The Kool-Aid Man

The following piece is from an article on Wikipedia. I put it here because it had to be one of the most humerous things I have read in some time. For example, read this passage of how Wikipedia defines the Kool-aid man:

"The mascot of Kool-Aid, Kool-Aid Man (aka The Big Man), is a gigantic anthropomorphic frosty pitcher filled with Kool-Aid and marked with a fingerprinted smiley face on it, seen in Kool-Aid's advertising. He was introduced shortly after General Foods acquired the brand. In TV and print ads, Kool-Aid Man was known for bursting suddenly through walls, seemingly summoned by the making and imbibing of Kool-Aid by children. His catch phrase is "Oh, yeah!"

Call me strange, but that paragraph made me laugh for quite some time. I guess the sentence, "...seemingly summoned by the making and imbibing of Kool-Aid by children", was the best part.

Anyways, I have to get the fuck back to work.

Further reading on this article can be found here: Kool-Aid

"Family Jewels"

Documents release from the CIA's classified archives.

Take a look

Family Jewels

One of the Funniest Articles we have come across

Take a look here

New law in California in 2004

Nicholas Cage

I can describe Nicholas Cage in two words, Douche bag. You may be asking why I would make such a comment about this man, well it’s true and if you don’t agree, fuck off. How many people would actually be excited to see Nicholas Cage in person? Second, I would not lie to you all. Thirdly, if you still don’t agree, fuck off.

Let us list some of the movies that he has been in.

National Treasure-Producer: Jerry Bruckheimer
The Rock- Producer: Jerry Bruckheimer
Gone in 60 Seconds- Producer: Jerry Bruckheimer
Con Air- Producer: Jerry Bruckheimer

Looking at the above data, you may notice something odd. The first and most obvious is that all four of those movies suck a homeless man’s balls. They were horrible projects. The second is that Jerry Bruckheimer has produced all four of those films. That is a lot of movies for a shitty actor and a homosexual director to collaborate on. All four of these movies combined grossed about 506k overall. Spiderman 3 did that in one week worldwide.

I believe the problem with Jerry Bruckheimer and Nicholas Cage is that they are Emos incognito and hiding a scandalous Hollywood love affair. Don’t believe me? Fuck you, I have proof. Some of my “top sources” were able to intercept an America on Line Instant Message between the two earlier this month. I am the only person who has this information available.

xxXNcageLOLXxx- Yo J you there?

JBLike2CUTalot- LOL, ya dude, whats goin on, lol???

xxXNcageLOLXxx- listen man, I need work. Do you have any other boring and pointless movies that I can ruin with my shitty acting?

JBLike2CUTalot- lol, dont say that about your acting, you wouldn’t want the media and public to know that you genuinely suck as an actor and would be best off hanging yourself.

XxXNcageLOLXxx- do you think you could get me into a movie with a good actor, maybe someone like Tom Hanks or Johnny Depp?

JBLike2CUTalot- I don’t really see that being possible as just about every REAL actor in Hollywood hates you.

xxXNcageLOLXxx- I don’t understand it. What did I do to be so disliked?

JBLike2CUTalot- For starters, you’re one of the worst actors ever to be on screen. Maybe when you filmed that ending scene in Wicker Man, it should have been real.

xxXNcageLOLXxx- wow, I feel useless. My hair is receding, I’m ugly and I smell like dead kittens. What should I do?

JBLike2CUTalot-Well, being a complete fag of a director myself, I cannot give you the best advice on life. Why don’t you come on over and cut with me? We can do each others hair and wear tight pants.

xxXNcageLOLXxx- OMFG! That sounds so fun…lol lol. I am on my way.

And there you have it. The two are faggish Emos.

The Men's Restroom

I have wanted to write on this topic for sometime, and after many years, it is time to publish my thoughts. For all the women out there who want or don’t want to know, I am going to unveil the secrets of the men’s restroom and talk about what really goes on behind that door. In my travels, I have been in and used thousands of public restrooms around the world. I have noticed that there are some similarities that take place in just about every one of them, as well as a few differences.

The men’s restroom is like the ‘safe-base’ in kickball. You dodge, run and hurdle over other people to get to it, and once in, you’re safe. By ‘safe’ I mean able to drop your guard, manners and fake bullshit attitude that is put on for the rest of the world. The fucking place is even aptly named Restroom, or place of rest, and it is a break from the outside. I can surely bet that many men will agree when I say that there are things that go on in this room that are seen and done that are not regularly talked about.

First off, let us dispel a few myths that surround the Men’s Restroom so we can start this lecture with a fresh slate.

Guy Piss with their pants and boxers/briefs around their ankles: Sorry to disappoint, but this is a myth. This was something that boys do in the 1st grade, and they only do it once. That is because if another boy, or group of boys, sees some kid pissing with his pants all the way down, he/they kick the bottomless mother fucker in the back of the knees. This causes the little bastard to fall and piss on himself. Pants on the floor is like letting the American flag touch the ground, you just don’t do it.

Glory holes: A complete fucking lie. I pity the poor man who puts his junk inside a hole in the wall. I think in order to discourage use of such holes, automatic garbage disposals should be installed on the other side.

The restroom attendant is always black: Actually, this isn’t a myth. It’s a fact, and I’m pretty sure it’s the same guy everywhere you go.

As mentioned above, I have noticed several similarities that exist in men’s restrooms around the world. More specifically, there seems to be certain behaviors exhibited almost exactly the same way in every restroom. I have long observed these behaviors in the restroom (most of which was audible, you fags), and have classified them into the following:

The Grunter: What the fuck is this guy’s problem? I can’t tell you have many times I’m sitting on the john and one of these mother fuckers plants his ass in the stall next to me. At first he sounds like he could be a normal shitter, and then you hear the first of a series of grunts and moans. It’s horrific, but you think, fuck it, the son of a bitch probably had shitty Mediterranean food with taco bell hot sauce for lunch. Not a big deal you tell your self, I can handle this. Things become quiet and you wait for the wonderful sound of the spinning industrial toilet paper roll in his stall. Then all of a sudden, more grunts, sighs and devilish sounds emanate from his unit. I try not to imagine what the fuck is going on over there. These guys sound like they are taking a steel brush and cleaning their urethra, then spraying lime juice and salt on it. I don’t fucking understand it. Do they not know that other people can hear them? Do they not understand that is sounds like they are being fucking tortured? Jesus, shut the fuck up and let the rest of us shit in peace.

The Cell Phone Guy: Same situation as above. I will be sitting there, minding my own business and some dude sits in the stall next to mine. Whatever right? Yeah, well everything seems okay at first. Then I hear this fucker start to dial his phone! Whenever someone calls me, and their voice sounds like it has a bit of an echo, I ask them if they are in a bathroom. If they say yes, I tell them to fuck off and call me back. If not, they’re lying and I hang up on them. This is an actual shortened conversation I over heard yesterday in the men’s restroom between a Cell Phone Guy and what I presumed to be his office manager:

Cell Phone Guy: Judy, it’s Rick. Just wanted to see if we got that 1040 form filled out this week.

Judy: No, I will do it right now.

Rick: Thanks, you are awesome, talk to you later.

Judy: Bye

Little did poor Judy know, that while she was talking to her boss, he was shitting his brains out in some restroom. Cell Phone Guy should have been more honest and told his office manager what he was really doing at the time of his call. The conversation between the two should be more like this:


Rick: Judy, its Rick. Just wanted to see if we got that 1040 form filled out this week.

Judy: No, I will do it right now. By the way, it sounds like you are placing this call from within a restroom.

Rick: Why yes, I am taking a huge shit, and figured that now would be the most convenient time to call you.

Judy: Wow, that’s stimulating knowledge Rick. What did you have for lunch?

Rick: I don’t know. But it looks like it had corn in it. It also appears there is no more toilet paper. Guess I am going to have to use my hand again…gee wiz.

Judy: I never wipe. I don’t see the purpose. I love the feeling of crusty shit flakes…yum.

Rick: You’re such a dirty bitch. Anyways, I have a few more calls to make. I could make them after I am done in here, but what the fuck, I feel like being an annoying ass hole.

Judy: Oh my god, that’s soooo emo… LOL, you’re so funny, lol lol.

Jesus fucking Christ. I think people can wait 5-10 minutes to make a call or call someone back if they’re in the shitter. Not being able to talk on your fucking cell phone during that time is not going to make or break your career. Some of these shit heads start making tons of calls, looking for files in their briefcase and taking notes. Public restrooms should be a place of silence. Why don't we upgrade them with an Internet port to plug a laptop in, a desk that folds down from the wall, and a coffee maker so these bastards can work easier from the toilet?

The Conversationist: This guy has to be the worst of them all. This is the fucker who decides to piss in the urinal next to you, even though there are 40 free ones, and strike up a conversation. He’ll start talking about how windy it is, how his dog has AIDS or even how he walked in on his grandparents bumpin’ uglies. Whatever the fuck the topic is, it’s pointless and no one cares.

The Over-Zealous Toilet Paper User: I will be honest. I like to take a crap when there is no one else in the restroom, it’s just more comfortable. And when someone does come in a take a crap next to my stall, I can’t fucking wait until they leave. You can expect their departure to be shortly after you hear them pulling on the TP. However, there are some guys who overstep in this field. Toilet paper is not a right, it’s a privilege. These wasteful fuckers overuse toilet paper and are the ones I blame when I take a crap and when it’s gone. You know you have an Over-Zealous TP User when you hear them yank so hard on the roll the walls shake. They must spin off a good 20 feet, fumble around for a bit and spin again. It’s not the wheel of fortune you fuck heads, one good spin and you’re done. In fact, I say you get one spin and after that, the TP roll locks itself and youre screwed.

If you take anything from this, let it be the ability to recognize the people who do the above so you can give them shit for it. They drive me crazy, hopefully you can help do something about it.

Mexi-Cans

Americans have become very lazy. There is very little physical labor that our children do anymore. It used to be that if young Bobby wanted to buy a comic book, he had to get his lazy fucking ass off the couch and go do some work. Fortunately, old Mr. Hopkins down the street needed his picket fence painted white every other month and would pay a handsome 25 cents for a job well done. Little Bobby is filled with joy to start immediately and paints the fucking fence in no time. The problem is that some Americans tried to get smart. Notice I said ‘tried’. Little Bobbys around the country began to realize that if they found 50 people like Mr. Hopkins, they could hire younger kids to paint a fence for a nickel, and then keep the 20 cents as profit.

One neighborhood kid would be running a ten-child fence painting service while sitting on their ass and raking in dough. Not so bad right? Wrong you douche bags. Bobby would grow up with this mentality of hiring cheap labor and sitting around on his ass, eating fast food and accumulating high amounts of cholesterol in his arteries. The four heart attacks he has now drive up health insurance and end up costing me my hard earned dollars. I have to pay a $40.00 co-pay BEFORE I even get to see the doctor about my broken hand from punching retards like that daily. Fuck you Bobby, little shit head.

Anyways, all the little greedy white kids wanted to be a Bobby, so they began to move up in the business. Soon rednecks took on the painting and low-end labor jobs, but surprisingly, they too wanted a promotion. Eventually it came to point where no American wanted to do the work to make this fucking nation look nice and stay clean. Who comes to the aid? MEXICO. A swarm of Mexicans rushed in to fill the vacuum of open labor positions.

Let’s move to the present day now and be honest. Have you ever seen a homeless Mexican standing around a barrel fire with white and black bums shooting the shit? I don’t fucking think so. Even saying ‘homeless Mexican’ is an oxy moron. A Mexican could make a three-story condo out of 35 taco shells, balsa wood and some duct tape, yet your average bum chooses to sleep on park benches. Have you ever seen a bunch of Mexicans off work at 4pm for happy hour at the local pub? Fuck no. Those sons of bitches are working till at least 7pm. Then they go to Wendy’s and order off the extra value menu. They go where other Mexicans are working so they can get the fucking hookup.

Mexicans are fucking resilient and thrifty. That’s why the Survivor TV series has never had a REAL Mexican on the show. They may have had Emilio Garciapara from Los Angeles, who owns his own insurance company and is 2nd generation Hispanic/Spanish mix, who might last a few episodes, but nothing compared to a true Mexican. Survivor fears real Mexicans because they would win the show every time. In fact, the other contestants would see a Mexican’s true skill on the first day and either give up or drown themselves when the realized they didn’t stand a fucking chance. The white, black and Chinese people spend their days fighting other clans, hunting and fishing. A Mexican would wake up, make peace with other clans by making them burritos and beer; then fish, hunt, and build a boat, all while simultaneously jumping through rings of fire, running across tight ropes and wrestling sharks.

Mexicans, like all people in the country, wish to climb the economic ladder to financial freedom. One thing I have noticed is that Mexicans have a very distinct way of going about it and they do it exactly the same way too.

Let’s start at the very beginning of the Mexican journey through life, which is upon entry into the United States.



The Mexican then gets a job at a trench digging company. What the hell is a trench digging company you may be asking? Fuck if I know, I always so those fuckers out there digging something up. Remember douche bags, this is the ‘fence painting job’ that no one wants to do.



The Mexican then gets his first car.

The Mexican gets a job at a landscaping company. The job pays better and the Mexican begins to experience the basic feeling of financial stability. He purchases this car:


After a few years this man becomes a Hispanic landscaping wonder. He is a pro. There isn’t a bush he can’t trim, a tree he cant prune or a field he cant mow. In fact, the son of a bitch has transcended using machinery and cuts lawns with his bare hands.



You will also notice that Mexicans never eat at Taco Bell or Taco Johns. Sadly, this perplexes many people. I can explain it to those confused souls in 5-8 words. IT IS NOT MEXICAN FOOD YOU FUCK HEADS. I don’t think the preferred dish of families in the heart of the Mexican country side would be a Seven Layer Crunch-Wrap Supreme, two Steak Baja Gorditias, a 24 oz. Mountain Dew and 5 packets of fire sauce with shitty jokes on them.

To prove my case even further that Mexicans are the shit are and you are not, I spent some time touring around my home town observing and gathering data. I meticulously analyzed the type of people in the landscaping business for almost a month. After compiling all the data, I carefully organized it and came out with the chart below.

America-Fuckin-Idol

I’m going to be quite honest. I am tired of American Idol. It drives me fucking nuts. There is no where I can go that this culture poisoning show is being discussed. Wait, I hear one of those voices,

“Then don’t watch it if you don’t like it.”

Let’s see numb nuts, did I ever say anything about watching American Idol? No, and I’m tired of hearing that. I can’t imagine another horrific way to spend my evenings than watching that show. Can someone please explain to me what the addiction here is? Ah, I think I hear another one of those voices:

“The people on the show have worked hard to get there; the fun of it is watching them make something of themselves.”

What the fuck are you talking about? Watching people eat lead-paint chips and drink bleach would be more entertaining. It is very amusing to me to ask people why they like the show. Do you know why? It is because to date, of all the people I have asked, no one can really give me a reason. Are you watching it because all your friends are watching it?
Maybe if I heard someone say that their TV only works when American Idol is on, and no other channels, and that they need the superficial-uplifting messages sent to their mind in a colorful kaleidoscope of hippy-like colors to keep them from cutting themselves in the bathroom before going to bed, I would believe that. If that last sentence did not make sense, or you don’t know what a kaleidoscope is, follow the processes below in order:

*Quit current job and/or current hobby
*Find local elementary school
*Enroll self in local elementary school
*Lurn Basik englesh
*Repeat steps 1-4 until able to communicate effectively with society.

I will be honest with you. I was just in Home Depot the other day, and not surprisingly, I heard some of the check out staff talking about the final contestants on the show. Big fucking deal right? They can barely do their job as it is anyways. What I didn’t expect, was the one-eyed, scruffy looking, tattooed, suspender wearing employee, manning the color coordinating/paint desk; talking about how he was going to vote for Blake. I hope for all the dignity left in the world, this man was joking. There are two things wrong with this guy.

ISSUE #1: He is working at the paint desk, in a large hardware store. The mother fucker has ONE god damn eye. Why the fuck is he not in the plumbing or lumber section? This shit-head could bend a piece of iron pipe with his hands. He has no depth perception, and he looks as if he has been in seven Vietnam wars, so my guess is his advice on what color to paint your daughter’s room is going to be skewed. And on a side note, to all you parents, stop worrying about color coordinating your kids room. It’s fucking annoying. They are just going to fill every square inch with insipid posters of Christina Aguilera and Justin Timberlake. The harder you fight your offspring about this, the faster they will turn their room into a horrific museum displaying the scantily clad Paris Hilton, which of course, means that your kids are doing drugs, and there is nothing you can do about it. In fact, your child most likely has already been arrested for a DUI.
ISSUE #2: He is talking about voting for an American Idol. Fuck that noise. This dude looked like he had seen some hard times. Shit, up until I heard him utter that terrible phrase, I was sure he could kick Clint Eastwood, The Rock and Chuck Norris’s asses simultaneously. Now I take comfort in knowing I could lift his sissy-ass upside down and shake the fucking change from his shameful red-neck looking attire. Shame on you One-eyed Home Depot Pirate man.

The problem is that I can not go anywhere, without hearing about this god damn show. I don’t want to hear it anyone more, so shut the fuck up. I have a right to go out into public and not hear how Blake’s beat boxing mixed with his soothing man-voice puts people at peace. MARIJUANA puts people at peace. Cool Ranch Doritos puts people at peace. American Idol, does not put people at peace. Get a life you fucking bastards.

You all have no idea how happy I am that the show is over. I guess that girl won, which is nice. Now she can burn in hell. But at least the conversations will come to an end. Fortunately though, the producers and executives of the show reported the final episode had the worst ratings since it debuted. It was estimated that six million fewer viewers watched the show when compared to last year. Do you know what that means? This fuck fest of melodic performances is taking on water. Blow enough holes in a ship and it will sink, regardless of all the efforts to make it do otherwise.

Go fuck yourself American Idol :)

Welcome us back home...

Yes, we are back. You don't need to tell us that was the longest break we have ever taken, because we already took note of it. We are clearing the dust off our desks, turning the power up and putting our thinking caps back on.

Whilst we do the above tasks and compose literature for ye' minds, memorize this fun fact below:

There is a town in New Zealand called:

Tetaumatawhakatangihangakoauaopokaiwhenuaakitanarahu