Thanks to youswear.com, you now have the ability to berate and humiliate a person in any language of your choice. My personal favorite has to be Fuck Muppet in Australia. In fact, consider Fuck Muppet the name of my new gypsy punk klezmer band. The world tour will follow soon after.
I may or may not have been perusing the slim picken’s on E Harmony, and I may or may not have been able to decode the profiles. Every adjective used is definitely a red flag. An athletic woman? That probably means she’s just a pathological liar. Voluptuous? Certainly the kind of woman who carries Ranch dressing in her purse. Here’s a handy little chart for any beau looking for his blogging beauty.
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True story. A good friend of mine was never content when the box of Franzia would stop pumping red goodness from the spigot. His solution? He used to remove the bladder system from said box and siphon the last few drops like a male nurse looking to clear a blockage on a colostomy bag. Ah…college!
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Without college football on Saturday, I was left to wander the desolate cable landscape. What was really quite staggering was the programming schedule for TLC. They’ve become the destination for “freak show” television. Here’s how they must come up with their shows:
Adjective + Noun + too many/not enough of something = ratings gold.
For example: Little Christian Man with No Legs. Big Farmer with 16 Inbred Children. Sickly Thin Ballerina without a Uterus or Prom Date.
And if this formula doesn’t work, it seems that the network chiefs have an affinity with women who treat their vaginas like clown cars.
This is for all of you “do it yourselfers” out there who can only afford to steal away a few minutes from giving yourself the perfect stranger, yet have a healthy drinking problem.
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Here’s a sure-fire costume guide for those of you who have progeny who bedazzle their Wilson a2000. Toughen up, junior!
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If you really wanna keep it 100 in Serbia, you’ve gotta get yourself a tricked out Trabant. After that, the rest is pretty easy in achieving that Westside Connection mystique. Pick up a copy of the Chronic 2001, and have a couple buddies come over. Make sure there’s enough beer present, as a hydraulic system that rivals those in SoCal is going to need a lot of liquid strength. Here is a quick tutorial who are better visual learners.
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Why is it that every bully looks like Johnny from the Karate Kid? Was he a massive sperm donor in the 80’s? The only blonde-haired kids who got bullied in the history of the world were Tanner Boyle and Lupus… and we all know Lupus ate his own boogers.
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I’d eat any form of buffalo wing, whether it was made out of pigeon after a family hunted them with Lego spears, or the sauce was a combination of sewer runoff and Tough Actin Tinactin. Thankfully, this recipe isn’t so risque. Rather, this is for you Sunday morning tailgaters who are hungover as shit, but still want to put some Fire in your belly. Hit the jump for complete cooking instructions.
Signature Bloody Mary Buffalo Wings
12-15 chicken wings, separated at the joints, discard tips
1 cup pepper vodka
1 cup V-8 tomato juice
1 teaspoon celery seed or celery salt
2 cloves minced garlic
1 1/2 cups flour
1/4 cup buttermilk
2 teaspoons kosher salt (to taste)
1 teaspoon pepper
2 teaspoons garlic powder
1/3 cup hot sauce
1/4 cup vinegar, white or rice wine
3 ounces melted butter
Sure, the kegerator screams, “I wear a fraternity sweatshirt.” But for those of us who don’t like to be spanked by wooden paddles, but do enjoy binge drinking, the kegerator is where it’s at. Head over to WIRED to get detailed instructions.
