They are. And they do.

Saturday, December 24, 2011

The Jigglybits Illustrated vol. 13

Posting again. Like a boss.

Making you laugh. Like an assistant night manager.

It’s that time of year again.

Time for another Good Idea, Bad Idea.

Good Idea: Checking out the new comic Aram made, MandatoryRollercoaster

Bad Idea: Checking out the new rollercoaster Aram made, Mandatory Ride to the Emergency Room Afterward

Blatant promotion!

Good Idea: College

Bad Idea: English degree

But it did get me hella laid off.

Good Idea: Thinking, “Hey, it might work with this girl”

Bad Idea: Using that thought as justification for not posting any relationship jokes while we were still together (so expect some of this to be contradictory)

Blatant plot exposition!

Good Idea: Swiping a funny bit from a TV show

Bad Idea: Swiping a funny bit from a TV show that always used a sight gag as a punch line


I feel sorry for atheists who were born on Christmas. Atheism is generally a result of spending time with people who believe in a god. And when you’re a kid, having the greater western world conspire to take away your birthday in favor of a coping mechanism must suck ass.

Christmas is a lonely time of the year to get spam from an old friend about how you’d really enjoy Desktop Dating.

I actually do enjoy desktop dating. But only if tabletop dinner and sofatop movie go well.

I’m a gentleman.

I listen to James Brown during Christmas because nothing says “love and togetherness” like hot pants.

My generation learned about lust every year around Christmas time from the Super Nintendo. It was kinda like the iPad2, but with less feminine camaraderie.

I need a gift idea for this girl, something that says, “You bring new light and understanding to my world, and I cherish the moments we share.”

Do bitches actually like the heels in all that Facebook spam? As a dude, I think they look uncomfortable and ugly as fuck.

It’s funny because we broke up.


Free gift idea:


I know. Hang. Not hung. But if you click on the link, you get to play one-player hangman.

Dandle (v) – Tom Lennon playing one player hangman

Free anatomy lesson: The corpus is the vessel in the male what-have-you that makes
dudes pointy.

Corpus Christi (n):


Aw, come on. It’s Christmas. Let’s show a little enthusiasm.




Now we’re talking.

So, I dated a girl who likes U2.


I think my one goal in life is to not become a vagina. Remember Greg Beherendt? He used to be a shitty comic. Now he has frosted hair and a relationship book.

Just thoughts of cuddling make me have to pee.

Relationship advice: The sooner you apologize for making her mad in her dream, the sooner you can have make-up wet dreams.

To Do:
  • Clean bathroom floor
  • Donate to Locks of Love

 I’ve grown a mustache. Now to make a porno with the girlfriend.

Seriously, it’s bad. Like I should be wearing a shirt that says “Free Paterno.”

I love it when you call me “Big Paterno.”

Too soon?

For our Spanish-speaking readers, me gusta cuando me llamas “Pepino Grande.”

Pepino Grande (n. Spanish): Big Cucumber


Aram, they should put us on that Area 51 shit. We’d get results.


Spock-blocking since 2009

This month’s installment of Not a Porn Site:

I want someone who thinks of that as a romantic evening.

Don’t think too hard.

Or I’ll have to use the safe word.

She must be ok that I’m into


and BTW.


She must use the correct "your," and she must think this is funny:


Nobody says, “I like my men like I like my coffee,” perhaps because there aren’t as many witty punch lines.

Frothy, with a hint of hazelnut.
Less Juan Valdez, more his donkey.
With cream and sugar.


Before I go to another baby shower, I need to learn how to make pink tissue paper not look like girlybits.

If anyone of this generation names their daughter Bella or their son (whatever the dude’s name is. Mervin?), said children reserve the right to slap a bitch.

I met someone named Azlan. I’m still waiting to meet a Mufasa.

Step 1:


 Step 2:


Dear Facebook,

Please stop posting pictures of your Words with Friends game. Nobody cares about that shit.



My friend: Omg, The Talk is so much better than The View. Lol.

Maybe I need to start deleting people.

People I can do without:

  • Stoners who sing, “I Love Smoke a Bowl”
  • Comics who blatantly rip off George Carlin’s bits
  • Internets who blatantly rip off Aram’s bits


I mean,


Bitch, please.


While I was writing this, I grew and lost a mustache. It was a bad decision. If you didn’t see me during that time, I looked like I should be in an old-school western or a new school prison.


Don’t sprays me, bro.


How quickly we forget 9-11.

As we near the end of 2011 and move into an election year, I can’t help but be disappointed at how Obama has handled the issue of gay rights. While Hilary was finally able to publically realize that being LGBTQ doesn’t mean that you’re any less of a person, the president has yet to take a stand and fight for what is by definition a civil rights issue. Instead, he has given the non-answer that his views on the matter are “evolving.” Although this effectively does nothing, it is much preferable to the discriminatory proposals offered by the ass clowns running as Republicans.

Obama 2012: It’s either him or the browneye of Newt (+2 nerd points)

Obama 2012: meh > fml

Obama 2012: Fruit on the bottom, hope on top

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Mentioned on NPR

"The world of the very small is forever a-jiggling."


Sunday, September 11, 2011

Is it bad form to hit on someone on 9/11?

Just asking.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

The Jigglybits Magazine


© 2011 Vancouver

We have a new concept, which means we’ll soon do a lot of coke and split over creative differences. I wanted a National Geographic, but Aram pussied out on getting his boobs gauged with the bones of a porpoise. He wanted a fold cover, but I’d rather buy booze than pay for your broken monitors. I’m already looking forward to our eventual reunion in the form of a supergroup: Crosby, Stills, Nash, Young, Merrill-Lynch, Sacco and Vanzetti. Featuring Aram and Bono. We will wear unlaced ADIDAS and help bring hip hop to the masses. But until then, enjoy The Magazine.


To open The Doors, turn to page 65.

To continue feeding Roger Ebert ketamine, turn to page 1.

Shoes, omg. Page 1.

Yes, it’s a shoes your own adventure.

Or for my Spanish speaking friends, un zapatas adventurate.

Because butchering my native tongue is too easy.

If you say “Doug” with a bit more exhale, you have “Dough.”

Restaurant Review - McDonalds: Kinda like if Gattaca was a snuff porn. I give it 2 bits.

Note to self that makes it look like I'm getting more than I am: Give chocolate lovin to Shannon and Heidi.

The word “Candelabra” is proof that even before modern technological advances, people have enjoyed glow in the dark lovin.

I mean, how else are you going to explain the Great Chicago Fire of 1871?

That proves nothing.

Letters from the Editor:

Dear Reader,

Stop it with all the letters already. You're starting to freak me the fuck out.



Protip: If you’ve read Super Sad True Love Story, you should befriend the James Beard Foundation on Facebook.

Today’s phonics lesson: LOL

If something happens that irritates you, you might say OMFG. Unless you're an atheist. Then there is no G. Dr. Dre is jobless. Times are tough. But if you're an atheist and something really rubs you the wrong way, you might say OMFS. Oh my fucking science. And if you're an atheist and a scientist, you might say OHMS. Because that's the unit for resistance.

That was inaccurate, I'd like to apologize. If Dr. Dre was jobless, there would be no OG. And then you'd say MF, because new hip hop kinda sucks.

LMFAO (v): to suck at rapping

Autotune sounds like a computer entering puberty.

So, Charlotte Kemp Muhl is like totally dating Sean Lennon, and stuff. Hella dating. Wouldn’t it be fucking adorbs if she dressed up as Han Solo for Halloween?


Good news: This girl says we’re a Beatles song.

Bad news: I think I might be the walrus.


Blow his mind with 100 new red hot napping positions!


Listen, Sonny Jim. Sleeping this way will add 10 years to your divorce. I learned it from Keith Richards when I toured with the Stones.

I'm all for people trying things out. I've kissed a few dudes, never on purpose.

Music can be a powerful thing.


I said crink crank a crinka a crinky dinky crink crink crank ita yo stank bacrankadanka bank sank da Jason Statham crink crank a crinkydinky crank wanksta wicket n cheese.

I wrote the word “love” in an email, and Google

No, no, no.


And Google gave me suggestions for “sad love song lyrics.” Wtf, Page and Brin? I don’t like your automated virtual commentary on my situation.

I’m afraid to type “we should hang,” because it might give me suggestions for “rope.”

Btw, I didn’t know who owned Google, so I had to Google it. If I owned Google, I would make the result Chuck Norris, because I’d have that kind of power.

A friend just asked me what my wrestling name would be.

That's something I've never had to think about. What would I like the announcers, and other wrestlers (not to mention the rabid fans) to yell out? What would I like to have people write on signs with the hopes that they'll be seen on national TV?

First watch this

Then press mute.

Then watch this:

My friend: Jack Benny was always 39, and so am I. :)

If you know who Jack Benny is, you’re not 39.

Rodney Dangerfield moment. Ready?

I know, I know. It’ll only take a moment.

We were so poor growing up, man, we were so poor.

Yeah. And?

No, fuckass. You’re supposed to ask me how poor I was.

Oh. Huh. Well, how poor were you?

That’s right, prick. We were so poor, we didn’t eat Top Ramen. We ate Meh Ramen. Ha!

That isn’t funny.

Why are you still reading this?

Now is the time on Sprockets when I scare the shit out of you: I read someone describing himself as a “Sergeon,” and I am contractually unable to tell you who it is.

Enjoy that.

Printed above the nutritional facts on a can of Coke are the words "Low Sodium." In a related story, Chernobyl has great water pressure.

Bush got Saddam (giggle), Obama got Bin Laden. The next president will be a let down if he doesn’t get Dr. Evil.

But who do we have who could battle an intergalactic superdickhead?


As they say, fight spaceship willie with Spaceship Willie.

I’m usually against nepotism, but George Clinton would make an excellent Secretary of Non-Vehicular Transportation.

I recently got to witness a parking cop giving me a ticket, but I win because I’m not a parking cop.

He drives around in what is essentially this:


I don’t know what’s more amusing, that the back looks like this:


Or that he wears a bicycle helmet.

Regardless, that job is what happens to lower middle class men with small penises.

My neighbor is either vacuuming or very lonely.

My Friend: I’d give my firstborn to be able to fall asleep right now.

Me: If you’re handing out firstborns, I’ll take two.

Our generation needs a Groucho Marx.

One of my friends just had a kid, and another just won an Emmy. This forced me to wipe the Funyuns grease on my boxers so I could click “Like.”

I’m a busy guy, so I don’t always write this out in one sitting. Often enough, I jot down little snippets that I end up revisiting and expanding into entire bits. But occasionally, that leaves me with a random bit of incoherence that doesn’t fit in well with these other random bits of incoherence. If you can decipher my latest Seinfeld moment for me and tell me why it’s funny, I will personally take you out for a romantic evening of 40s on the curb at the Target parking lot. And I’ll even pay for mine:

Bono’s Boners! Look at the dancing monkey!

See, even I don’t have a clue what that means.

Dear girl at the ATM,

You were hot until you let the machine beep forfuckingever before taking your card.



Natural selection is me tweaking my neck while trying to scratch the inside of my ear with my shoulder. I think it’s better that I don’t breed.

“When I count, it means the whole world can hear me, even in the movies.”

Kids say the dumbest shit.

AF: So, tell me a bit about what makes Bono tick.

BONO: As a rock star, I have two instincts, I want to have fun, and I want to change the world.

AF: Mmm.

BONO: I have a chance to do both.

AF: Yeah.

BONO: In dabut

Today’s Tip for Hella Hotness:

Just the tip. Please? It won’t hurt. Trust me.

The Ladies Mullet: Business up front, party in dabut.

Things to do while in Dabut:
  • Spelunking
Funny name: Robert Packwood

While baking something for this girl I like, I accidentally burned myself so that it looked like I’m really lonely.

Funny name: Bruce Cockburn

Protip: Don’t be a fool, Bono Isatool.


Look. Advil makes condoms. In case your partner’s a sadist and you’re just a really nice guy.

AF: Be honest. Did you really know a bitch named Eric Wright, or did you just need a rhyme?

That's some real conversation for your ass.


If you find yourself having deez nuts, double deez nuts, or really anything above a B cup, call a Dr. immediately.

I take care of myself, but it tends to lead to injury. It makes me feel a lot older than I am. The other day I was working out and I think I pulled my triceriteps.

Fitness tip: If you find yourself about to pull your triceriteps, remember that every time you do, god kills a velociraptor.

In my line of work, I’m really young. Whenever someone asks what my cell is, I say “stem.”

In Massachusetts, you have to be 5’9” in order to donate sperm. That seems a bit too selective. I know plenty of women who couldn’t do that.

The reasoning behind this is that people don’t want short babies.

Gattaca! Gattaca!

That’s not exactly fair, nor is it necessarily the best decision. The short ones are so much easier to fit in a purse or an overhead bin. They’re convenient. You could keep a few in the glove box or in your back pocket in case you suddenly needed one. You could hand them out as party favors or stuff them in a piñata.

You’re not the first to tell me I’d make a great dad.

But I’ll just settle for a Facebook app that lets me input certain words that will filter out the status updates I see.

My Friend: Ooo how good is the I just bought my first ever coach purse (on sale of course) :)

Perhaps I just need to start deleting people.

Question: “I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?”

Answer: Religious people are fucking crazy.

And no. You throw like Stephen Hawking.

I hear that publishers are trying to get more money from libraries by only letting their ebooks get checked out 25 times before the library has to buy a new file. As a reader, I think that’s a flawed system. How am I supposed to eat bacon while reading and licking my fingers to turn the pages in case the next person to check out the book happens to be someone who thinks that animal doesn’t belong inside of us?

Technology fucks everything up.


Special Offer: Subscribe today and receive the BonoBox360 Sexbot and iPod Dock v.2.0


  • Comes with its own fully-adjustable desk mount and cigarette lighter adapter
  • Space age memory foam technology
  • Removes unwanted lint
  • Includes a joystick for playing Space Invaders
  • Preprogrammed with over 500 inspirational quotes:
“Be yourself!”

“I dare you! I double dare you, motherfucker, say ‘what’ one more goddamn time!”

“It is very important to generate a good attitude, a good heart, as much as possible. From this, happiness in both the short term and the long term for both yourself and others will come!”
  • Available in faux-stone finish to blend in seamlessly with your lawn décor
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I often wonder about the vampire equivalent of the BANG! gun. Is it like an inflatable wooden stake? Or maybe one that leaves a smudge, like that gum that turns your mouth black.

“Mmmm. Blood. Fucking nom.”


“Aaaaah! You dick! What’d you do that for?”

“It was funny.”

“Oh, right. Funny. Now, how am I supposed to get that out?”

“Well, you know. Do you have one of those little…”

“What, like a Clorox pen? I’m wearing a cape. Do you think I have fucking pockets? You’re lucky this thing is black. It doesn’t really show dirt.”

“Well, maybe you should get one of those satchels.”

“What, like a man purse?”

“No, man. I mean like a satchel. Indiana Jones has one.”

“I’m already in negative man points for dressing like this. You want me to add a strappy strap bag thing?”

“It’s practical.”


“What, are you not secure about yourself?”

“Secure? I’m fucking Dracula, bitch. Read a book. I have issues.”

Yeah, that’s pretty much how it would go down.


Fitness tip (n): Arnold Schwarzenegger’s what-have-you

To see what that’s like, turn to page 1.

To experience it firsthand, vote Republican.




Um, hello?


Anyone there?


Oh, I’m sorry. Which one of you ordered extra Assange?


It is ok. I am expert.

Yeah. You read this for the articles.

George Carlin said that most of the people who are against abortion are people you wouldn’t want to fuck in the first place. Though I’m straight, I feel the same way about homophobes. And I don’t think I’m alone. I doubt the lesbian collective just looked at Michele Bachmann and said, “Balls.”

Though I am a bit surprised we haven’t seen any bad “Bachmann: Turn Her Over, Drive” jokes yet.

Surprised narcoleptics say, “Ohh, nap!”

I’m sorry. But you can’t pick up a tomato and expect The Onion.

Area Man Will Turn Car Around If You Don’t Stop It Right Now

Twitter Ponders Increase to 160 characters. Internet Changes Its Pants.

Betty Ford Dead at 93 of Massive Heroin Overdose

Fall Out Boy Seeks Speech Therapy After Thousands Show Up To Concert Wearing Mullets

Oxford Style Guide drops the Oxford Comma. Andre 3000 Decides Smart Girls Just Aren’t That Hot

Inflatable Shark Among 300 Species Discovered in Philippines

No joke. That’s just fucking rad. And likely the future cause of human extinction.

In lieu of making a will, I think I’ll make a scavenger hunt. I don’t promise everything will be easy to reach.

The PT Cruiser is like a hearse for short people.

Free T-shirt idea: Save the drama for your Oxford comma.

Please, someone make that so we can distinguish the nerds from the douchey nerds.

Don’t get me wrong, I love nerds in several different positions.

Unfortunate acronyms:
  • NARD
Hey, that looks like a porn site:

It’s not.

I have so many of those that I could almost start a second site of just filthy URLs.

URL sounds like a sexual preference, BTW.

But what would I call it?

(n): man mouth on girlybits

If I ran Facebook, I would include a “relatively indifferent” button for us not to click.

Alternate names for Google+:

Google Your Friends


The Googleybits

Google Yes! Oh God, Yes! WAKA WAKA WAKA!

If you happened to get the Dishwalla reference in that joke, let me know so we can both awkwardly deny having ever listened to that band.


Album Review: Shit sandwich.



Adjacent to Aruba, Jamaica and at least one frigid, but still kinda hot biochem student with several children and alcoholic tendencies, this tropical destination is known for its vast steel reserves, no longer relevant psychedelia and wild, untamed reverb on the snare drum. The local population consists of mostly immigrants, astronauts, and narcoleptics. National pastimes include alliteration and pretending alliteration will get you laid.

That song is like the creepy old man anthem. I’m sure even Prince thought, “Um, bitches, I think you’ve crossed the line.”

Dear Facebook,

The 30-Day Song Challenge is not a challenge. It’s like saying “Bet you can’t masturbate every day this month.”



I think that might be the first time I’ve used the word “masturbate” in this blog. Sorry.

Hokay, kids. Has everyone ready for making the English?




A belief or philosophy must have one to bring it about. If there is no one to think it, it can not be. Linguistically speaking, where there’s an ism, there’s an ist.

You get the gist? No?

Bob Marley was a firm believer in the practice of smoking a good J. He was a Jist. He practiced Jism.

Bob Marley and Dr. Seuss! And Dr. Dre! And Dr. Phil! Secret love child!


Pac Man Dead

Pac Man was found dead today in the depths of a blue maze, but only for about a second before he withered away into nothingness. The cause of death for the 31 year old infinite-sided polygon is believed to be accidental. An analysis of his stomach contents revealed 63,834,678,902,345,423 pills, several pieces of fruit and one ghost. When reached for comment, longtime lover and professional talking carpet, Fozzie Bear, appeared devastated, but not at all surprised. “That was just the lifestyle they had, him and the Ms. I think we always knew he couldn’t go on like that forever. Often times, he would seek escape, but just end up right back in the same place he was before.” Bear, 35, cited the irony of one of their more prominent exchanges. “I was in pretty bad shape, too. I mean, it was the 80s. It got so bad that he and the Ms., they tried to make me go to rehab. I said, ‘Yes! Oh god yes! WAKA WAKA WAKA!’ Which is probably why I’m here talking to you today.” According to Bear, the deceased was a spiritual being. “He always believed in reincarnation,” said Bear. “And I personally don’t think it’ll be long before we see him again.”

That will be $3.95, please. Seriously. I’m out of Jameson.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Everything's under control. Situation normal.

So, for a solid 7 months, this one post had a coding error that I just couldn't figure out. As a result, it cut off everything after the first sound file, which was roughly the bottom 2/3. As is often the case, that's the region that houses the most interesting bits.

In writing #11, I used a few references to the long-doomed #7, and in doing so, figured out how to fix it.

So, here it is in its entirety:

The Jigglybits Illustrated vol. 7


Sunday, May 8, 2011

The Jigglybits Illustrated vol. 11


Say everybody, have you seen my balls, they’re big and salty and beige?


I wrap mine in bacon.

Sometimes this blog makes me feel a bit like the man standing in a pickle suit next to a sandwich shop and a gay bar.

At the risk of destroying my credibility by using an actual definition,

Gimcrack (n): a gewgaw

Unfortunately for most orthodox flamboyants, Gewgaw on gimcrack is still illegal.

But seriously, the second definition is

Gimcrack (adj): tasteless

Aram’s laundry day Twitter: I would like to extend to you an invitation to the pants party.

I realize that, because of this blog, Aram no longer needs to tweet.

And neither do any of you. Twitter is like Sarah Palin. If you stop paying attention, it will go away.

April fool!

It’s not really April.


I’m disappointed in Good Friday as a writer. Is “good” the best you could come up with? “Good” doesn’t mean best, or really all that great. This essentially leaves us with “Meh Friday.” I’m not sensing a lot of enthusiasm for the impending rescue of humanity via bloody execution. Like the Buddy Christ, I think the Vatican should consider an update of terms. Something like “Gargantuan Friday,” “Woooooot! Friday!” (punctuation helps, too) or “Yeah, Motherfuckin Friday, Motherfuckers.” That is the kind of enthusiasm over the impending weekend that I could get behind. And it is catchy enough that someone might end up making a movie about it.


So, what did you do for 4/20?

I worked. It was a Wednesday.

It’s been a busy week. I had my morning coffee at 9.

The other one.

But when I do have free time, I like to volunteer and teach children useful life skills, like how to write an effective business letter.

Dear Bitches,

Give me the money.



There are maybe 4 different kinds of car alarms in the world, so it’s tough to determine whether or not you should care. So,

Free million dollar idea: Car alarm ringtones.

It won’t take two seconds of head bobbing before “Oh, shit!” and breaking out into a dead run.

In theory, of course.

“Dude, that’s yours.”


“Aren’t you gonna get it?”

“Nah. This is my jam.”

I love it when people buy sports jerseys. In another year or two, they’re going to look even more like douchebags.


Except for him. He gets a pass.

If a college bar has 80s night, do the patrons dress as sperm?


Amazeballs (n): Rapid Onset Beer Nuts (ROBN)

ROBN Hood (n): Occurs in non-Jewish patients

ROBN Williams (n): Sasquatch

Tweet of the month: “Getting new hair next Friday. Yay.”


Back in the days of burlesque, when male actors wanted to portray women, they would wear pubic hair wigs called merkins.

A merkin sounds like a furry woodland creature. Well, it is. Lives in the bush. Eats nuts.

Because of its appearance, it is often called a “map of Tasmania.”

Or Chile or South America, depending upon how you're equipped.

I think it's a good thing. They can provide some much-needed assistance to those less fortunate. I for one plan on growing it out and donating to Locks of Lovin.

Mercantile (n): One option for vajazzling

Vajuggling (v): you sick fuck.

This month’s installment of Not a Porn Site:

Times are tough if Forbes is slutting it up.

I like going on Facebook and befriending old people who never use Facebook. That way, when the hackers come, I get to see this on a regular basis.


For our parents, “hashtag” was how you kept your crops in order.

And #tigerblood was probably a Vietnamese blend.

Too soon? Any veterans in the house? Mah-bad.

Throughout the speculation regarding who will now star in Two and a Half Men, one obvious choice has been overlooked.


Then ABC was like, “Emilioooooo!”

It makes perfect sense.
  • Lynx blood
  • Parties with phone sex operators
  • Was on an epic jog that made Clinton look like Taft
  • Only bangs 6 gram rocks
  • Doesn’t really bang them. Makes sweet love to them in a morally supportive manner so that they are content with their feelings of self-worth and if only just for a moment no longer resentful of their fathers for being cold and distant to their mothers ever since they were born, ruining that perfectly freaky arrangement of Thursday night leather, bicycle pumps and thin apartment walls
  • D3 = Poetry.

I like libraries, like more than a friend.

Excuse me, miss? Where in the Dewey Decimal System do I find “Skeet?”

My hard drive froze in the computer I use to edit sound.

So, just press play.


Actually, one of the most effective uses for medical pot is for the treatment of epilepsy. So if you think you might be at risk, ask your doctor to see if a fatty of chronic is right for you.


I just heard someone described as “a younger Justin Beiber.” Seeing how this is obviously the next big thing, I’ll save everyone time and create the slang now:


GZ One is:

a) The latest incarnation of a former Wu-Tang clansman
b) Bill Clinton’s post-presidential private jet
c) Something that stays in your pocket until you’re ready to reach out and touch someone


That’s an official promotional photo. I can’t make that shit up.

For your convenience, Casio has made this device:

[x] Waterproof
[x] Shockproof
[x] Dustproof

This will fit your needs, no matter how much you’re used to getting.

I’m keeping mine on vibrate.

Latest Facebook annoyance: People who check in at “my bed.” Unless your bed is a place of business, leave that shit off the internet. It’s the equivalent of a gay man (or a lucky straight man) checking in at “my sweetie’s butthole.”

Freudian fingerslip: Don’t want to meet your comma.

Life gave me melons.

I dated a dancer, and she was a fucking idiot. Actually, she was a fucking genius, but an idiot at everything else, so it didn't last long.

Basically, I want a gymnast who can spell.


I also saw this stoner who would get high and then not want to fool around. I kept telling her, "First take care of head," but she wouldn't listen.

If you don't get the reference, I'll wait. You're already online; you could just Excite it or Yahoo it or Alta Vista it, which is the kinkiest of them all.

Kinkier than Google is the kind of thing I'd like on my tombstone.

And yes, I'm aware of the irony of writing this on a blog site made by Google using a phone made by Google that I bought from a man made by Google.

Yes, they've branched out into cloning. It's their new division, Doppelgoogle.

Actually, that's a lie. I have a Brickberry.

To all Apple users: My laptop has two right click buttons and a right click function button on the keyboard. #suckit

Freudian fingerslip: When responding to someone named Narda, you know.

They’re right next to each other. Sue me.

Best. Dialogue. Ever:

“Where’s Macak?”

I love speaking and writing in other languages, but I know English is where I belong, simply because they saw it fit to make “meatball” one word.

Ladies and gentlemen, if you don’t like the taste of balls, you can fix that:

Dear The Vatican,

You turn people into saints because they did some good things. What about he/she who invented pasta? That move was aces.



Note to self: If you find yourself in a city that starts with “The,” run.


The King James Version

From the upcoming album, Crunky Monks.

I need a new grill. I wonder how effectively platinum conducts heat.

When Snoop calls himself “D O Double Gizzle,” I D O Double Giggle.

Sorry. I’ll never do that again.

I wonder if Vanilla Ice knew what “word to your mother” meant. I can imagine him finding out now and being like, “Oh, mercy me.”

To those of you expecting me to tell jokes, I’m sorry. I’ll try to accommodate.

If you’ve ever brushed your arm hair in anticipation of female companionship…

Yeah, this doesn’t work well for me.

Do you ever get really excited when you're going to see someone and you start rehearsing things to say and you come up with one that's really good, sure to get a response and then when you get there you start to say it and they interrupt you with something completely off topic and it makes you hate that person? That's why I don't talk to people.

Things I can do without: old people who smell like cigarettes

Thingies I can do without: fake ones

How buoyant are fake boobs? Is it like if she floats she's a witch?

I like a woman who takes care of herself but still has three dimensions. Hips are sexy as hell, but tempting scholiosis with your walk isn't. Who decided that was hot? That doesn't tell me that you can move sideways in bed. It tells me that even when you walk you're trying too hard and you’re obviously insecure. If you go to great lengths to draw attention to certain body parts and away from others, it's clear that you don't love your entire self. And then, when I try to, you'll get all weird and defensive and don’t let me. I don't need that kind of crazy.

Also, I fly a lot, and if you try to walk like that on an airplane, you could end up taking out the entire population of aisle seat passengers one by one.

Still, I like it when a woman walks like that, wears makeup, bleaches her hair and wears designer clothes. It weeds out the people I don't ever need to talk to.


Well, there's one less fish.

I generally don't have celebrity crushes, but Charlotte Kemp Muhl is fucking gorgeous.

A. She has a rapist wit

B. She is artistically inclined

C. Star Wars shirt under a leather jacket.

D. She is open to dating Wookees


Her face kinda weirds me out, but I can look past that.

My love life is usually like this

And this

And crazy hot sex with random supermodels.

I just need to make sure my mother would be proud if she ever found out I wrote this.

Shakespeare is credited with inventing upwards of 1,500 words. I aspire to have that kind of long-lasting impact on society (+3 old fuck points), so I like to take two completely unrelated words and combine them to make a new term that nobody will ever use.

Massochist (n):

Could you use it in a sentence?


She likes to get spanked.

Chandruff (n): When Jackie Chan runs out of shampoo

Chindruff (n): When Osama Bin Laden runs out of shampoo

Fuck. We’re going to have to find someone new for the beard jokes.

Maodruff (n): When your cat runs out of shampoo

Vitalitarrhea (n): a popular activity among massochists

Shakespeare is also credited with inventing the knock knock joke. I would like to be remembered as the inventor of the ding dong joke.

A blond walks into a bar.

But only after she rang the doorbell and was invited in. I know it's a place of business, but blondes have manners, too.

In fact, she was so polite, the bartender let her ring the last call bell with her dildo.

I overheard an old couple complaining about kids with baggy pants, because apparently they still exist. As a twentysomething old fuck, I can't wait until the emo youngs stop showing off their bulges.


The airport has a device called a Bag Sizer, which is essentially the female version of The Penis Mightier.

Flying American Airlines is a step up from my usual Southwest. Their flight attendant call buttons actually make that noise. I'm used to them having to bring Jay and Silent Bob over to my seat.

I don't freak out about flying. The safety measures they take are incredible. They brought this dog into the airport, and he went right past the unbaithed bearded guy and went right to the garbage can outside of the barbecue joint.

Free million dollar idea: a Facebook app that blocks when people update their statuses with bible verses.

I mean, jesus fuck already.

The past tense of dick is duck. He gave hot dickings. He hot duck.

I know someone who is responsible for making a duck stamp. I just have one question: noun or verb?

It's a group effort.

And a public contest.

So, I was on this girl's couch at her place in the woods with ten cats, and one of them came up and wanted to get comfortable. I was ok with that. I have nothing against cats, other than them being little motherfuckers. But the cat started getting more than what is normally deemed friendly for a cat. She (or maybe he. That shouldn't make this any weirder) crawled up to my armpit, dug in and started licking my right boob. Not like a curious lick or a "you spilled something there" lick. This cat started mining for buried whatever using that nice little oral pickaxe they all have. I didn't know what to do, so I watched, feeling slightly violated and hoping she would stop. But she didn't let up. I wanted to tell her, "Hello. That's mine. And as long as I've had it, nothing has come out of it." Besides the cat being a total skeezbag, rubbing herself wherever she could on me, she appeared to be trying to get milk from the teat of a completely different species. I mean, how fucked up is that?

And did I just inadvertently participate in some form of bestiality? Am I going to hell now?

Current latest thing that blew my mind: A friend of mine brought her pug to a chiropractor for treatment.

Free shirt idea: I Meh NJ

When a hipster grows up, does he/she get a fixie car?

So, it’s National Poetry Month.

Shut up. Act like it’s April.

So, it’s National Poetry Month.

Here I sit
All broken hearted
Why are you laughing
That shit really hurts

Poets are sensitive.

I just discovered that they’re considering making a Crank 3. Finally. A film that answers all of the unanswered questions of Crank 2: High Voltage.

But considering that this would now be considered a series, we can all expect several additional films, or perhaps a series of prequels released on the momentous 22nd anniversary of the original.

I make it my goal to by then secure that job in Hollywood where one sits in a dank basement and emerges with titles.

Crank 3: The Crankening

Crank 4: Release the Cranken

Crank 5: Enter the Cranken


Crank 6: Rocky 3

Or perhaps it will follow the Indiana Jones model and wait just long enough for nobody to care about an unnecessary sequel.

Crank 4: The One in which We Find Out that Jason Statham is not Vin Diesel

But considering that times are tough, I may end up having to forgo Hollywood for the San Fernando Valley.


Enter the Cranken


Rocky 5

I’m getting in shape. I have a four pack. I’m not going to say how many of those are ribs.

The following story is now illegal in China, because it transports you back to before April 18th.

Though it’s been a while since I have filed and paid for the service, Turbotax keeps sending me notices, saying “It’s not too late to file.” This from the gatekeeper between my ass and the government.

Another year of successfully completing my taxes without pressing the Ottoman Turkish Empire Settlement Payment button.

Look! A falling government. Make a wish.

With all of the recent unrest in the world, there has been a sharp increase in the posting of this video on Facebook

I think we’re doing ourselves a disservice by not also posting this

Dare I say, the next John Lennon.

“I’ve never heard rhymes like that.” – A. Cronauer

If you say “amazeballs” to a Spanish speaker, it’s like you’re saying


I think I’m going to start saying “nards” again. It’s time.

Come jiggle with me.