.”
And I was all like, “How bout tea?”
And she is all like, “I don’t drink tea.”
And I was like, “How about a nigh cap - rum, bourbon, vodka?”
And she was like, “We could. OR we could go back to your place for session.”
And I was like, “I don’t do heroin.”
And she was like, “…of love-making.”

Sold.

So we get back to my place and things get heated and I am doing her doggy. That’s now how I planned things but that’s how she passed out. After the roofie wore off and a couple of lies later, things were awesome. All of a sudden she says to me with extreme urgency and unyielding force, “STICK IT IN MY ARSE!!”
Well, who am I judge?
Anyway, it turns out she was transvestite.

The beard should have been the dead give away.

Sure it is not a gang bang or a 3-way, but the least Playboy could do is give me $500 for my troubles.

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Best and Worst

Douglas Colvin better known as Dee Dee Ramone (AKA Dee Dee King) wrote one of the best and worst albums of all time.
baw_ddking.jpg
“Standing in the Spotlight” (released in 1988) is a sad attempt at a punk who is tries to pull off rap. And fails miserably. Who really should have stuck to punk but at this stage of the Ramones career, it wasn’t going as great as what it once was. Their last two albums (”Animal Boy” and “Halfway to Sanity”) consisted of 4 good songs in total with Dee Dee Ramone leaving after, “Brain Drain”) containing another two songs of some worth. After 3 albums in the late 80s, they’ve managed to have almost half an album of songs of some worth.

One song on this album (”The Crusher”) even made it to a Ramones album (Adios Amigos) eventually.

Then William Shatner (best known as Captain Kirk from Star Trek and Danny Crane from Boston Legal) did an album which I must find - “The Transformed Man”. This is genius. He is all serious but really is one giant joke. On this premise alone, allmusic give it 4.5 stars. I would too.
baw_wshat.jpg

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Happy New Years

Last night was New Years eve. It was a small gathering which involved a few friends having a half-arsed game of poker and watching, “Death Proof” - 1hr 10 minutes of EXTREMELY boring dialogue and 10 maybe 15 minutes of something worth watching.

Beamsy brought sausages which was given for free from his Christmas party about 2-3 weeks ago which have been frozen which should be ok with Sonja and I brought Nachos which I consumed along with 8 or 9 bourbons (which I pour double strength and then some). I have a sneaking suspicion there was something not quite right with those sausages. Add that with Nachos and booze, and you have a potential bomb ready to go off at any moment.

What led me to this conclusion was at about 2:30AM I got woken up by the curdling sounds of my stomach and the instant need to hang a shit. The race was now on. It was dark but I didn’t care. I had my mind focused. A wrong move and I could be shittin in a walk in cupboard and Pat does not need a roomate complaining about how he went to a party on New Years Eve only to find out the next day some one pushed brown all over their wardrobe. By this stage, I would have ran on hot coals to get to the can.

I got there just in time to drop trou. The result being like emptying the last bit in a condament bottle. The spray action you get from emptying the last of the tomato/ketchup sauce was exactly how I was in a cramped, fetal position (arse first) on the toilet. This was the nastiest shit you have ever heard/smelt or any other sensory being offended in the same manner. And it continued for 20 minues. I am surprised this did not wake the house.

To the Seismologists who read my blog on a frequent basis, if you got a heavy reading on the richter scale around about 2:31AM EST on new years eve, that was me.

Once I was done, it gave me a euphoric feeling as if this shit was the equivelant of an orgasm. I was so tired from the amount of energy required to do a shit of magnitude that I fell asleep on the toilet for 20 minutes. After I woke up, I needed 8 rolls of date roll to clean up the mess and even industrial strength toilet cleaner could not undo the damage that was done.

To make matters worse; about 8AM I got another rumble in the jungle. Sweet Jesus H. Christ.
This time, I had the age-old question: Is this a fart? Or a shit?
Not quite sure. Should I test the waters?

Nope, definately a shit.

Off I race again back of round 2. Oh right, now I remember last night. Only this time it was like rubbing my arse with curry paste and chilli powder and then shitting shards of glass. This is definately the most painful shit in living memory. A tear rolled down my cheek. Usually this is because I sat on my balls but this time around it only made me realised how dehydrated I was. A human body is made up of 60% water (ref) but this morning, I am sure I was down around 10-15% mark.

I came away from this whole experience a more wise but broken man. Never again will I eat free sausages.
That should have been enough tell tale sign…free.
Never again.

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