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Weather.com is the Stuff of Fucking Nightmares.

11/6/2016

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​     Weather.com is a portal to the seventh level of hell.  Who knew?  On the surface it's just a quaint, unassuming little website that you go to to find the weather of anywhere across the globe.  But in reality it's a fear inducing, doomsday spreading, hysteria driven juggernaut on a path to destroy any happiness in your life. 

      I've noticed this a while ago as I visit Weather.com from time to time to, you know, check the fucking weather.  So I started to compile a collection of these because I felt like it was my duty as a citizen of the world to warn the masses of the terror vortex that is Weather.com.  These are a few of the completely unaltered headlines I've collected so far.  Cue AC/DC's Highway to Hell and go....


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What's the temperature out today? Massive toxic waste in Tampa?!?!
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Should I bring a jacket? And bug spray! Goddamn Zika still!?!?!
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I heard it might rain on Tuesday. Oh no! Not Asia!
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Well at least it hasn't happened. There's just a chance.
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Fuuuuuuucckkkkk!
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Maybe I can barbecue outside today.... Oh no, I have to warn grandma!
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Don't wanna close my eyes. Don't wanna fall asleep. Cause I'd miss you baby...
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That's not bad. Change can be good. Please just no more horror.
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*rocks back and forth in the fetal position*
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Terminator 2: Judgement Day Inspirational Posters

10/12/2016

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Cinco De Mayo Kicks Seis De Mayo's Ass.

5/6/2014

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      How awesome is Cinco de Mayo?  It's the one time of year where every race, creed and color can come together and be Mexican for one day.  This is awesome for a guy like me.  I know next to nothing about Mexico and I don't really plan on visiting any time soon.  I'm no world traveler. I've never been out of the United States before.  I've been to Springfield, Illinois a couple times.  I may have dabbled in the Dakotas at one point in my life but that's about it.  Plus the only Spanish I know is from that U2 song where Bono yells "Uno, Dos, Tres, Catorce."  So what does Cinco de Mayo do?  It brings Mexico to me.  The culture, the traditions, the history, the food.  It drops it all right in my backyard.  I'm pretty sure this is how Mexicans feel about St. Patrick's Day.

      The first thing I did to celebrate  C.d.M was hit up a Mexican restaurant.  I really wanted to get a taste for the culinary styling of Mexico.  The one I went to must have been the only one in the city because it was packed with all kinds of different white people.  As I walked in, I was met by a sea of sombreros, ponchos and those fake mustaches that curl down the corners of your mouth. And the chips and salsa were endless. Mexico must have an unlimited source for chips and salsa.  I was able to get a seat at the bar and ordered one of these exotic Mexican drinks called a cerveza. The first couple went down so easy that by the eighth one, or ocho as the locals call it, I was feeling pretty great about this fine country to the south of us. And I was hungry.  

      So I ordered a very popular native dish which contained beans, meat and cheese.  It was all wrapped tightly in a flat, floury, almost dough like substance.  I believe they called it a Burt-Eat-Toe.  My dialect is no where near perfect and the pronunciation might be different depending on what part of Mexico you come from.  I believe the original recipe stemmed from a man named Burt working a small roadside grill in Juarez. Who knew Burt was originally a Mexican name?  Learning is fun.

      After I polished off my Burt-Eat-Toe I thought about hitting the streets.  I knew there was a festive parade getting ready to start and felt like it would really help round out my C.d.M experience.  But then Bill from accounting showed up and ordered us another round of cervezas. Then another. Then another. Then another. Next thing I know, my face is painted green, white and red and I'm karaoking "How Bizzare" by OMC with my new best friend, Bill, from accounting.  

Then there was blackness.  Deep, dark, memory erasing blackness.  

I remember a lime being squirted in my eye.  
 
More blackness.  

I tried to impersonate those guys who played poker with Ethan Hawke in Training Day before they beat his ass.  

Blackness.  

Trying to describe the one George Lopez episode I watched in the waiting room of a Jiffy Lube.

Black.

      I woke up the next morning not knowing how I got home or in bed.  There was a strange woman lying  next to me who stirred.  She smiled and moaned slightly, "Hola Papi."  I didn't know what that meant but I felt like I successfully celebrated C.d.M the way this strange woman's Mexican ancestors would have wanted.  Cinco De Mayo kicks the ass of every other day in May.  It's an El Camino compared to a donkey pulling a cart of fruit.  It's Speedy Gonzalez compared to all those drunk mice that hang out with him. Cinco De Mayo is that five star resort in Mexico while all the other days are that area just outside the resort where you could be kidnapped. I can't wait to do this again next year.  Vivian La Mexico!

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Lot Walks Into A Bar

4/10/2014

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      When was the last time you read The Bible?  Holy shit.  Talk about entertaining.  Especially the Old Testament.  Murder, rape, sex, incest, violence.  It literally has it all.  I’m not a religious person.  I understand why people seek out and need religion but I also understand why people despise it as well.  I started reading The Bible because I ran into a huge creative block in my blogging quest.  I was frustrated and was in need of some inspiration so why not go to “The Greatest Story Ever Told."  It did not disappoint.  

      Below I wrote one simple scene about the biblical character Lot, if he had walked into a bar for a drink.  If you don't know the story of Lot, this scene will fill you in.  Now keep in mind, everything I wrote about what happened to Lot (other then the whole walking into a bar thing) is completely ripped from the pages of The Bible.  I put the actual Bible verses at the very end so you can see for yourself.  All I can say is if I knew this kind of smut was at my disposal as a kid in Sunday School, I would have spent more time reading and less time drawing Ninja Turtles.  Enjoy....



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My Last Hours as a 29 Year Old

3/7/2014

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      I turn 30 tomorrow.  Well by the time I post this I will be 30 but for the next few hours I’m 29.  Honestly to me, it’s just a number.  I know it’s an important number but still just a number.  I truly believe it comes down to how old you want to feel.  It's a state of mind.  If you want to feel like a kid again and sit in front of the T.V watching Looney Tunes and eating cereal, enjoy!  If you want to feel seventy, go to dinner at 4 and complain about the soup, please be my guest!  It's all your mental attitude.  

      Although I feel this way, I can't help but listen to all the comments from people when they hear I'm turning the big 3 0.  “It's all downhill from this point.  Can’t drink as heavy as you use to.  Your body is going to start breaking down now.”  I don’t really believe any of this but it got me thinking of things maybe I should stop doing.  Things that were fine when I was a "youngster" but not so much now.  So to commemorate the dying hours of my twenties, I tried to fit in all the things I could think of that someone in their thirties wouldn't or shouldn't do.  Also I wanted to prep myself for the years to come.  So here they are.  In my final hours....



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Girls of St. Louis Mardi Gras 2014 (NSFW)

3/3/2014

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Gangs of New York Valentine's Day Candy

2/14/2014

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Valentine's Day is just around the corner.  Tell the ones you love just how much you care with Gangs of New York Candy Hearts...

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Screw You Buzzfeed (Unless You're Hiring)

2/6/2014

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Moses
   Everything I write and post on this site is carefully edited, re-edited, chastised, discussed and then posted when it reaches perfection.  Sub par writing is unacceptable and is not only thrown out but burned hoosier style in a big metal barrel in the backyard.  This is why I’m going to make it very clear that there will be no lists of any kind found on this website.  No lists of top five Harrison Ford earrings, top thirty Instagram dog fails, twenty best blah, blah, belch.  List writing is lazy writing.  It says you can’t form complex sentences and put them in succession to create a paragraph. It says you only have fragmented things to say and can only say them if there’s a number in front.  I hate lists. Dare say, I loathe them. Here are three reasons why:


1.    Firm believer that the only lists should be with Santa, in my favorite sports highlights and on Letterman.

2.   The first list ever made was the Ten Commandments and event that had some flaws.  “Thou shall not covet.”  I’m single and drive a crappy Pontiac.  My neighbor has a smoking hot wife and drives a brand new Audi.  Commence coveting.

3.    List makers are assholes.  Probably.

      I just don’t understand why people love lists.  Buzzfeed.com consists of almost nothing but lists and they only get a few million views a day.  I...think that is a lot of people actually.  I would do some despicable, horrendous things to get that kind of traffic.  On second thought, I could write a list or two.  I could be really good at it.  Who am i kidding? I'm probably awesome at it.  Maybe one of my lists could impress the higher ups over at Buzzfeed.  Then they could offer me a job. Give me my own office. Maybe let me drive around the company car or party on the company yacht. Maybe snort the company's coke off the breasts of the company's hookers.  Sorry, I just watched The Wolf of Wall Street. If they did that though, I would shut this little shit hole website of mine down before you could say "I love lists."  I swear I will.  Call me Buzzfeed.  I love you!

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