Archive

Archive for October, 2011

Findaparty.org

October 27, 2011 18 comments

Are you bored?  Are you a loser?  Are you a bored loser that wants to get wiggedy wiggedy wasted?  Then stop crying about the party you didn’t get invited to and find one yourself!

You need to use your super hacker nerd skills and log on to Findaparty.org!  Kablam!  Kablamblowblooblam!

Your Friday night is suddenly above average!  No more Battlestar Galactica reruns!  More like Miller, Labattica, three rums!  Our party database lists everything from the high school house party next door to the ice cream social at the elementary school!

Want to get fucked up with the governor at an official state dinner?  Want to brag to your friends about the hot babe you hooked up with at that random bowling banquet?  Our party finder makes that all possible.

But Mr. Commercial Voice Guy, what if I’m not a nerd?  What if I’m a traveling party circus?  Don’t worry whiny boy, Findaparty’s got you covered!  The fine people over at FloppySoft have created the most revolutionary mobile app in the fuckin’ history of mobile apps!

Want to impress your friends and pull some secret party out of your ass?  Our party radar will help you with that.  It fucking beeps when a party’s nearby!  Does Facebook have submarine-ass shit all inside of it?  NOPE!

Scared that people are going to try and hide their parties from us?  Pfffffffff!  Our high-tech, infrared laser technology can recognize any gathering of three or more IN THE WORLD!  Just don’t blame me when grandma shows up at that weird alien sex party that you just needed to attend.

Drink up  nerd.  You’ll never have a boring night again!

Fall is Here: A Nursery Rhyme

October 17, 2011 28 comments

Fall is here
Fall is here
Time to drown myself in beer
Football, football everyday
Shut up girlfriend, go away
I’m not gonna rake or do any chores
I’ll sit on the toilet ’til I get bored

Oh, Fall is here
Fall is here
Carving faces from ear to ear
Grab the sharpest knife that I can find
The neighborhood kids all run and hide
This year’s pumpkin looks like a monkey
The second one I made is a heroin junkie

Yes, Fall is here
Fall is here
My favorite season of the year
Bobbing for apples until you drown
Pass out naked dressed as a clown
The DJ sucks, he’s wearing a mustache 
I’ll rip his face off if he plays the Monster Mash

A Plea to Idiots: Stop Driving Into Buildings!

October 12, 2011 16 comments

It happened again today. Not once, but twice! That’s right, during one afternoon TWO SEPARATE CARS crashed into two separate buildings.

My city is suffering through an idiot epidemic. No lie, over the last two months, there have been at least twenty-five different instances in which a car has driven directly into a building. What the fuck is the problem here?

When I was a kid, I remember wondering if anyone had ever driven their car into a building. I even remember asking my parents if it had ever happened. They had no idea because apparently, people in the 80s and 90s still came with brains.

These days, kids are going to grow up thinking it’s the coolest thing since Jason to drive your car through some brick and mortar. Hey Jimmy, let’s go drive-thru McDonalds. LITERALLY!

What the fuck is wrong with you idiots? If you don’t know the difference between a fucking store and the road, you shouldn’t be able to leave your bed, let alone drive. Just stop it!

It’s apparent that there is no end in sight to this extremely fucking stupid trend. But maybe I can help. Here are some tips to keep yourself from driving into a building:
-Have a brain
-Actually use your brain (important, yet difficult for some)
-Don’t do stupid shit
-Keep your eyes open
-Be a real human being
-JUST FUCKING STOP IT!

Seriously, I hope this makes a difference. If not, you’re all fucking dumb.

Categories: Humor Tags: , , ,

Jasing Love

October 11, 2011 7 comments

Three contestants.  The world’s most ineligible bachelor.  Only one will win my love.  Or, I’ll secretly date all three of them.

I’ve been trying to hunt down love for too long.  Enough is enough.  It’s time for a reality dating show.   The chase for love is officially on!  This is Jasing Love.

Jasing Love, the hottest reality dating show since MTV's Next.

All three contestants were selected based on their personal ads alone.  Unheard of levels of mystery and suspense that have never been seen on a dating show!  What will they look like?  I won’t know until the first date and it’s totally weirding me out.

CONTESTANT ONE: Haircuts, 22

Sexy HaircutsI ring her doorbell and fondle my hair.  “How’s about one of them sexy haircuts?”  She invites me in.  She sits me down in a chair and wraps me in my magnificent hair cape.  She struts to her radio and turns it on, letting out a giggle that I’m actually extremely irritated by.  The hottest funk track I’ve ever heard starts to play as the haircut begins.  The singer whispers “sexy.”

I could get used to this!  A haircut everyday until the very last hair on my body has been sexily cut.  It doesn’t take me long to notice that there actually isn’t anything sexy about the haircut, though.  In fact, it seems exactly like any haircut I’ve ever gotten, just louder.

She shows me the finished product.  I look like Kevin Federline with a pony-tail!  I’m freaking out when she starts to talk.

“Sexy haircut!  You look just like my boyfriend!”

I pay her the forty-five dollars I owe her for the haircut and get the hell out of there.

CONTESTANT TWO:  Grandmother Kiss, Old

Older womanThis date starts at a restaurant.  The classiest Burger King in town.  Picking her out of the crowd of seniors there is harder than a game of Where’s Waldo.  They’re all wearing the same outfit.

I track down my lover coming out of the bathroom.  Our conversation gets intense immediately.

“I just want to be wild!  I want to be free!” she tells me.

I knew I was in love instantly.  She gives me a super hard grandma kiss and I start to daydream.  Images of things we’ve never done together start to play over a song so beautiful, it’s a crime to call it by name.  She takes off from our table and launches an all-out peck offensive on the helpless restaurant.  Kiss bombs falling from the sky, blowing up tables left and right.  Somehow through the chaos, I make my way to a floral display next to the soft drink dispensers.  I pluck out a single plastic flower and hand it to m’lady.  The weird thing is, she doesn’t even realize she’s on a dating show.  She just thinks I’m being romantic.  She’s safe.  For now.

CONTESTANT THREE: Business Sexual, 28

Strictly business.

“Very professional to meet you,” I say as I hit her with the firm handshake/business card combo.  She’s wearing a business suit with business stockings and business glasses.

We sit face to face as if it were a job interview.  She presents her figures.  Only three hundred for that!?

“I think the chase is over,” I say in my emotional confessional scene.

The Jasing Love logo flashes on the screen as my name invades the credits.

NEXT WEEK ON JASING LOVE!

Is Grandmother Kiss pregnant?  Business Sexual shares her LinkedIn account!  Jason posts underwear pics on Facebook!  Sexy haircuts for the whole cast and crew!  Three way or prison brawl?  Is Jason an asshole!?

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A big thank you and shout out to @FreakArms for coming through again with an awesome logo.  Follow him on Twitter already!

Conspiracy Theorists Convinced That Conspiracy is a Conspiracy

October 5, 2011 16 comments

A group of middle-aged, skullet wearing men gathered outside of city hall late last week.  Holding signs that featured the phrase “Truth?” and the Illuminati eye, everything seemed completely rational and important.  As the crowd displayed a total lack of organizational skills and screamed a bunch of different words completely out of unison, I could sense the chaos in the air.

I needed to be a part of this revolutionary moment.

The first man I approached at the protest was a certified AARP member.  He, like all of the other men gathered here on this mysterious day, had a skullet.  But his was slightly more unkempt and sparkled like the eye of the Unicorn.  He was wearing a tie-dyed Grateful Dead/Illuminati combo t-shirt.  I could smell the anger in his breath.

“Who do you work for!?” he screamed at me as his mustache flapped in the wind.

“Jason.”

“He’s implanted with a computer chip!” he screamed to Jesse Ventura’s seventeen long-lost, identical twins.

I was able to diffuse the situation with my extensive knowledge of cryptozoology.  Within seconds, I had him talking about the rally.

“We don’t even believe what they’re making us believe.  And what they’re making us believe isn’t even what really happened!”  For a moment, he realized that he was, in fact, a lunatic.  “The conspiracy is a conspiracy!  It’s not real!  They’re making us believe it!”

I needed to know how the government was pulling off such an extravagant stunt.

“Come with me to our clubhouse!” he sprinted five feet down the sidewalk and stopped, out of breath.  “There is no clubhouse, that’s a conspiracy too!”

I made the mistake of asking him the group’s intentions.  My ears almost threw up hot wax.

“Look above you, it’s in the chem-trails.  They’re hypnotizing us!  Roswell, DNA, computer chips, missing socks. The Illuminati owns your urine!  They own everything!  Why do they want us to believe this?  I’ll tell you how they’re doing it!  Airplanes that fly!  Radio waves!  Nuclear reactors!  The board game Battleship!” he was almost crying. “They implanted a computer chip in our brains when we were sleeping!  They’re controlling our thoughts!”

Chem trails!?!

I asked him what conspiracy they were being forced to believe.

“Exactly!  That’s all part of the conspiracy!” he squealed.

Ok?  It didn’t look like I’d be getting an answer.  I pressed harder.

“We all want answers god damn it!  Why does NASCAR exist?  How do magicians do their tricks?  How does Little Caesars make a whole damn pizza in five minutes!?  I don’t want this in my brain!  Can’t you see what they’re doing to us!?”

I looked high and low.  I didn’t see anything.  Just as I told him that he’d be alone for the rest of his life, the police showed up.

“The movement can’t be silenced!” screamed a mustache as I tiptoed away.