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.

Girlies, you dont know what you've been missin'

Got no real idea what to write about.

The Anime Girl showed up for work a few weeks ago after her sexcapade to Niagara Falls with her boyfriend. Ever since she's been back I've noticed something different about her though. My fresh-faced, flat-assed, no tittied pixie from Asia no longer has that sparkle in her eyes. She looks hardened. The reason for her change in demeanour? I'm beginning to suspect that maybe the anime girl lost her ass virginity while on her Niagara Falls fuckfest. Perhaps her boyfriend was not as gentle as he should have been when he deflowered the anime girl and did her anal style. Perhaps the anime girl is now disillusioned and thinks romance is dead. She couldn't be further from the truth.

Man, if the anime girl lost her ass virginity with me... it would have been a whole 'nother story.

Check it:

I would have Josh Groban playing in the background. Scented candles would be lit all throughout our hotel room. I would wrap my arms around the anime girl's waist from behind and sensually whisper in her ear "did you make sure to wash inside your asshole, baby? Cuz I dont want any little suprises on my pecker when I pull out, if you catch my gist". The anime girl would signal "all systems go". I would lube up and again whisper. "Are you ready, baby? On the count of three I am going to gently enter you and we're gonna start making sweet ass-love, okay. Come, lets count together".

"One..." We'd both say in unison. And as the anime girl would begin on the "two" count I'd plunge my manrod balls deep in her tiny asshole. After a pump and a half I'd ejaculate and go into convulsions, where I swear I look exactly like a white Sammy Davis Jr. The anime girl would then make me a sandwich and tidy up the hotel room while I watched Smallville on tv.

why I have been attempting to fuck anything with a orifice

I guess it all started when I noticed the anime girl was away from work for three days in a row. Against my better judgement I asked NewCootch if she knew where the anime girl was.
"Why, do you like her?"

"No," I lied, "I just heard a rumour that her department was gonna pink slip some people. So I was wondering if she's still around". All fibs.

"She's using up some of her vacation time. She should be back next week."

Instantly my heart soared at the news that I would soon be seeing my angel-faced, flat-assed, asian wet dream, once again.

NewCootch continued, "Yeah, she went to Niagara Falls with her boyfriend".

I was crushed. "Her boy... she went to Niagara... with her boy... her boy... >SOB<" Like someone open-fist slapping my nuts from behind, NewCootch's revelation was unexpected... and it fucking killed. There is only one reason why anyone goes to Niagara Falls with their boyfriend/girlfriend, and that reason is to indulge in marathon length, narcotic fueled, I-wanna-devour-every-part-of-your-body-including-your-asshole-and-perhaps-even your-shit type sex. No real player goes to Niagara Falls anymore to gamble. Everyone knows the best gambling in Ontario is found in the secret backrooms of Chinese restaurants in downtown toronto. You tell the waitress the secret password (in mandarin) and you are either admitted to a gambler's paradise or some Bruce Lee / Bolo Yeung motherfucker comes out from the restaurant kitchen and spin-kicks your ass up and down the street if they think you are a cop.

Anyway, I was fucking bummed. That night I invited NewCootch to my house so I could drown my sorrows in her labia juices. We were watching Beauty and the Geek. We were sitting on my new sectional couch. NewCootch was rubbing my dick through my jeans and I was eating a sandwich. It was near the end of the show where two of the Beauty and the Geek couples were competing against each other in a quiz. One of the questions for the "Beauties" was "In the field of electronics, what does L.C.D. stand for?" NewCootch became excited and said:

"oh, oh, I know this one".

"What does L.C.D stand for?" I repeated the question.

"FLATSCREEN" NewCootch yelled out.

I nearly shit myself laughing. I immediately lost my hard-on and NewCootch was pissed at my making fun. She told me to "fuck off" and left my house.

The anime girl came back the next week. Maybe I'll get to that in a day or two.

cock-blocking the wigger

I was taking a piss when I first started to feel the affects of the weed. I was upstairs in Sterg's bathroom hopelessly trying to keep from splashing urine on his heated bathroom floor tiles and his body-fat scale beside the toilet.

"Whoa... I'm pretty high, yo". I said to myself as I was looking at the cabinet mirror continuing to piss like a race horse. "wwwwhhooooooaaaaa, IIIIIIIII aaaaammmmmm preeeeetyyyyyy hiiiiiigh, yooooooo" I kept repeating, watching myself in the mirror until I realised I wasn't even coming close to pissing in the toilet any longer.

Fuck.

What a mess.

I cleaned up what I could with Sterg's $100 a pop bathroom towels. I then washed my hands and carefully hung the towels back on the towel rack. With a little luck, noone would be the wiser. The bathroom floor and toilet seat looked as good as new, but I am pretty sure I fucked up and short circuited Sterg's electronic body fat scale.

I exited the bathroom and made my way downstairs where I had left Mally, Sterg and the two strippers we picked up from the neighbourhood shithole, Olivia and Samantha. As I was walking down the stairs I kept on thinking "okay, there are two vaginas and three guys... how is this gonna work?

Olivia was this pretty hot black chick I spent practically my entire week's salary on. I first saw her on stage and I thought "whoa, this chick is super-fuckin-hot, yo". After her set I went looking for her. I saw her talking to some fucking 90 pound wigger wearing a P-Diddy t-shirt. As I approached Olivia, she looked alot thicker than what I could tell previously when she was on stage. I normally dont dig thick black chicks but Olivia had a pretty face and I was betting I could get at least a handjob from her by the end of the night. Besides, at that point, me and the 90 pound wigger had already made eye contact, and in that nano-second where our eyes met we had already decided that we fucking hated each other. So, even tho I normally dont dig thick black chicks, I would make a play for this one just to cock-block the wigger.

As I walked up to the wigger and Olivia, I had no idea what I was gonna say. I put one hand on the shoulder of the wigger and Olivia and opened my mouth and waited to see what was gonna come out: "Excuse me" I started, "I think I may have dropped my half ounce bag of weed. Do you know if you've seen it around? Oh wait... its in my jacket pocket... I'm such an idiot. Sorry 'bout that". And with that I walked back to the VIP table in the back of the club where Sterg and Mally were getting shitfaced.

Two rounds of shots later, Olivia came 'round back to the VIP, minus the wigger. She walked up to me and said: "do you really have half an ounce of weed on you?"
I smiled, laughed and answered "no, but that line was better than the only other line I could think of".
"Which was?" She asked.
"Which was... has anyone seen my thousand dollar bill, I think I may have dropped it by accident... ahhhh never mind, here it is in my pocket with the others".

part II - smoking weed and watching Smallville

I dont know what to title this and I'm late for work

Saturday is Sterg's birthday. He wants to go to the ripper's. I am a little hesitant and anxious about the outing. You see, I haven't had any meaningful, female social interaction for the better part of a month now. I am afraid once I catch a glimpse of a dancer's cooter all hell might break lose. I may lose what little common sense I have and start busting out the credit cards and start spouting off bullshit and whatever line I can use to attract the interest of a fine female "companion" (when we all know the best line is " I gots money, bitch").

Yesterday I had to sell TRE. Watching its price drift aimlesly everyday, after the failed takeover, was like getting ass-raped by with someone wearing a fibreglass condom. With the sale, a complete lack of judgement took over and I bought 550 shares of TBC at 2.64. The only reason I bought it was because I wanted to see if I was the unluckiest motherfucker on the planet. TBC has had a pretty good ride the past month. I wanted to see if me buying the stock put a damper on its rise. This is not a long term hold.

Next week I signed up for a service where I do not have to pay full price for my trades. Starting monday I may shift where some of my money is. I may sell the TBC once it shows signs of weakness and pick up BVF. They just announced they dramatically increased their dividend and will pay a yield of over 6% a year. I may also pick up some BCE. 2007 forecast sounded better than expected and price has dipped to a level where their yield is now at 5%.

later skaters

that one hurt like a motherfuck

My plan to buy TRE and hold for the takeover offer blew up on me. Sure, things started out well enough. I bought at 10.11 on friday. Watched it go to 10.85 before the close. Sweet. I was all pumped to have the weekend over with so I can get back to work, ignore my responsibilites and continue to watch TRE rocket upward long and strong like an erection on viagra. But then... disaster. The fuckers that were supposed to buy out TRE backed out of the deal. The stock plunged downward. 9.60, 9.30, 8.90, 8.50, 8.30, 8.10. I felt sick to my fucking stomach.

I wasn't so much upset that I had then lost almost $500 (on paper), as much as I was pissed that I wouldn't have the pleasant distraction of waiting for a take out bid while bored out of my fucking skull at work. Anyway, the company is very profitable one and probably undervalued when compared to its peers so I will probably hold on and set a stop/loss between 8.25 and 8.50 and hope it never hits. Tomorrow may probably be another shit day for TRE, but I can always hope for a rebound. Oh, and by the way, TRE closed at 9.05, so not as bad as it initially looked, but still a kick in the nuts, for sure.

QC today went down another 8 cents. WIN up 12 cents. NEM up 11 and GDU.UN up 5.

Next post will be something more entertaining, I promise (hope).

stuff I have been doing

Alright, the previous several weeks have been spent in self-imposed isolation. The reason for my seclusion, you ask? I've been studying the companies on the Toronto Stock Exchange in an effort to rebuild my once 100% kick-ass, totally fucking incedible, boner-inducing stock portfolio. Just about 3 years ago I shed a tear as I closed out my portfolio in order to put a downpayment on my house.

Recently, however, I've felt the ich to get back in the game. So starting 2 weeks ago and ending just last friday I totally fucking emptied my bank account and made my initial purchases. Whats the most I can lose...my house by defaulting on my mortgage payments? Perhaps. My job? Quite probably, as the last two weeks I've been logged in my investors account, while at work, and clocking the bid and asks by the second as the markets move up and down. The prospects of sticking my nose in the anime girl's asshole and eating out her snapper from behind couldn't tear me away from my computer monitor.

My purchases two weeks ago:

225 shares of General Donlee @ $6.85. This bad boy is presently trading at $7.50 and pays me a distribution of rougly 12% a year. If I had a gun I'd be busting gunshots right now.

800 shares of Neo Material Technologies @ $2.50. Presently trading at $3.04.

200 shares of Quest Capital @ 3.30. Now trading at $3.23. I may have fucked up the timing of this one as I think it may dip a tad lower. There is a report out on globeinvestor.com that says Quest is looking for a suitor to buy the company. I dont know if this is true or not but QC is certainly not trading like a company that is about to be sold (at least not yet anyway) . Either way, its a nice little company, I think, and if it dips below 3.00 I may have to start selling blood for xtra cash to buy more shares. We'll see.

My Purchases this past Friday:

175 shares of Sino-Forest Corp at $10.11. Closed friday at 10.85. Now this motherfucker is a company that trades like its about to be bought out.

320 shares of WIN @ $5.65. Now trading at $5.55. Very volatile stock that came out with some pretty good fucking numbers last week, in my personal estimation. This one could go alot higher, or alot lower. I have my stop/loss set in at $5.00. I may have fucked up the timing with this one as well. I guess I'll see further on Monday.

The above in in no way a pitch for the above companies. Just an explanation and the result of what I've been doing the past few days.

Download the Butter08 song "ButterFucker"...

...do it now, motherfuckers, cuz that shit will blow your fucking minds.

The Butter 08 concert I went to a million years ago may have been the best show I've ever been to. The evening started out not unlike any other. I was stealing booze from Mally's parents liquor cabinet and Mally was riffling through his mom's purse looking for money we could use to procure hand-jobs, later on that night.

The concert was at a small-ish venue called Lee's Palace in downtown Toronto. I drove as Mally proceeded to get fucked by drinking the majority of the hootch. The hootch was 75% vodka and 25% diet Fresca. However, after Mally finished with his share, the hootch was 65% vodka, 15% diet Fresca and 20% backwash. We parked about 15 minutes walking distance from the club and I hit my fair share of the hootch, also, as we made our way.

By the time we stepped in the joint I was rocking a pretty good buzz but Mally was completely fucking toast. He disappeared to the bathroom for the rest of the night.

Left alone in the club I was scoping the joint for pretty chicks to hit on when just about the ugliest girl in the world came up to me and said "I like your shirt". I was wearing my Jack Kerouac t-shirt. Its what I normally wore when I wanted to score points with the hippie chicks at school. Anyway, I cant remember the ugly chick's name but she was a writer from California. She travelled North America writing reviews of theatre productions, musicals, plays, ballets, and other shit like that. I told ugly writer chick that the only musical I saw was Cabaret.

Ugly Writer Chick: Did you like it?
Hootch: It was alright, I guess.
Ugly Writer Chick: What about Shakespeare? Do you like Shakespeare?"
Hootch: OOHHHH NOOOO WAY!! I didn't mind seeing Cabaret but I fucking hate Sharespeare. Yep, for musicals I definately have to draw the line at Shakespeare.
Ugly Writer Chick: Ahhhh... Shakespeare didn't write musicals, dumbass.

ack, I'm tired of this story. The night ended with Ugly Writer Chick blowing me off for some 90 pound cross between Jarvis Cocker and Rivers Cuomo, who thought he was cool because he wore a sports blazer and jeans. Fuckin douche.

This comic was funnier when I was high

Once Upon a Time in WhiteTrashVille (part II)

To Be Continued...

I promise these will not get any better

To Be Continued...

yes, I know this is a huge waste of your time

WARNING: The following post is even gayer than this picture:







I've already posted this pic before and it really has nothing to do with what I was intending on writing about, but fuck it... I'm too tired to write much of anything now anyway.

When I first took the above pic I didn't even realize there was a huge statue within the frame of my shot. I initially took this picture because I thought the black guy in the bottom right hand corner was Denzel Washington. Imagine my shock and horror when he turned around and I saw this:



YIKES!!! I have no fucking idea who this guy is, but rest assured he is no Denzel. Judging from the teeth this guy is obviously some ill-conceived hybrid between a beaver and James Brown.

Parts of me will always love NewCootch...

... the penis part, primarily.

Alright, as I arrived for my job 30 minutes late, sat myself behind my work computer and prepared for a busy day of downloading porno, I noticed that I had received an email from my African brother from another mother, Mr. X.

Mr. X sent me a link to a Bristol-Myers Squibb initiative designed to raise funds to fight AIDS / HIV. You visit this site https://www.lighttounite.org/ and light a cyber candle. My understanding is for each candle lit, Bristol-Myers Squibb will donate $1 to AIDS organizations in the U.S.

So click the link. Light a fucking candle and remember, the sooner we find a cure for AIDS, the sooner we can resume having unprotected sex with multiple partners.

a bit of part II of whaterver the fuck it was I was writing about

Hey. I just got home about 30 minutes ago and am on the verge of falling asleep for probably the majority of the day. Sterg called at about 2am and asked me to pick him and his girlfriend up from the airport. They went to Mexico for the week for a wedding. After we dropped off his girlfriend at home Sterg told me how this one bartender he befriended in Mexico gave him the ingredients and recipe to make something called Liquid Viagra. "It works on both guys and girls", Sterg kept saying, so it certainly sounds interesting. Although I hope the "works on the girl" part does not include her growing a 6 inch penis. I'll probably write about the Liquid Viagra cuz, like I said, it sounds pretty interesting. Ingredients include a whole bunch of shit you're not supposed to bring over from foreign countries, like tree bark, food products, uncut cocaine...

AAAAhahahahaha, just kidding... there are no food products in the list of ingredients.

Alright, enough of the above. I'm gonna continue with previous account, and just like my love-making, I'm gonna go for as long as until I fall asleep.

Okay. Where the fuck was I? Oh ya. That day was fucking weird cuz as soon as I woke up I had a funny feeling it would be a bad day. Now, I'm not talking about "shit, I just got a $10 parking ticket" type of bad day. I'm talking about "full-out unlubricated ass rape courtesy of Dikembe Motumbo" type of bad day. And just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, guess what, motherfucker? Patrick Ewing decides to join the party and challenges Dikembe to a "sword" fight.

Time of event: ASAP

Location: 12 inches inside your asshole.

So I'm stuck in the theatre with Patrick (the guy from the previous post, not Ewing) and to make matters worse, Tera spots us and is making her way over. I hadn't shaved in a couple days, I think I was wearing a shirt I had excersized in the day before, my jeans were probably fuckstained from the time the I was watching The Golden Girls and decided to fuck the crack in between my couch cushions. Basically, what I'm trying to say is I was really in no condition or mood to spend an evening with the fairer sex - especially Tera. You really had no idea where the evening would end up when you rolled with her. You just held on as tight as you could and hoped not to find yourself lost and O.D'ing in a ditch somewhere a few minutes outside of hell.

"Hi Sterg. Hi Mally", Tera greeted and hugged the guys. "Whats going on Hootch", she added giving me the once over and not hiding the look of distaste on her face. Bitch, I thought, last time I saw you I had my dick balls deep in your mouth. How are you gonna play me off like that, now". Anyway, I kept quiet.

Tera looked pretty good tho. I normally dont dig the "super tight jean and t-shirt so snug your diamond cutter nipples are threatening to rip through the fabric" type look. But Tera was pulling it off.

ACK!! I started with a draft of something else, but then said "fuck it" and wrote this instead

After suffering through the cock-punch that was the Indianapolis Colts / Dallas Cowboys football game, a couple sundays ago, I made plans to stay in for the entire week. I was feeling kinda sour cuz I lost a couple hundred bucks by betting on perhaps the ugliest motherfucker in the history of the world, save for Jared from Subway, Peyton Manning.

Now, dont get me wrong, I normally dont mind dropping several hundred dollars during the course of an evening. Although, when I do spend that kind of dough, I usually have the prospects of imminent, crazy-ass, alcohol-fuelled, marathon gorilla sex to take the sting off of the financial burden. However, that evening your mother was not available.

Anyhow, it was Monday, the Christina Milian video was on where she's half naked and dipped in jet black shit, and I was frantically looking for my industrial sized container of vasoline, when Mally called.

Mally: Hey, we're going to the movies. Wanna come?

Hootch: Naw, not really. I was just about to go to bed.

Mally: Come on, you have to come.

Hootch: Why?

Mally: Its just me and Sterg right now. If we end up going to the movies just the two of us we'll look like fags.

The theatre was crowded for a monday. We were there to see Casino Royale. Me and Mally arrived first. Sterg and Patrick came shortly afterward.

Hootch: What the fuck, man. I thought it was gonna be just us three. What's Patrick doing here. I fucking hate him.

Mally: I dunno. Maybe Sterg thought with even the three of us it'd look kinda gay.

Hootch: Three guys going to the movies is not gay. Like, what, we're gonna bust out into a fuckin menage in the theatre?

We all say hello. Patrick wastes no time in telling me he woulda taken the Cowboys in the football game. We sit at a table and talk about The Killers video, SpiderMan 3, playing ball, video games plus a whole buch of other stuff while we wait for our theatre to open. Just as we're standing up, about to get in line, Sterg recognizes someone I didn't feel like dealing with that night:

Sterg: Yo, isn't that Tera (pointing at the far end of the concession stand)?

Mally: I think it is.

Hootch: (knowing it is) No, man. That looks nothing like Tera.

Mally: It is her, man. I can recognise those implants anywhere.

Patrick: You guys know her?!

Sterg: Hootch went out with her a few times.

Patrick: Oh man, Hootch, brother. Can you hook me up? I mean... would you mind?

Hootch: The best way to score with Tera is to walk up to her in the concession line and tell her you have a crystal meth lab in your basement. She might even start blowing you into oblivion before you get a chance to order the nacho combo #2.

Mally: So whats the story, Hootch? Did you ever end up banging her?

Hootch: Who, Tera? A gentleman never kisses and tells, Mally.

Mally: ...

Sterg: ...

Patrick: ...

Hootch: Yeah, we fucked a few times.

Patrick: For real, does she have implants? Cuz I love implants, man.

Sterg: No, Patrick. Shes walking around with a serving tray underneath her shirt. Of course they're implants.

Mally: Its like, she can jerk you off with one hand while setting up a row of shots on her tits with the other.

Hootch: Never was a fan of the implants, yo.

Sterg: Its cuz you love cock.

Hootch: What. I still think I have a hairline fracture of both orbital bones from when Tera was bouncing her tits on either side of my nose... and when was that? Like, fuckin last winter.

Mally: What the fuck is that anyway... that bouncing her tits off your face move that chicks do. Are we supposed to like that? I never know what I'm supposed to do. What do you guys do?

Sterg: Hey, I think Tera saw us.

Sure enough, Tera saw us. She smiled, waved and started making her way over to our group.

Next: part II
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Everyone should check out this painting that LastLife did and has up on her blog. Its, like, the exact opposite of this post, which is to say its not a complete and total waste of your time. She keeps it tight from start to finish and the end product blows my mind everytime I see it. Check it out under her "Woah Colors" entry. http://lastlifeinmyuniverse.blogspot.com/

later skaters,

Hootch

My Football Team Player Introductions; Part 3

Mally. Mally is a good friend. He has saved my life on a number of occasions. Like the time he tried to kill me, on a bad 'shroom trip, but then changed his mind. Mally is pretty much indestructible. He is about 5'10 and 275 pounds of rock hard muscle. He is like a boulder with legs... if that boulder chain smoked and only ordered drinks by the triple.

I remember once me and Mally got into a fight with two other guys at a night club. I cant remember how the fight got started, but the two guys were now squaring off against us. I was pretty sure I was gonna get my ass kicked, but before I could say "Yeeeeaaaaahhhhh, Booooyyyzzzzz", Mally had broken both guys' noses. That night I was the Flavour Flav to his Chuck D. I was useless, but Mally made me feel like part of the victory.

Anyway, Mally has a sensitive side that I want to show you all. I think the below conversation documents it accordingly. This conversation took place around 10 years ago in Cancun, Mexico. Me, Mally, Sterg and a bunch of other guys went down for the week. Mally and the rest of the other guys went out for the evening. I had tapped out at, something disgraceful like, 10pm cuz I thought I was gonna throw up. I was back in the hotel room, recovering, watching a really shit movie and masturbating to Rosie Perez (no comments on Rosie, please. I was drunk), when I heard the door open and Mally come in.

Hootch: Hey, what are you doing home so early? (said as I'm discretely putting my underwear back on, underneath the bed covers)

Mally: Ahhh, Mally got laid.

Hootch: Yeah?! What was his name?

Mally: Funny.

Hootch: Just kidding. Is she from the resort?

Mally: No, She was from Mexico City (goes into the bathroom)

Hootch: Mexico City?! Whoa.. thats kind of a risky proposition, no? Anyway, I'm sure you were careful. What was her name?

Mally: Mally cant remember exactly. Something weird.

Hootch: And they say true love is dead.

Mally: Mally is gonna be using the bathroom for a bit. Do you have to go before I close the door?

Hootch: No, I'm good.

Mally: Mally is going in. (closes door)

Hootch: Mal, why do you keep referring yourself to in the third person?

Mally: I dunno. Mally didn't really have a good time tonight. Mally is hoping by referring to himself in the 3rd person he will mentally and psychologically disassociate himself from the previous few hours.

Hootch: Why, what happened? Is everything alright in there?

Mally: Yeah...I think so.

Hootch: Whats going on?

Mally: My dick is bleeding.

Hootch: You're dick is bleeding!!

Mally: Yeah, my dick is bleeding.

Hootch: Your dick is bleeding and you think everything is alright?!?!

Mally: Its only bleeding a little.

Hootch: I dont know how to tell you this but your dick bleeding just "a little" is no consolation, my friend.

Mally: Its really not that bad. You wanna see?

Hootch: No. I dont wanna see your bleeding dick.

Mally: (comes out with toilet paper covering his dick. Toilet paper is mostly red from the blood) Whattaya think?

Hootch: Fuck man, what the hell happened?

Mally: I think it started bleeding sometime during sex. I'm not sure tho.

Hootch: Oh, I guess you didn't notice right away cuz the condom was covering the blood?

Mally: I didn't use a condom.

Hootch: What?! You banged a chick from Mexico City and you didn't use a condom?!

Mally: I didn't have the chance. She just jumped on me in her room... I dont think she was really wet, tho. It hurt a little. Then when I started to see a little blood I thought "Wait a second, something may be wrong."

Hootch: Yeah "may be wrong".

Mally: Anyway, I pulled out and my dick was covered in blood. Way more than I thought.

Hootch: So I guess thats when you said "adios bitch" and came here, eh?

Mally: No, then she blew me.

Hootch: She blew you?! But your dick was bleeding.

Mally: She said she wanted to.

Hootch: Yeah but, you could have said "no".

Mally: (shrugs shoulders) Eh. Whattareya gonna do? I didn't want to hurt her feelings.

Hootch: (starring at Mally in disbelief)

Mally: By the way, you can finish whacking off to Rosie Perez, I'm going back to the bathroom.

My Favorite Thing to do at Work

At work, I sit beside the high-volume community printer. Being in such close proximity to the printer I see when all the special, client sensitive reports get printed. It normally goes down something like this:

Someone will approach the printer with a stack of official company letterhead. They will remove the plain 8 x 11 paper from its tray and replace it with the previously mentioned company stationary. Right before they close the tray, enabling the printer, they'll make an announcement out loud to the department: "Ok, everyone. I am about to print a really high-profile, super important report on company letterhead. Please refrain from printing any of your work on this printer until I advise otherwise and not a moment earlier. Thank you for your attention and servitude".

This, of course is my cue to open my Internet Explorer, go to Tbone Stallone's blog, click "print" on the tool bar, "number of copies: 500" and "print" again.

The challenge is to accomplish the above before the goof printing the special report has the opportunity to walk back to his desk and print out his own work on the intended letterhead.

The real payoff comes when that same individual walks back to the printer, expecting to see his financial report or project proposal but instead sees "The Pitfalls of Not Murdering Your Ex-Girlfriend" by Tbone Stallone on the company letterhead.

Fucking priceless.

Part 2 in my 10 part series: Football team player introductions

One thing I particularly enjoy about my football team is how tight we are. Sure, from time to time, we have our arguements and disagreements but I know when push comes to shove there is no other group of friends I'd want in my corner. I'm pretty certain, in a time of need, those guys would do anything for me, and I hope they know I'd do anything for them as well. Over the 4 seasons we've played football together, we've developed a bond more akin to being brothers than team-mates. During that time period we've confided in each other and expressed our personal hopes, dreams, fears and insecurities. To tell you the truth, I dont think there is anything about those guys I dont know. And there isn't anything about me those guys aren't aware of either. We share a profound intimacy with each other that I haven't even come close to duplicating in other aspects of my life.

That is why it brings me great pleasure to bring you the 2nd part of my 10 part series "My Football Team Player Introductions". In this istallment I'll introduce you to perhaps the best pure athlete on the team. His name is Adolpho... wait... or is it Alphonso? Shit, I can never remember the dude's name. Anyway, he's the Italian guy on the team... or, hold on... was he Spanish. Regardless he was one of the white dudes on the team... although he does have an affinity for ugly white chicks with enormous asses that black guys seem so fond of, so maybe he was black, just light skinned.

Anyway, me and him were tight. Adolpho/Alphonso possessed a million dollar body built for speed and a 10 cent brain built for maintaining minimal electromagnetic activity. Every single play Adolpho/Alphonso would run the same pattern. Deep. You'd tell him, "Okay, Adolpho/Alphonso, lets run a quick hook. Run 10 yards, turn around, the ball will be right there. Got it?" The answer back was always the same. "Got it. No Problem". So, we break huddle. Line up. The center snaps the ball. The play is drawn up perfectly. The quick hook is wide open. The QB delivers the ball in rhythm. And where is Adolpho/Alphonso? As the ball sails behind him, Adolpho/Alphonso is 75 yards downfield running like fucking Forrest Gump on Ecstasy.

I remember one time in the playoffs Adolpho/Alphonso told us he would not be able to make it to our semi-finals game until the 2nd half. We asked him "why" but his answers were vague and not very forthcoming. "Just because, ok? There is something I have to do. I'll be there for the 2nd half".

The day of the game me and the boys were making the necessary adjustments to our playbook to take into account Adolpho/Alphonso's absence until the 2nd half. We decided to call his home to see if he was still coming to the game. His mom answered the phone:

Us: Hi Mrs____. Is Adolpho/Alphonso there?

His Mom: Oh, hi boys. Adolpho/Alphonso went to Spanish dancing lessons with his girlfriend. Didn't he tell you?

Oh. Ma. Gawd.

Spanish dancing lessons? Fuck me gently with a chainsaw.

With the necessary adjustments we started the game minus Adolpho/Alphonso. However, just as he promised, as the 2nd half started Adolpho/Alphonso had arrived. As Adolpho/Aphonso joined the huddle, no one mentioned anything about calling his mother or knowing about his Spanish dancing lessons. No one gave a shit about that now. We had our full squad. We were ready to rumble. All we cared about was winning.

We lined up at scrimmage. Our QB read the opponents defence. He barked out the play "Sylvia Saint 69, Kaylani Lei 22, Sylvia Saint 69, set... HUT!! The play was designed for Adolpho to run a short out, 5, maybe 6 yards. Adolpho/Alphonso took-off 50 yards down the field. Our QB launched the ball. Adolpho/Alphonso caught it in mid stride, laying waste to his defender 20 yards behind him. Touchdown!!

The entire team, in celebration, ran on to the field in the endzone. Adolpho/Alphonso raised his hand in anticipation of receiving congratulatory high-fives. We offered no high-fives though. We completely surrounded him. It looked like we were about to give him a gang initiation beat-down. "what's going on, guys?" Adolpho/Alphonso asked getting a little nervous. Then, all at once, we immediately started Spanish dancing around Adolpho/Alphonso. I tried to remember the words of a Gypsy King song. I couldn't remember shit cuz I hate the fucking Gypsy Kings but I started singing anyway "TUMBALAAAYA, TUMBALAAAYA, o gi chi me ole chi me omi laro michi". I'm pretty sure I got the lyrics dead on.

Adolpho/Alphonso was busted. We all shared a really good laugh that day. We told Adolpho/Alphonso if Spanish dancing lessons were really that important to him then we'd support his decision to split his free time between football and dancing. Adolpho/Alphonso said "yes guys, it really is that important to me".

Then we beat the shit out of him.

Anyway, I'll leave it at that. A little story about my really, really good friend Adolpho/Alphonso who may or may not be black.

Later, homies.

top 10 hot black chicks I'd make the 2ble back beast with

#9 Rihanna

What can I say? Rihanna's physical attributes are proof positive that God does exist. Her mind is also proof that He has a sense of humour as well. However, we are not here to discuss the IQ of one of the music industry's hottest, most successful and exploited mindless fuck machines of recent memory. We are here to discuss her bonage factor.

I remember when I saw Rhianna's first video "Pon De Replay" (translation: I blew half of Def Jam for my contract) , I thought "I need to replenish my supply of jerk-chicken flavoured lube".

But it wasn't until her second video "S.O.S." that Rihanna really became a star in my eyes. It was with that young, fun, summertime video that Rihanna really started to climb the charts of chicks I masterbate to. She had made it all the way to #2, just ahead of #3 Clay Aiken, but not quite enough to usurp Ann Coulter who had been holding down the #1 position ever since the devil gave birth to her.

With Rihanna's third video... I dont even know what to say, yo. I'm rocking a chubby even thinking about it. With Rihanna's third video she reached a level of superstardom few have experienced; a degree of fame and artisitc greatness reserved for the likes of Weird Al Yancovich, Gary Busey, Emilio Estevez and Hall & Oates. Her video "Unfaithful" had me out of my mind. It was like a blow-up, full-out, kung-fu grip, double fisted masturbatory assault on my Higgins, my penis. I was pumping so earnestly I required a constant stream of mazola oil poured on Higgins to prevent him from catching on fire from the enormous friction being generated.

Anyway, I've gone on too long. Rihanna, hands down (and penises up) is in my top 10 hot black chicks list. Book it.

the top ten black chicks I would perform coitus with

In no particular order, the top 10 black chicks I would perform coitus with:

#10 Ciara

Ciara would make my list even if it was just on the strength of her "Goodies" video. This masterpiece is clearly the artisitc and cultural highmark in hot black chick videos I masturbate to. The way she busts out into the Matrix move then looks at you with that kind of mean snarl as if she's saying "buckle up, whiteboy, I'm about to fuck you into next week" is crazy hot, yo, crazy hot!! This video is good for at least 3 cranks a day, remarkably high when you consider the song is only 3 minutes and 23 seconds long. That works out to a ratio of 1.076 cranks per minute of video footage. A ratio that ventures nearly into porno territory.

Sure there are the nay-sayers out there who attempt to slander Ciara by saying she was born with a penis. But hey, who among us hasn't slept with someone we weren't quite certain of their gender? I know I have. In fact, just the other night I was bumping uglies with someone whose gender was difficult to determine... difficult to determine that is until she introduced herself to me as your mother.

NewCootch once told me "you can tell Ciara was a man. Just look at her hands". I thought, "trust me, you barely functioning retard, her hands are the last thing Ima be thinking of when I'm imagining Ciara sitting on my face grinding her cookie into my yap.

#9 coming shortly

My new project

Courtney Love - Mono
give us brilliant boys we wanna fuck
full of ecstasy, hard drugs and bad luck

I'm thinking about starting a new website where I will offer my services by documenting my sports bets. I'll call it "your_broke_ass.com" or maybe "win_disposable_income_to_procure_handjobs_from_hookers.com". Anyway, something classy like that.

There will be a three tier monthly membership fee for the new gambling website. A gold membership will get you my guarantee "Gold Star Pick of the Week".

Whats the guarantee?

I'm glad you asked. The guarantee is - if my Gold Star pick fails the robots on blogsforbush.com will jack you a soda. Dont be fooled, blogsforbush.com may look like a pro george bush website, but its really just about the biggest vaginas in the world (probably the same thing; you say tomato...)

Ice T - The Girl Tried to Kill Me
She took me to her crib last night, leather and spikes
broke out the rope and the dope strobe light
and started buggin', lighting candles all over the room
then she did a backflip, landed on my dick
I knew that I would be dead soon

A silver membership will buy you my second tier picks. These are the picks I make where I dont really give a shit about what happens in the game, win or lose. I mostly give out these picks to the scum of earth, you know, dog rapists, republicans, guys who spend 1 hour on their hair trying to achieve that messy, spikey hair look.

A bronze membership will purchase you a set of glossy photos of me boning chicks that look like Condaleeza Rice (aka James Brown) and incorporating wrestling moves into our love-making. The pile-driver and camel clutch are my favs. Nothing says "I care for you" quite like throwing Condy across the room after she finishes rim-jobbing you.

Body Count - There Goes The Neighbourhood
There goes the neighbourhoooooooood

Gold Star picks - Nuggets +5.5

Carmelo Anthony, motherfuckers, Carmelo Anthony.

killing time

Clipse - Virginia
Virginia's for lovers, but trust there's hate here
For out-of-towners, who think that they gon' move weight here

8pm ish

Alright. Got about an hour to kill before my ride arrives so I thought I'd listen to some tunes and hammer out some shit here.

First off, I'm thinking about cashing out the gambling account. Before, I told myself if I can get the gambling account up to $1500, I'd cash out and take the boys, for my birthday, to the dirtiest rippers' joint I can find in Toronto. I'd also print up custom made t-shirts for us that'd read "Ima drop $1000 up in this shithole". Half the time I think the t-shirt thing is a really funny idea. The other half not so much. Anyway, I'm sure it'll appear genius once my buddy Johnny Walker joins the party.

At 4:30am I logged on the online bookie website and put half the gambling account ($350 CDN) on the Sabres. I'm clocking the Sabres/Carolina game on the internet and shitting bricks at the same time. Thankfully tho, the Sabres are throwing a beatdown on the 'Canes, 3-0. I gots lucky, I guess. Lucky and stupid, an interesting combination. Lets hope the stupidity wears out before the luck.

Everlast - Black Jesus
They call me white sinner, black martyr,
live wire, fire starter,
jungle brother, red neck cracker,
freak of nature, new world slacker,

Finally the X-Files, season 2, is getting better. They got that fucking alien assassin dude out on the prowl for Mulder and Scully's ass. Good times. I think the season finale ends in a menage with the alien assassin dude and Mulder holding a sword fight in Scully's mouth.

Shiiiiyyyyaaaaat. Buffalo/Carolina 3-2 now. My dreams of a night of unparalleled debauchery hang in the balance.

A friend sent me this link http://www.nbc.com/Deal_or_No_Deal/game/dond.swf to my work e-mail address. Fucking game is addictive, yo!! For real. I cant seem to get more than 15 minutes work done before I find myself clicking the link to play internet Deal or No Deal. Check it out.

15:01 seconds before the hockey game ends. Still 3-2 Buffalo.

Oasis - D'you know what I mean
All my people right here, right now
d'you know what I mean

11 pm ish

On cnn.com I read that Elton John would outlaw religion, or someshit like that (I only read the headline), to prevent prejudice, hatred and non-tolerance. Me and a friend had a similar discussion. My friend argued that the world would be a better place without religion. "Did you know that more wars have been started in the name of religion than any other cause in the history of the world?" OK. I hate that fucking arguement. It makes no sense to me. What? Its like all the douche bags who use their (faulty) concept of "religion" as their excuse to start conflict would all of a sudden be nice guys if religion did not exist? Fuck no. They'd just look for other means to "justify" their hatred.

What I really wanna know is why is Elton John's opinion on religion news-worthy? When did he become an expert on these matters? Maybe CNN should solicit Elton's opinion on topics he is more familiar with like industrial sized turkey basters and gerbils.

Some other stuff I wanted to mention, but cant remember. Sabres ended up winning and I'm using every last shred of restraint I have to prevent myself from logging on to the online bookie and letting it all ride on whatever bet he has going on right now (cock-fights in Karachi, Horseshoes in the Himalayas?)

The voice inside my head is saying "log off the computer, Hootch. Go finish watching season 2 of the X-Files. Or if you are gonna stay on the internet, use it for what its intended for - downloading porno."

later, peoples.

this week's mission

Monday 7:43am

Alright. My brother from another mother, TBone Stallone, has issued a challenge. He is tired of the festival of mutual hand-jobs that some blogs have become. As a result, he is now out to "terrorize". In his own words "I'm going to hit 10 new blogs a day and make... 10 rude comments on them. I challenge my blog pals to do the same".

Being that I have no free will of my own I will slavishly follow. I plan on hitting the most heartless and soulless blogs I can find and leaving them a personal "how do you do." Right off the bat when I think of the terms "heartless" and "soulless" I think of two things - Republicans and dog shit. I already have a few blogs targeted but if any of you have run into any other douchebag blogs that meet the above criteria (or any other asshole blogs) email me and let me know if you'd like them to feel my toothless bite.

I was initially planning on launching Operation: I May Be Retarded But You Have No Soul, on Sunday night. However plans have changed and I now want to get started closer to Wednesday night.

I'll provide further detail later on as I am running late for work now and I have to leave before they fire my dumb ass.

Later Skaters!

My thoughts on the Artist formally known as the wigger chick on juice - aka Fergie Ferg

Even if she was a war-pig I think I would still dig Fergie's new song. Her mastery and skillful manipulation of the English language in rhyming "conceited" with "eat it" is fucking rad. It brings back memories of me in University studying Keats... if Keats was a smoking hot blonde chick who looked like she only banged black guys.

So, its official. I am going on the record as being a Fergie fan. I am particularly pleased that she decided to soften her image a little and move away from the "super-fit, angry, juice bag chick" look. I think this move will definitely increase her sales... as well as the number of times I masturbate to her on an hourly basis.

Yes, as it turns out, Fergie is firmly entrenched in the #2 spot on my list of "Blonde Singer Chicks I Would Love To Have Anal With". #1 is Gwen Stefani, and #3 is Jesse McCartney.


Last night I lost the St. Lou bet.

Tonight I gots alot of action:

Nashville to beat Detroit (this one pays off like a motherfucker if I win)
Anaheim to beat Calgary
Atlanta +5 to beat my beloved Raps
New Orleans -1.5 to anal rape Portland
Utah Jazz - 2.5 to beat the Celts
and finally Detroit +5 to cover against the Lake Show.

I'm looking forward to going 0 - 6 tonight.

Look Ma, No Thinking!!

Alright. So I was at work today, in the General Manager's private bathroom masturbating over his private toilet seat (because I couldn't find his coffee mug) to the image of me in a menage with Larry King and Wolfe Blitzer's mustache.

I was attempting to decorate the GM's private toilet seat with my spunk like delicious icing around the perimeter of a birthday cake when disaster struck. A particularly clear image of Wolfe Blitzer's mustache framing my asshole entered my mind. I exploded. I sprayed everywhere. I must have tapped into my body's emergency reserve of jizzwad as a seemingly endless stream of the aforementioned jizzwad pulsed through my penis hole. I braced myself and held on to my manhood much like a fireman would hold on to his hose.

As my emergency reserve of jizzwad dwindled, I took a look around and surveyed the surroundings. Before my eyes I could not believe what I saw. On the wall above the toilet, my random hot lobs of ejaculate had created a perfect outline of Andreas Nocioni, a forward for the Chicago Bulls. Was this a sign? Should I take the bulls today +4? Have benevolent gambling deities left me a message through my ejaculate? Probably. But I said "fuck it" with that game and took the St. Louis Blues over Columbus in the hockey game.

By the way, yesterday I went 4 -2 in my pursuit of becoming the world's worse blogger/gambler. My early success will make my inevitable demise all the more heart-wrenching and soul-sucking.

I listened to Beck's old shit all day at work today. It was fucking good.

I like Miracle Whip.

say it aint so, newcootch

I think me and NewCootch just broke up. First Kevin and Britney, and now me and NewCootch. Whats the world coming to? Here's how it went down:

I invited NewCootch over to my house tonight to just chill. You know, nothing big. My plan for the evening was to keep it relaxed and informal. Watch some tv, play yatzee, maybe some anal.

NewCootch arrived a little early. I was still going over the sports lines for tomorrow's games. I asked her to entertain herself in my tv room while I finished up on the internet upstairs. However, it was impossible to get a moments peace to concentrate with NewCootch in the house.

NewCootch: Hootch, how long are you gonna be?

Hootch: Like, 5 minutes. Okay? Turn on the tv and I'll be down soon.

NewCootch: Hootch?

Hootch: ...

NewCootch: Hootch!!

Hootch: Yes?

NewCootch: Where is the remote... oh never mind its right in front of me. Isn't that funny?

Hootch: Hysterical.

NewCootch: Do you wanna hear something?

Hootch: (mumbles) Not really.

NewCootch: What?

Hootch: When I come down, okay.

NewCootch: My brother is gonna be in the Guinness World Book of Records.

Hootch: ...

NewCootch: Do you wanna know what he's gonna be in it for?

Hootch: ....

NewCootch: Do you know what he's gonna be in it for!!

Hootch: I dunno. Having the world's most annoying sister?

Then it happened. NewCootch snapped... but not in a way you'd expect... not in a way I expected anyway. NewCootch stormed upstairs, walked into my computer room and descended upon my penis like a sex banshee outta my daydreams and with the type of enthusiasm Rosie O'Donnell would ordinarily reserve only for donuts, Selma Hayek and Selma Hayek covered in donuts. For the next 20 minutes NewCootch grinded my penis into a wet, limp submission. She was generating such force on my groin that I'm pretty sure every square inch of my pelvis is now covered in hairline fractures.

After the deed was done and I finished repainting the ceiling with my ejaculate, NewCootch got dressed and just left my house without saying a word. "That was kind of odd" I thought. Then, in the middle of nursing my bruised balls, it struck me. Me and NewCootch just had breakup sex. She had just broke up with me. But before she did she wanted to bang me one last time to forever remind me what I'd be missing - a pain in the ass... and now a pain in the balls as well.

Under the emotional and physical duress of having to deal with newly ruptured testicles and another failed relationship, I managed somehow to find the inner strength required to potentially piss my money away on the following games:

Seattle +7 at Orlando
Charlotte +5.5 at Boston
Utah +3 at NJ
Clips -3 vs Dallas
Detroit +1.5 at Sactown
NY Rangers (-125) over Florida

Its funny, I dont even like some of these games all that much, but what can I say? I'm an idiot. I'll put up my 14 - 9 blogger gambling record in my pursuit of becoming the world's worse blogger/gambler.

what I do when I cant sleep and the x-files dvd I bought sucks ass

Is it politically correct for me to refer to the New Orleans/Oklahoma Hornets as "my niggers"? Thats a tough call. Luckily, I'm a close personal friend of someone infinitely more qualified than me to answer the above question - Rush Limbaugh. He's in my bathroom right now shooting up. I think I'll ask him:

Hootch: Hey Rush. Is it socially acceptable for me to call members of the New Orleans/Oklahoma Hornets as "my niggers"?

Rush: Oh hell yeah. Of course it is. Anyone who tells you otherwise is a lilly-livered member of the socialist media. You cant be afraid to call a spade a spade... to step on some toes, sometimes.

Hootch: Thanks, Rush. Thats what I think also. After all, I'm using the term "my niggers" to denote friendship, a brotherhood. Whats wrong with that, right?

Rush: Oh... ahhh... I think there has been a misunderstanding. You mean you weren't planning on enslaving the members of the New Orleans Hornets?

Hootch: Enslaving them?! Why would I want to do that. Plus they've covered all their games this year so far.

Rush: Ah, yes... well... not even Chris Paul? He seems like a lippy nigger to me. Its not good for the moral fiber of the country.

Hootch: What? I dont even know what you are talking about any more, dude.

Rush: Never mind. Now, pass me that crack pipe. I gotta hit that.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I just noticed the online bookie I make some of my bets with has a blog. On his blog he gives out free sports betting picks. Is that the craziest fucking thing ever. Your bookie giving out sports betting advice?!?!? Classic. The last 2 weeks he went 2 - 5 and he's 11 - 16 overall. Big fucking surprise. Its like saying "yo bookie, I know you have a red hot poker so why dont you go ahead and ram it up my ass as hard as you can while I bend over for you".

Maybe I should see if I can get him to place a link to my blog on his sportsbook site. That'd be fucking gangster. I will not only give out my free picks, but I can also recommend how you spend your winnings - ie: "ok, with the cool hunny we just made by taking the Karachi CrackWhores to beat the Delaware Dirty Sanchez' in that rousing game of Horseshoes, we will now go to the corner of Church and Jarvis in Toronto to negotiate a blowjob. I'm not sure what the going rate is but I'm sure if you promise to share your weed with your whore she may go beyond the call of duty, if not spend the entire fucking night with your miserable ass".

I gotta go see if I can finish off this episode of the x-files. Its the one where Scully was abducted by aliens but she is still remaining a skeptic. Good God, woman. Whats it gonna take!?!?

I'll Take Revenge Fucking for $1000, Alex

Sumuna bitch!! The Knicks have more trouble keeping basketballs out of their basket than Marianne has keeping penises out of her vagina.

Yesterday I had a dream Marianne caught me revenge fucking her fat assed sister. I'd be doing the 700pd sister sidewinder style so I could get in a good bicep workout as I lift and hold her 150 pd leg in the air. Marianne would walk in and see us. She'd cry "Hooootch, I know things have been strained between us but did you really have to go and make love to my sister?" And I'd be like "Sorry, Marianne. I thought it'd make for good blog material..." aaaand apparently judging from the beginning of this blog entry I'd be wrong.

Anyway, a conversation I had yesterday with Sterg:

Hootch: What'd you do last night?

Sterg: Got a phone call from this super hot chick.

Hootch: Was it a wrong number?

Sterg: Fuck off.

Hootch: Haha. I've been sitting on that line for a while.

Sterg: Where'd you get it from?

Hootch: I heard it on Supernatural.

Sterg: Isn't that show for fags?

Hootch: I watch it.

Sterg: So it is for fags.

Hootch: For real, its amazing, yo. I just finished watching season one on dvd. Its fuckin awesome. Each episode is like a little movie its so fucking good, you know?

Sterg: Yeah well, Blade 3 was a movie and that sucked balls.

Hootch: You saw Blade 3?

Sterg: Yeah. Me and Mally rented it. Its shit.

Hootch: I heard that Wesley Snipes is in trouble for back taxes, or something.

Sterg: I think Wesley Snipes is fucking crazy. I think he actually thinks he is Blade... Maybe thats why he doesn't pay any taxes.

Hootch: Yeah, he figures he does enough for society by killing vampires. He doesn't need to do any more by paying his taxes.

Sterg: Hey, I'm almost afraid to ask but have you finally got 'round to doing your taxes for last year?

Hootch: No. Not yet.

Sterg: Well, what are you waiting for, motherfucker. Either start killing some vampires or get that shit taken care of.

Hootch: Yeah, okay. Me, Corey Haim and Corey Feldman are on it.

Sterg: And not to be a prick, or anything, but if you see Jamie Gertz tell her I thought she'd grow up to be hotter.

The NBA and my Bookie

Well, another NBA season has just kicked off and my balls are already tingling with anticipation and excitement. Despite being a sexy "dark-horse" pick, my beloved Toronto Raptors will end up sucking more balls than Marianne in a room full of talentless wiggers.

My bookie has an over/under regular season wins proposition bet for every team in the league. The Raps over/under number is 38. 38!! Motherfucker, just gimme my money now cuz there is no way the Raps are gonna win anywhere near 38 games.

My bookie has the Denver Nuggets over/under regular season wins proposition bet set at 42. Crazy. Over, motherfuck. When the Nuggets run no one will be able to keep up with them, especially at home.

I'm thinking about taking the Nuggets today +4.5 points over the Clips.

I'm also thinking of revenge fucking Marianne's ugly-assed sister.