Tag Archives: 2012
Hey- you know what? There’s no need to pretend that Marshall Mathers III isn’t lucky garbage anymore. None.
I had to move recently, hence the hiatus. If you’re a writer or an artist, moving is extra hell because of all the books. Big glossy ones for the coffee table (if applicable), thick reference tomes, and oodles of little half-finished sketchbooks.
In 2012, my friend Chay and I worked as audience members for the taping of a popular game show, hosted by Steve Harvey. We helped to provide a diversity that was wholly absent from the proceedings.
If it were up to me, this entire website would be nothing but pictures of womens’ tits. Oh, except in the sidebar, there’d be a link to all the reviews I’ve written about Transformers toys. If it were up to me.
Wait a second… it is up to me. It’s my site. So why don’t I?
Good question. I could probably make a tidy income doing it. So why not?
Imagine if legendary and revered comedian Bill Hicks hadn’t died in 1994.
What if- just hear me out- he supported Trump in 2016? How would that make you feel about him? What if he’d gone “right-wing”, pre- or post-9/11? Would he still be referenced in Tool songs?
No need to thank me. I won’t say “I told you so”. I won’t rub it in, or be a “sore winner”. I’m good like that.
Appreciate that the desire to gloat is strong, however. The Left made their bed; now they can die in it. They were so terrified of Bernie Sanders’ predicted landslide victory that they lied, cheated and stole to sabotage it. I’ll never, ever forget or forgive their cowardice and manipulation. But this is a “comedy site”, so let’s put all that aside for the time being. Continue reading
Welcome to the third installment of our perennial perusal of Halloween sweets. If for some reason this one’s not enough for you, here’s the first, and the second. It’s a lot of sugar and junk, so pace yourself.
I don’t want to admit that I’ve been eating a lot of candy corn this fall, but earlier I cut myself and bled orange. I’m surprised my craps aren’t pumpkin-colored by now. I make a lot of sacrifices for this website, but at this point I feel like Martin Sheen in Apocalypse Now, writhing and bleeding, muttering “shit… I’m still eating this shit.”