Tuesday, July 28, 2009

A letter from the editor

Dear fellow Hung Bardians,
Hello! How's it going? Sometime, when no one is around, I like to piss myself and then blame it on my cat, for fun! This makes me feel like a big man and I'm never going to stop! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ok, so I don't do that but I say that just to illustrate a point: That was some strong bourbon.

Self appointed editor (who is so bad at spelling, he immeadiatly abdicates the position to anyone other than Brian),
Anton

P.S. I'm not drunk right now, but rather am tired... and on my lunch break... and bored... Have you ever wondered how many kittens eating you alive it would take before it stopped being cute? Not many, that's my guess. Ooooh! Oooooh! I did get Dragon Ball Evolution in on hold (Its the live action affair). However when I look at the cover it makes me sad (and laugh too, wow, who thought this was a good idea!?). It seems that these actors want to be taken seriously (or so it is implied by the cover) and sadly, no one ever will. I actually kinda hope that the film is one and half hours of everyone powering up followed by some super kinky makeout scenes with the ladies that cause rocks and mountians and stuff to explode and whatnot. I realize though that this is only a dream and the actual movie will be even more lame. Ah well, back to work. I hope some homeless guy sees some invisible monsters and runs out screaming. That would put a smile back on my face.

Monday, July 27, 2009

Story Time!

So a few months ago the wife and I were going to see Angel's and Demons down at Newport on the Levee. While we were parking out in front we encountered a guy about our age (30ish) and he asked if we lived anywhere near Sparta, KY. We replied no since we live down in the Covington but he was fairly desperate to get to Sparta. The guy, who we'll now call Mike, said he was an Army ranger who travelled around to different Army bases and trained troops on one thing or another. He said his Mustang Cobra had broken down on the other side of the river and he didn't know anyone in the area and didn't have any way of paying his way there because they didn't take credit cards. The whole time I could see where this was going of course... asking for money in one way or another. But this guy looked pretty normal; dressed a lot better than me, smelled a lot better than me and looked a lot better than me.

We found out how much money it would cost to get him to Sparta via Taxi; about 60 bucks. We exchanged numbers and he even gave us a key to hold onto until we got our money back. We gave him the cash and saw him to the Taxi and he was off.

I checked the phone number as soon as we got inside... no dice. Dead number. I decided not to worry about it and to enjoy the movie. I tried doing some research on the guy when I got home, detecting the bullshit, and couldn't find out anything. As far as I could tell there wasn't a military base in Sparta. His name was fairly common so it was hard to track a specific person down without details. I even contacted the Military Police via email to see if they had any records of this guy. a criminal intelligence specialist from Fort Campbell confirmed that he didn't have any record of Mike. Of course I wasn't sure what kind of records I'd need to find his name so this was good enough for me to finalize his story's bullshit level.

I continued to do some research but without any success. I marked it up as a 'lesson learned' experience... until this past Friday.

I was in line, waiting for a table at Don Pablo's near Newport on the Levee with the wife when in walks none other than Mr. Mike with another bro and two women. I looked at the wife and asked for a confirmation and she said something like "Oh fuck that's him all right." My adrenaline pumped hard and I was suddenly super excited to be alive. Mike went to the bar while the rest of his posse waited in line for a table. I asked his bro "What's that guy's name?" and he replied "Mike." I quickly followed Mike to the bar and tapped him on the shoulder. He was trying to brush me off but I gave him the low down right quick. In so many words I told him he owed me 60 bucks. He said it was a case of mistaken identity. I wasn't falling for his bullshit this time. I listed everything he had said before and he produced a sweet business card with his name, another confirmation, and his number. Not wanting to fall for his shit again I called it right there to make sure it was in fact a real number. Sure enough it was. He said to call him tomorrow to work something out. I could detect most of the bar area looking at the two of us expecting a fist fight but I was keeping my cool pretty well. I went to sit down and was pretty livid.

A few minutes later he calls ME and says he recalls the situation and had just forgotten about it... more bullshit. Long story shortened, I have his assumed 'real' name and his 'real' phone number. Hopefully we get to meet up soon and I can claim my 60 dollars. He felt so bad about it apparently that he wants to give me some Funny Bone tickets... If he stiffs me again I will pay to find this douche's home address.

Friday, July 24, 2009

The Hoggy's Challenge: Anton E-mail

I totally spanked the Hoggy's challenge for my birthday. Anton was excited.

"If you complete the hoggy's challenge than you will receive a stupefied stare and a startled gasp from me followed by one (1) high-five along with dry heaving and crying while muttering "An affront to god... that was an affront to god and all that is holy... I... I renounce you god, how can I be expected to believe in you after that! Damn my eyes! Someone... anyone... pass the meat sticks. Mmmm, meat." I assume that Matt or John or someone will try to comfort me but I'll be all like, "No, it’s ok Jack (that’s what the cool kids call people they know, don't ask me why). I've had a good life." At this point I'll stand up dramatically and put on my leather jacket and aviator sunglasses dramatically and push my chair in considerately. "Catch you cats on the flip-side." and then I'll walk outside, jump on some guys motorcycle and try to ride off into the sunset but as I'm about to leave the parking lot some little unattended kid comes off to me and says, "Don't leave us mister. Please don't leave." And I’ll be all like, "Sorry kid, it's too late for me. Here, hows'about I jump those 10 cars as I leave." And the kid's all like, "Sure, whatev', I'm bored now." and then I'm all like, "Prick." And then I go to do the jump, the bike catches on fire, I miss the jump and crash and die screaming like a startled little girl.

So yeah, go ahead and do the hoggy's challenge. See what happens, jerk.

P.S. Whatever happens, I stand by my high-five. 'Cause finishing the challenge would be Awesome."

Thursday, July 23, 2009

The New Old-timey Flex Masons

I'm just so proud. (click on the image to see it larger)

Coming Soon!

Available at a Brian's near you starting Saturday the 25th!

Friday, July 17, 2009

God bless you, Mr. Cronkite

Walter Cronkite has passed away tonight at the age of 92. He covered the allied landings at D-Day (By flying into Normandy in a fucking glider.) and wrote news stories while riding in bombers during WW2. Everyone who gives a shit about news knows who former NBC Nightly News anchor Walter Cronkite is, but I know and respect the man as the original Captain Motherfucking Obvious in news for his reporting in Vietnam.


"I'm Walter Cronkite, and this war is some unwinnable fucking bullshit..."


Would I feel this way if my father hadn't served in Vietnam? I'm guessing not. And that's the way it is.

"Cronkite is aginst us in Vietnam??? FUCK!!! GAMEOVER MAN, GAMEOVER!!!"

Sunday, July 12, 2009

A literary fuck you

Fuck William Faulkner. I started on the seemingly fun task of reading all the Pulitzer Prize winning novels. Then I got to A Fable, and fuck Faulkner. The whole thing is like one sentence and really it's just a rip off of the new testament and a big waste of time. So don't read this.

Remember the "Let Jesus Fuck You" scene from the Exorcist? This is the novel equivalent.

Thursday, July 9, 2009

The Politics

What's with the politics these days? It seems that everywhere you look you see people saying things like, "Ohhhh, Democrats, they make me so mads!" or "Republicans suck big time!" It seems to me that what we really need is a new political party with fresh new Idears tm. and a new mascot and a new secret handshake (only to be used in case of a party emergency or whenever). I assume that this task has fallen to me so I've gone ahead and developed a new party off the top of my head. We will be called The New Old-timey Flex Masons and our logo/mascot will be a unicorn riding a dragon riding a rainbow (The unicorn and the dragon will be wearing aviator goggles and aviator scarves which will look totally rad I assume). Our motto will be, "Oooooh Snap people who aren't us" and we will run for offices under the platform of free ice cream for all. We will push to have the national mascot or whatever changed to a Dinosaur jamming out on an electric acoustic guitar; his name will be Dinosaurous Rocks! tm.. For the new secret handshake we will punch each other in the face until someone cries. (The last person who cries at our national convention gets to be the presidential candidate!) I bet more people watch our national convention than either of the other two lame parties (The convention will also be hosted by future-robots who speak in guitar-jamming-solos and have a secret vendetta against all of humanity. Also, pretty ladies in skimpy tank-tops and sweat pants and leg-warmers will be dancing the whole time! See, wouldn't you tune in for that!) Ooh! Ooh! We would also have party sleepovers with scary movies and popcorn. Ooh! And we would settle all in-party arguements with knife fights! Ooh, and I'm the boss of the Party. Are you guys with me!?

P.S. Justin is right, Fuck You Sarah Palin.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Another Fuck You

Fuck Sarah Goddamn Palin. Who drops out of politics because they don't like people making fun of them? Jesus fucking Christ. Fuck her. Retarded ass fucking bitch with her bad genes causing retarded ass babies. Mrs. Palin: fuck you, fuck your shitty fucking daughters, fuck you and go choke to death. "Boo-hoo Letterman made fun of me. boo-Hoo." Grow a set if you want to stay in fucking politics.

Fuck you, and not in the good way. Well ... ... ok that way too.