Separated at birth: the Olsen triplets

Despite the fact that all three are identical, I'd still rather fuck the lemur... less chance of disease.

Jerry Maguire would have been better if this happened:

Ray: D'you know that the human head weighs 8 pounds?

Jerry: Get the fuck out of here, nerd!!

or this:

Jerry: Did you know that Troy Aikman, in only six years, has passed for 16,303 yards?

Ray: Fag

my work spares no expense when it comes to hiring qualified individuals

Recently the company I work for hired a group of gimps and illegal immigrants to file our 2006 files. I was chosen to lead the motley crew of 3 cent an hour employees to the warehouse where they would organize and separate the 2006 files from the 2007. My manager told me that I was to stay in the warehouse with the new employees as long as it took them to organise the mountain of paperwork and to answer any questions they may have.

As we approached the warehouse I thought it'd be a good idea to welcome the newhires and lay down some ground rules:

"Hello everybody. Welcome to Shithole co. If you have any questions at all please do not hesitate to ask anybody else but myself. Despite the fact that I will only be five feet away from you, I am, under no circumstances, to be disturbed. I will be too busy playing Tetris or trying to score some weed for the weekend. Oh, and one last thing, as there is no internet access in the warehouse, please lets try and get this filing done as quickly as possible. At any point in time, if any of you have to use the bathroom, please for the sake of progress, either hold it or grab one one these communal piss bottles I will be strategically placing throughout your work area".

15 minutes later and on line 25 of my Tetris game, one of the gimps approaches me:

Gimp: I have this file here, it says October 2006. What do I do with it?

Hootch: Place it in a pile with the other 2006 files.

Gimp: What if it says December 2006?

Hootch: You would still place it with the other 2006 files. Dont even look at the month. If the file says 2006, you place it in one pile, if it says 2007 you place it in the other pile.

Gimp: Oh, I got it now.

Hootch: Good. Now, unless you're holding an eighth... (shooing him away)

Gimp: What if it says December 2007?

Hootch: Well, it wouldn't say December 2007 because we're only in March., motherfucker.

Gimp: Oh, I got it now... but what if it did?

Holy fuck, have I unknowingly died and gone to hell? As I was checking my vitals I saw one illegal immigrant make his way towards the communal piss bottles. "Finally" I thought "at least one newhire looks like he can follow directions".

However...

"NO, NO, XXXXXXX!!! The communal piss bottles are not for drinking"

I'd Rather Be In Asia

Do you watch the tv show "Search for the next PussyCat Doll? I do. I'm addicted to it. Well... actually its not so much the show I'm addicted to as it is Asia's ass. Unbelievable. Yesterday, on the show, some of the close-ups of Asia's ass were so tight I thought the producers of the program may have employed a fibre optic camera to actually shoot from inside her ass.



As purty as Asia is, she is not the only reason I watch the show. I also watch the show for Mikey Minden, uber-fag extraordinaire. Previous to Mikey Mike, I thought insensitivity and heartlessness were characteristics solely found in white, spoiled males. Mikey has proven me wrong. He is truly a cock-sucker in more ways than one.

In lieu of preparing for work, I do this:

The above is no indication of how nice Mally's mom actually is, or her present occupation. In retrospect I should have used Patrick's name instead of Mally's, but now I am too lazy to make the required changes.

Mally, if you read the above, please dont break into my house in the middle of the night, ninja style, and smother me with my own pilow till I die. Think of all the other times I helped you out and asked for nothing in return... okay well, I did ask for permission to date your 19 year od cousin, but she was banging half the neighbourhood anyway. I figured it was only a matter of time before she got to me. And even tho you said "no" and I still went out with her, I swear nothing happened!! She was mostly into black guys, but not cool black guys like Kanye and me. She was into gay black guys like Puff Daddy.

Marianne's titties; Part II - Zeno, the warrior princess and the coatcheck girl blues

Alright. So as I'm approaching the doors to the club I realise I still have a bit of hootch left. I decide to finish what I can and look for a hiding spot, outside the club, where I can stash the bottle and its remaining contents for later consumption. I find a dark little spot in the corner of an industrial-sized garbage bin, outside the doors of the club, and carefully place my bottle of hootch beside some used condoms and hypodermic needles.

I walk in the club. I can already tell who is on stage by the song that's playing from the club's soundsystem. The song is something (even more shit than usual) from Good Charlotte and the girl on stage is some eastern european bitch who looks like a manish version of zena, warrior princess. I know from experience, the more drunk I become, the more brilliant I will think my idea is of walking up to her and trying to convince her to change her stage name to Zeno, the Warrior Princess with balls. However, since I'm pretty sure I've seen Zeno previously knife a few geezers, in the club parkinglot for shafting her on the "tip" after she's let them fuck her in the men's bathroom, I drop the Zeno idea.

I pay my cover to the coatcheck girl who is reading Thomas Hardy. She looks at me with with disgust. I feel the weight of her moral indignation and its making me feel guilty for even stepping foot in the strip joint. I decide to try and start a conversation with the coatcheck girl in hopes of finding common ground and becoming friends.

Hootch: Oh shit! Why would anyone ever want to read Tess of the d'Urbevilles? You must still be in school, right?

Coatcheck girl: No. Tess of the d'Urbevilles is one of my favorite books. I think Thomas Hardy is really interesting.

Hootch: Oh... me too.

I cut my losses with the coatcheck girl and just walk in the club and look for a place to sit.

The first time I sucked Marianne's tits - part 1

It was the third or fourth time I went to see Marianne (stripper extraordinaire), at her club. I decided to walk that night cuz I was planning on getting the type of shitfaced where you dont even recognise your own car. The type of shitfaced where you spend half an hour trying to jam the key of your Toyota Tercel into the lock of someone eles's Mercedes, just because both cars are white.

Anyway, it was around 8 o'clock when I decided to make my way from my house. A last few strokes of Axe deodorant (Phoenix) for under my arms and SpeedStick (Ocean Surf)for my balls and I was ready to hit the fuckin road.

I had a bottle of Hootch to keep me company as I began the 45 minute walk. The hootch was actually putting me on my ass far earlier than I expected. The drink was made two weeks prior, at a party, and consisted of an equal mix of vodka, fruitpunch and Mally's backwash.

next: part II

Basketball Memories

Finishing up with Jimmy - he was a super nice guy who never once took advantage of his on-court celebrity... not even to score some herb for his friends. What a cock.

Sterg was the exact opposite of Jimmy with both his game and his demeanor. Sterg had no vertical to speak of and mostly stuck to the perimeter. And as courteous and humble as Jimmy always was, Sterg was just as antagonistic. Sterg's game basically consisted of lobbing up an equal mix of 3s and insults to the other team. On the rare occaision Sterg would actually hit a jumper he would always combine his made basket with a classy comment directed toward his defender like "its like I'm Michael and you're Craig Ehlo, fuckface".



Even on defence, he was relentless (with his verbal assault not his actual defending ability - Sterg was basically a pylon... only less mobile). "Hootch, Hootch, watch me", Sterg would say as his opponent would square him up, with the ball, on the outside. "Ima strip this playboy so fast he's gonna think he's back at his boyfriend's place".



Of course what inevitably happened then was Sterg's opponent would easily blow by him off the dribble. He would be beaten so bad his opponent would be taking his third step by him before Sterg's synapsis even started firing off signals to his legs to get moving.

On several occasions, Sterg's lacklustre defence caused quite a few tense moments between us on the court.

Hootch: Sterg, fuck!! Lets go, your fucking man has been using you as a turnstile all game.

Sterg: He's too fast. He's got a lot of speed.

Hootch: Sterg, the guy is like 300 pounds!!

Sterg: Its a deceptive speed.

Hootch: (shaking my head in disbelief)

Sterg: Dont get all bitchy with me, alright? I've seen your man beat you in the post a few times today.

Hootch: My man?!? I'm guarding Andre the fucking giant, here. My man is like 7ft tall. Everytime I try to front him I have his balls resting in top of my head.

Anyway, b-ball with those guys was always good times.

Basketball Diaries

Ever since my complete and utter obsession with studying the stock market, I've had little time in my life for what I deem non-essential activities like going to the gym or showering. As a result, my hairy ass has ballooned to 500 pounds and I haven't stroked a jump shot since the new year. So, last Friday, when Sterg called to invite me to play in a basketball tournament, that weekend, with him, Jimmy T and Mally, I was both excited and a little nervous. I was excited because I got an unexpected opportunity to see my friends again, and I was nervous because I would hate to perform poorly and finally have to admit to myself my once abundant athletic abilities are now fading and being erased with each bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken I eat.

Sterg's phone call brought back a ton of good memories when the 4 of us use to play in 3 on 3 tournaments quite frequently.

Jimmy T ran the point. Jimmy was a 5'5 chinese guy who couldn't shoot to save his life, but he had these motherfucking calves like watermellons and if he ever caught you under the basket, you were getting dunked on, punk... and it would be nasty. Jimmy T could put you on a poster however you wanted. You felt like seeing a leaner? No problem. Here you go - PLAAOW - how you like me now?

You wanted a tomahawk? Watch me'na. Ka-BOOM. In yo' mouf. I've even seen Jimmy T hit a 360 with power on a 9 and a half foot rim. Un-fuckin-believable. Anyway, when Jimmy would throw one down on top of his defender's head in a game, the crowd would go nuts. You could see the hootchie mamas already start to line up from the neighbouring courts hoping to seduce our point guard and, through any means necessary, procure his ejaculate in a plastic zip-lock bag they could keep in a freezer, in order to later impregnate themselves in case Jimmy ever came into money.

You know, if he wanted to, Jimmy T, right after one of his game-time dunks, could've stood underneath the destroyed basket and rightfully have requested a blowjob from either me, Sterg or Mally. And to tell you the truth, after watching him dunk, the only appropriate answer would've been "do you want us to suck your balls, as well, Jimmy?"

yo, I dont care what anybody says, yo...

...I would tap dat ass (and I'm not talking about Wil.I.Am's, you deviants). Of Course by "tap dat ass" I mean ejaculate uncontrollably at the absolute first sign of bare flesh.

Stayed home from work today. Tried to flip a stock. Failed. Fuck.

Went to the Chinese Mall, after. Not a bad place to shop if you dont mind buying stolen shit. Thought about buying a laptop. Didn't though. The fucker who was looking to sell it to me would probably break into my house and steal it the month after.

Did buy some dvd's tho. Seven movies for $21. I got The Last King of Scotland, Pan's Labrynth, The Departed, Flags of our Fathers, The Good Sheppard, Smokin' Aces and another one I cant remember. I also got season 4 of Smallville for $15. Fuckin eh.