Mayo Bandit Caught Bonerniva Cum Bucket at Local Library Drop Box
Gloria Butch Cassidy was captured after dumping a gallon of Bonerniva generated sperm in the local book drop off in Castro, MO. ‘Butch’ was wanted in several other dumpings around the city, including a monstrous 55 gallon barrel of Bonerniva jizz into the local Soup & Salad’s cottage cheese bin.
When asked why, by police, Butch simply said she loved to give things Mayo Showers.
Apparently, the drum of jizz was stolen from the local catholic churches rectrumry. Father O’Toolebox stated that “although the jizz was only a couple days worth, it was still a meaningful part of the churches plans for their pancake supper since it can be used to churn jiz butter.”
In a side note, father O’Toolbox said that because of the shortage of Bonerniva, they will be forced to use Wondercum, which is likely to take several weeks to produce the same quantity as Bonerniva was providing. Start whacking Toolbox.
Wendy’s yanks kids CD from it’s crappy meals.
Wendy’s executives quickly pulled a CD from their kids crappy meal packs because someone complained about the lyrics of certain songs. How someone could complain about lyrics like Peter Gunz’ “Niggers in the Bronx call me Lex cause I push a Lex, and I rock a Rolex and I lounge on Lex’, and I love sex” and Cam’Ron’s “Sometime y’all get crimey crimey, grimy grimy But those with a tiny hiney they get whiny whiny” is beyond comprehension. Who daa tank da r? Whitey is nothin don ya kno.
Wendy’s executives will be releasing a more appropriate CD in the coming week. Songs like Prodigy’s “It’s like fee, fie, foe, fum, I smell the blood of a jealous ass punk.” Much more kid friendly exec’s stated. Who doesn’t like Jackhoff and the BeanPole lyrics?
Guypons by Tampax — it’s for a guy when he is experiencing that delicate time of the month.
Well, it’s bound to happen fellas. Thanks to all the hairless douche bags that women seem to find irresistible, hair is out and manscaping is in. Thus new products can be introduced to the consumer (that’s us), that take full advantage of what is new (just like all the Ipod thingies you spend your money on.)
So, you’re shaving your little coin purse so that perchance some hot little number might get to see your sack of marbles.
When what do you do? You cut your pebble purse . . . Yeeouuuu mother f’er. Needless to say, if you never experienced a sliced grocery bag, it bleeds like Rod Stewart’s asshole after a concert in the Castro District.
Introducing NEW Guypons from Tampax! 
Nuts won’t stop bleeding after the shitty Bic razor sliced a major nardery? Don’t stay home eating a gallon of ice cream while setting on a pile of Charmin, insert a Guypon into your crotch and go play golf, get lap dances, strut your bulge around the mall and impress the teenage girls (until security turns you over to the local authorities.)
So remember our slogan: Cut a Nut, Shove this Up Near Your Butt!
It is also scented so when your having a bad taint day, it does double duty. Now, go out and enjoy the world you bleeding bag of nuts!
Wal*Mart Greeters Will Kick Your Ass
WT FUCK is with Wal*Mart security? Cameras in the parking lots, ceilings, dressing rooms, bathrooms, floors, electrical outlets, your anus… security RFID tags, you name it, they got it. BUT, what is the last line of defense in the fortress of Chinese technology? That old guy/gal standing at the door waiting to tackle the first asshole making a run for the doors with two blu-ray players tucked under his arms like Jim Brown pulling double duty.
Sam Walton doesn’t like kicking ass, but piss him off and you’ll be eating Wal*Mart tarmac.
Paul Washington thought he could juke Walton as he ran from the store carrying two 24 packs of Schlitz Malt Liquor. Walton jumped Washington from behind and rode him like an old mule all the way to his El Camino, where Paul Washington pulled a quick mule stop, throwing the aging greeter to the ground. Suspect Washington, then pummeled the greeter with the smooth drinking Schlitz Malt Liquor cases. Washington would have gotten away, but his tank was siphoned dry in the parking lot by a coyote and his band of merry Mexicans as they headed north.
WTFuck is it with Radio Shack and their goddamn batteries?
Radio Shack used to be the nerds haven for all the crap that we used to purchase to make robots, electronic dice, speaker and dancing light controllers, etc. Now, the only fucking thing they seem to want to do is sell you their fucking batteries!
I go into a local Radio Shit store (sorry, you’re earning that title) to find a replacement DSL modem power adapter and/or a new DSL modem for my brother. Simple request right? Either you have it or you don’t or know how to fix it. As soon as we determine they do not have what we need, they start pushing us to buy some batteries all the way to the front door — literally chasing us down like some power starved battery junkies that really need a fix.
Radio Shit — listen: I/We don’t need your stinking batteries. Fuck, I can buy batteries at 7-11 so what the fuck makes yours so special? Your price is not any lower and if I really need a battery fix, I’ll purchase the hundred pack at Costco for half what you charge. Stop turning your sales people into Alkaline Juice Pushers and let them do what they do best, being nerds that help nerds.
Discovery channels Mythbusters forum in one word: SUCKS
As much as I enjoy our Mythbusters show, Adam, and Jamie, their forum for people to post suggested myths is the worst forum on the internet. The forum software they are using, Social Strata, looks like a high school computer calls cobbled it together on a summer school project. Yet, that is not the worst of it, it’s fan based nimrods that troll the site are the most obnoxious ASSHOLES on the planet.
If you want to have some fun, just post a message and wait a day for the little trolls to come out and start belittling the poster. No answers, no HI Welcome to the site, no information, just a bunch of dweebs setting in their moms basement masturbating to Kid Rock videos, eating Twinkies, and trolling posters to tell them they’re stupid.
It’s such a shame that Discovery allows such ASSHOLES to taint the reputation of Adam and Jamie’s show by not banning the ASSWIPES.
Mythbusters, I love ya, ASSHOLE FORUM FUCKERS, I hate ya and you can suck my ass.
Steak-umm Yum Yum Gag Gag Puke
Steakumm good.
Love the latest Steakumm commercial –The scene shows a family of four gathered around a nice dinner table in a standard plastic American kitchen the announcer proudly states “Finally! We can tell the neighbors we’re having steak tonight!”
Sure fella, tell the neighbors your having steak, when they really know it’s slaughter house floor scrapings smashed into a demon paste and flattened between the ass cheeks of a Bolivian mud wrestler.
For a truly horrible experience with wall splattering diarrhea, try to find Steakumm Hotpockets. It’s like capturing lighting in a toilet bowl.
NOTE: Steakumm contains no carbohydrates! Yes, that is right zero carbs and 100% fat!
Wired magazine can stuff their surveys in my Christmas turkey’s ass.
I subscribe to Wired magazine for several years now. When I first signed up (several years ago), I opted in the email notices (fool I am). After some emails that were ether borderline spam and some that were almost news, I started getting emails to take an important survey that would help them decide on “some big changes”. Great! They asked ME for some feedback — love the magazine and would be happy to help in a small way. So, click and into survey — what’s your email address? How old are you? Male/female? State? etc. then “click”. “Sorry, you don’t match our demographic for this survey. Thank You!“
What! That was sweet, don’t even blow me a kiss ya pricks!
So, I unsubscribe to emails “CLICK”
Well, now a few years later and I’ve forgotten, stupidly when renewing my subscription I clicked the “email news letters” option — fool that I am AGAIN.
Today, I get the email from Wired to ME asking for my help in shaping the new front page of Wired Magazine — hot fucking fantastic.
You know the routine — click, click, to the curb you low life piece of turd sandwich — not even a whole turd sandwich, just a piece.
Unsubscribe “CLICK!!!!!!!!”
Listen you marketing assholes that do these fucking surveys. If you’re looking for a certain “DEMOGRAPHIC”, then state the “DEMOGRAPHIC” before someone clicks on your stupid little “project”. Otherwise, I can only assume this is a backhanded way of collecting “DEMOGRAPHIC” information based on email accounts — you know you little shits, so you can sell it to other companies. FUCK your SURVEYS Wired Magazine! That’s you Conde’ Nast…
Pat Sajack killed in game show accident.
Melvin Coollotts beat and killed Pat Sajack today. Melvin was a recent contestant on WOF and made a complete ass of himself by repeatedly saying “What is a vowel?” Confused Melvin also kept trying to pick the category of “19th Century Art”.
Looking like a complete fucktard on national TV, Pat Sajack give him his best fake “sorry”, and sent him packing with a copy of the home game. (Don’t get us started on what a real piece of shit that board game is.)
Melvin was heard to say “That’s fucking great Alex Trebek! You weren’t even there and you’re giving me homework!”
Why is Cheryl Crow and Tree Huggers So Enamored with our Butts?
It seems like hardly a week goes by that some tree screaming douche bag is all wrapped up over our asses. They have this unnatural attraction to the human anus that they can’t help but dwell on what comes out of our asses and how we “clean” ourselves. Apparently, they would prefer Americans to go back a couple hundred years and start wiping with our left hand again. (For those unfortunate enough to eat at the Crow house, be sure and bring your own silverware and plates, hand cleanser, and ask for everything to be “WELL-DONE!”
Cheryl likes to use one “tissue” per shit and thinks the rest of the world should do the same. A roll of Charmin must last a year at her house!
Now, another group is advocating we return to our roots, well diaper roots anyway.
These wipes are designed for kids asses, but others fruitcakes are saying adults should use them also. Just one wipe, toss in the washer with your fine delicates and Sunday best and washy washy the crap away.
Just like my mouth, I don’t want someone telling me what goes in it, nor to I want some paper hoarding pimp mama to tell me how to take care of what comes out my butt hole. If you’re that concerned, come by sometime and I’ll take a dump in your car trunk so you can haul it away for composting or whatever the fuck you do with it — I really don’t give a shit (pun intended).
“Let My Anus Go!”
