no words can describe this.

Oh Haaay, Listen to the radio show ya'll

Don’t forget the radio show Ya’ll. Every Wednesday at 10:00 pm eastern. You can call in and talk about what you want to hate on or hate on us to our face. Click here to go directly to our radio page. We would love to hear comments, good or bad, about the show etc. Let us know what you think! Call in # is (646) 727-1161

Oh Haaay, Listen to the radio show ya'll

Don’t forget the radio show Ya’ll. You can call in and talk about what you want to hate on or hate on us to our face. Click here to go directly to our radio page. We would love to hear comments, good or bad, about the show etc. Let us know what you think!

Hey ya’ll, just a lil’ old announcement to make. We did the first radio show last night at 11:00 pm and it went really well. It was unpublicized because we were testing out the technology and trying to get the groove of the show. We put a small shout out on Facebook right before we went live.

We had about 20 or so listeners, one caller, and a whole lot of fellowship and fun. We’re going to be on live every Wednesday at 11:00 pm if you want to tune in. There is a player in the sidebar if you want to hear last nights show and upcoming shows will be listed there as well. You can also click here to go directly to our radio page. We would love to hear comments, good or bad, about the show etc. Let us know what you think!

I hate urinals.

Exhibit A: Piss on Your Pants

They are unpleasant, unsanitary, and a breeding ground for awkward experiences.  All males have experienced the breaking of the famed two stall rule and can attest to how horrific it truly is.  But the true disgust towards urinals stems from something far worse than the two stall rule; it comes from one thing and one thing only: piss spray back.

All true men have had this experience at least once in their life.  After downing many fluid ounces of a tasty beverage you are left with an aching sensation in your peter, and have no recourse other than to drain your main vein.  Upon arrival to the lavatory, you are struck with the painful realization that you are going to have to piss in a urinal and it doesn’t have the proper slope.

Now you may be questioning, what is the proper slope?

To this I respond, the proper slope is any slope which does not get piss on my trousers.

Exhibit B: Clean Living

For those of you with a vagina, the slope of a urinal is the single greatest factor in determining whether or not men will get piss on themselves.  A general rule of thumb is that if the slope of the urinal is coming towards you, the more likely it is that you will get piss on your person.  Contrastingly, if the slope of the porcelain piss-pot is going away from your stream, the less likely it is that you will receive any spray back.  Now, how the slope is so important in determining the potential for piss spray back, I cannot answer.  It is something very technical that involves physics, planetary alignment, and the temperature of Atlantic Ocean.  But what is important, is that the slope is crucial.

Now with the understanding that slope is key, one would think that urinal designers would take whatever precautions necessary to ensure that their urinal design would limit piss spray back.  But it seems as if the opposite is true.  I would argue that urinal designers are trying to design urinals that might increase the potential for piss spray back.  As if they are some sort of masochistic freaks who enjoy the idea of men getting piss on themselves.   This is precisely why I hate urinals.  They are disgusting and created by freaks.

Now a few women out there, that have the mental capacity to read, may be drawing some sort of twisted satisfaction out of the pain men suffer at the urinal.  But to these women I would say one thing: At least we don’t sit down when we pee.

The 12 days of Christmas in the most harmonic rendition I’ve ever heard.

One thing the actual lottery and this costume have in common... No chance of getting lucky.

It’s been ten years since I worked for a small cigar store at the local mall.  I learned about fine living at a rather young age, drinking bourbon, smoking Cubans, and feeling like a man at 19 years old.  There was only one problem with the job- the lotto machine.  Yes, for 5 cents on the dollar, you too could have your very own lottery machine at your convenience store. The whole idea is to drive in business, but in actuality, all it really does is drive in the worst drecks of mankind to skeeze their way into your location.

I know what you’re saying. “Hey, don’t hate on me for throwing into the big Jackpot at work, or buying a few scratch offs here and there.” I am not talking to you. I am talking to the gambling degenerates that want to play every possible number, in any possible combination, and hold up the line at the deli for way too long.  I just wanted a bagel with some butter and a Yoo-hoo, but NOOOOO. I have to hear about Tim, the waste of space over here, and all his picks for the mid day number drawing:

“UH, yeah, 321, make that a dollar strait, 3 times, on 50 cent tickets, box it for a dollar on one ticket and wheel it for the week, ok, same thing for 456 and 789, now, for the night draw I need all of these… “ (this is when they hand you a notepad of scribble and numbers) “Make them a dollar strait as well, 50 cent tickets.”

The reason they want 50 cent tickets is to avoid having to pay taxes or claim their winnings, because with the lotto if you win more than $500 bucks you owe a little bit of tax on it. These scumbags don’t care about the people behind them, they don’t spend any money on any other item in the store, and just annoy everyone around them. Then they decide to get some scratch offs, but unlike you and me, who buy one…  they buy 30 of them, and then proceed to stand and scratch off all their cards on the counter.

One thing I noticed about this group of f*ckwads is that they clearly are not employed.  No one would hire these people, they are not hireable. They don’t posses any form of a job skill other than being a degenerate, and not even McDonald’s is looking for that.  The only thing they understand is trying to win money through a system that any odds maker would tell you are horrible bets.  The “buck and dream” is still possible but for these losers it’s more like 30 bucks and a nightmare.

The only thing I hope for is for that aforementioned idiot to choke on a cloud of  scratch off dust and he lives long enough to see that he hit on his 321 bet.

Hopefully I can scample over to his body, pay for my bagel with his winnings, and blow the rest on Cocaine.

Just like their vacuums this product SUCKS too.

I’m going to file this under things we never asked for and will never buy.  The Dyson Company, who for the record makes the best f’in vacuum in the world, released their long awaited bladeless fan.  What is it you ask?  A ten to twelve inch round ring like device that is supposedly the future of the fan.  Now, if it works, I guess that it’s cool and all, but, seriously who is this for?

To begin, the device is not called a fan, it is an Air Multiplier.  This is just ridiculous, it kind of reminds me of the old Fig Newton ads.  “It’s not a cookie, it’s a Fig Newton.” I still think it’s just a cookie.  Now, here is where I ask the big question, how the hell can someone possibly multiply air? It’s not like the device will sit in your room and the air will increase by 3x or 4x, that is just impossible.  The air really is being moved from inside the ring to the outside, so technically it should be known as a air mover, or what we already have a fancy term for, a f’in fan.

But a fan isn’t fancy enough, no, not enough at all.  This is such a product for yuppie scumbags.  “Oh darling, don’t you love our air multiplier, I can’t imagine our life back in the dark times of a fan again.”

All of this technology doesn’t come cheap.  $300 bucks.  I have a fan, it’s for the bedroom, and its about double the size of this multiplier crap and it was $29.95.  Now, anyone that is willing to drop $300 on a fan, most likely has central air, or even perhaps a good old room air conditioner.  People that would most likely need to have a fan, sorry, Air Multiplier, could not afford this one.  Did you notice in the video, no one’s hair is blowing around?  You would think for $300 dollars, you could at least get some power.

If I am going to spend $300 bucks on a fan, sorry, really trying here, Air Multiplier, I want to be able to recreate my favorite scenes from Twister.

I really don’t like chain restaurants. The salads are drowning in dressing, everything comes with French fries, and there is enough salt on the plate to drain the Dead Sea. The service always sucks, and yeah, it’s only $20 bucks for dinner and all, but you can do better at home.

Below are my picks for the worst ones and would love for all of you to chime in as well.

Chilis

5. Chili’s. The ribs are dry, the service sucks, and everything is fried in one way or another. I also hate how they open the door for me like I’m going to some swanky nightclub. It’s an f’n Chili’s. Let me open the damn door myself. Also, ever notice everyone that eats there actually looks like Fat Bastard? If there ever was a case of life imitating art, this is it.

Golden Corral

4. Golden Corral. You can order whatever you want and get it for under $10, but how much is your health worth to you? Buffets are a disease center. It’s safer to eat Chinese food using syringes as chopsticks. How often do you really think they change the meat sitting under the hot light? Ever wonder how many days the same pan was used? Buffets are as dirty as those that eat at them.

Ruby Tuesday

3. Ruby Tuesday or Fridays. Both days suck. Similar outfits, color schemes, décor, attitude, and crap food. I love how inept all the servers are at life at either of these places and how clearly intoxicated some of them are. It’s a fun game to play- next time you go to one of these holes, really pay attention and see if your server is drunk. Trust me, he/she is.

Plus these places are global.

Don’t believe me?

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"Oh F*ck"

Over the weekend, Pete Doherty, former member of The Libertines, decided that in front of a German audience it would be the perfect time for a performance of the German National Anthem.

He grabbed his guitar, took the stage and began to sing his heart out. Unfortunately he decided to sing the song with the original first verse. The verse translated means “Germany, Germany above everything” a lyric that was written during the Nazi regime and after the war was basically removed from all modern performances of the song.

The audience began to boo very loudly, and Pete tried to get through the rest of his set, but after song number 5 he had to go, the damage was done, and he couldn’t recover. Pete is also Jewish and is a strong advocate of fascism and racism, and I am very surprised that NO ONE did their homework before doing the song.

How the hell, did no one check with a German person? He must have pissed someone off. He had to have. I bet he was doing some rock star bullshit, like asking for nothing but green M&M’s and polyester napkins, and when he asked the local Germans if the lyrics were correct… I’m sure he was lied to. Also call me crazy, If I were to attempt another countries National Anthem… I’m sure I would go beyond Google for the lyrics. I would do something crazy like ask a local to sing it, or ask the audience to sing it. I would never be so brazen to attempt it on my own.

Plus, if you were Jewish, would you really want to sing the German National Anthem in the first place? This seems a little sacrilegious in the first place. You know when he dies, that is the first thing that will be asked of him at the gates, “What the hell were you singing the Nazi National Anthem in front of Germans for? For crying out loud get out of here.”

Then they hit the down button on the elevator.