Friday, April 25, 2014


The dreaded “N-word” the only ethnic slur that is so powerful and potent that people avoid speaking its name, as if the mere mention of it would bring upon pure hatred and ultimate evil amongst the masses.

A word that is not like any other, it is a true double-edged sword, when spoken by a select few under certain circumstances it could be considered a term of endearment, a sign of camaraderie, but when spoken out of anger it becomes a dagger that pierces the heart of the intended target and makes him/her feel less of a person.

The phrase, “Sticks and stones will break my bones but words will never hurt  me” obviously does not hold true, at least not when it comes to this word and the pain it could cause when used by ignorant hate-filled people.

The word is muttered behind closed doors, where people feel safe from any repercussions and/or retaliation as a result of doing so, in a sense they feel as if they are breaking some kind of unwritten law when it crosses their lips. 

Now I don’t personally think that everyone who uses this word is a racist.

Sometimes, I think that people don’t realize how horrific this word is and what it could do in the wrong hands, they just do so without thinking and/or concern with who they may hurt in the process.

I’m white, so white that I’m almost transparent, so I can’t pretend to understand the magnitude of devastation this word has caused over the years, all the people it has hurt and why it holds the power it does.

To me, it is nothing more than hateful garbage that has no purpose in our world, completely meaningless and totally insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

But then again, as I said prior, I am white and never had to feel the sting of such a word.

I won’t sit here and tell you I’ve never used the word because that would be a lie, but I will do my best to avoid using it at any and all costs in the future, because it is not something that should be taken lightly, regardless of which ethnicity you are.

But I can honestly tell you I’ve never used it in a hateful manner, only in a mindless joking kind of way, which by the way does not make it any better but I’m just being truthful here.

The bottom line is this, we as whites don’t understand just how deep this word cuts, the damage it has done and will do moving forward, and so as with all forms of hate speech we need to remove it from our vocabulary and let it die the death it deserves.


Wednesday, April 16, 2014


The study of all things ass

Kiss Ass - this one is obvious, these people walk around with their lips permanently glued to another’s ass, most of the time it is the ass of a person they look up to, want to be with and/or want to be, in a strange deranged stalker kind of way.

Tight Ass - I’m not talking about someone who has buns of steel here, but rather someone whose ass is so tight that it squeaks when they walk, they have no sense of humor whatsoever and spend all their time trying to hinder everyone else’s good time.

Wet Ass – After dropping the kids off at the pool, or taking a dump for you less than civilized people, and not wiping properly thus leaving debris in the hole and causing the victim to walk around like he/she just got off of a horse, the end result is shit stains in their underwear and a wicked rash.

Ass Face – When someone is so hideous that their face looks like an ass, and not a nice firm plump ass either, but rather a hairy greasy pimply fat ass, like something you would see peeking out of the pants of a stereotypical plumber or Rosie O' Donnell.

Asshole – When someone is a dick for no apparent reason, they go around causing havoc and making people’s life miserable just because they can, these screwballs actually get pleasure from being a complete tool bag.

Eating Assushi – The eating of an ass, of course not literally because that would be morbid, but using your tongue to lick the puckered brown starfish as if it was a lollipop, chocolate of course.

Asstacular – When an individual has such an amazing ass that you can’t help but to stare, and touch, but be careful with the touching because unless the person is a freak you may end up with sore jewels and/or even in jail time.

Ass Blast – Deliberately shooting gas out of your ass with the hopes of being obnoxious and extremely disgusting all for a good laugh, the whole time trying not to shit yourself in the process, because then the laugh would be on you.

Ass Neck – When someone is so fat that the back of their neck looks like an ass, and depending on the person, it may also smell like one too.

Talking Out Your Ass – When someone says something that makes absolutely no sense whatsoever, complete and utterly buffoonery is spewing from their head hole, the shit they are talking stinks more than a nice juicy fart.

Asshat – When someone’s head is so far up their ass it is as if they are wearing it as a hat, these people act like complete idiots and are totally unaware that they are different than us normal people.

Well there you have it people, a whole lot of ass terms that you may or may not have been familiar with. Sure there are more, but being the lazy bastard I am, this is all I had the energy for.

You’re welcome!


Tuesday, April 15, 2014

“When I Die”

When I die I want my eulogy to be given by a rapper, preferably someone crazy like Eminem or Lil' Wayne, with backup vocals by Rihanna, that would be sure to get the party started.

When I die I want my coffin to be filled with punch, with me in it, giving a whole new meaning to “spiking the punch”.

When I die I would require people to come to my funeral dressed as their favorite character from The Walking Dead, they could take pictures with my lifeless body as if I was a zombie, and if they so felt the need to complete the illusion they could even stab me in the head.

When I die I want to be buried faced down ass up, that way as they are lowering me into the ground I can tell them all to kiss my ass.

When I die I don't want to be buried like everyone else; I want to be propped up on the front lawn as if I was a scarecrow, with glow sticks glued into my hands so on a windy night I would look to be raving.

When I die I don't want my funeral be a sad and somber place, I want it to be upbeat and loads of fun, instead of pallbearers I want puppeteers who would work my corpse as if I was in Weekend at Bernie's.

When I die I want pictures taken of me in my coffin, throwing up gang signs or deuces, then have the picture put on a postcard all sent to all my enemies with the line, "wish you were here" written on it.

When I die I want to be put into a stew and served to all my loved ones, that way we could be together forever, or at least until they went to the bathroom.

When I die I want an open casket at the viewing, with me being buck naked inside, that way, of course after rigor mortis sets in, all the girls can see exactly what they missed out on.

When I die I want my body to be burnt and my ashes mixed with the finest marijuana money can buy, to be smoked by all my loved ones so that they can experience all my awesomeness even after I’m gone.

When I die I want to be buried in my back yard to see if another one of me would grow, of course it would need to be fertilized with straight crap and lots of alcohol, but if everything works out as planned it would all be worth it in the end.

When I die I want to be buried with a hot dead babe, that way I would never be alone, and if by some crazy chance I did come back as a zombie I would have a built-in friend with benefits, that I could eat afterwards.

When I die I want to come back as a ghost, not one that haunts houses, but rather one that haunts the locker room of a women’s beach volleyball team.

When I die I want my tombstone to come equipped with a built-in HD television, so that way it would give people a reason to stop by and stay for a while, but no porn channels because I wouldn’t want some nasty bitches dropping their seed in my flower bed.

When I die I want a rumor started saying my passing was because I didn’t forward a chain email, really scare the shit out of the stupid people.

When I die I want to be buried in a coffin shaped like a vibrator, because you know, just in case God really is a she.


Tuesday, April 8, 2014

“Gangsta Blogging”

The world of blogging is very boring, uneventful and totally lame-o (sorry for the harsh language).

Something needs to be done to change that, we need to spice, and shake, things up…yeah I went there.

We should make it more like the gangsta rap game, but instead of the whole East coast-West coast rivalry, we could do something like mommy bloggers vs. humor bloggers…word.

I would call myself 2 Ply, because I’m white and handle more shit than toilet paper, and I would drop more dope blogs than a drunken waitress with vertigo drops dishes yo.

My gang sign would be one hand over the other, like as if I was playing slaps with myself, forget the bat signal, punks better beware when they see the 2 ply sign go up in the air fool.

We all know the pen is mightier than the sword, it’s an ink filled gat mother fugger, rat-tat-tat-tat tat ta tat like that, and I never hesitate to put a blogger on his back…okay sure we don’t use pens, but you get the picture.

I would start smoking the chronic as if I was Dr. Dre, burning more trees than a forest fire, turn my keyboard into a bong and call it Puff the Magic Dragon because that’s how I roll homie.

I would put hydraulics and spinning rims on my desk chair, this would help me feel more hood like when I laid down my flow, showing all those bitches and bastards just how gangsta I truly am when I spit my blogs.

I would even come up with my own dance, something cool like the Stanky Leg or the Superman, every blogger would be doing it and all the haters would be cursing my name because the wannabes are green with envy.


We could use different color fonts to show our allegiance to our respected gangs, or clicks if you want to be all Hollywood, and anyone caught blogging in the wrong color would get dealt with, proper like.

My blogs would be going platinum so fast that all those other bloggers wouldn’t know what hit them; my blog would look like a jewelry store with more bling than Nelly’s grill, while theirs looked like a flea market.

Hoes from every area code would be reading my shit, making my Google AdSense account rain like a monsoon, drinking champagne and eating caviar while you other scrub ass bloggers are drinking a 40oz Olde English and wondering where your next meal was coming from.

I would write the blogging equivalent as such rap masterpieces as “Peanut Butter Jelly Time” from The Buckwheat Boyz or “Because I Got High” from Afroman…I was going to blog but then I got high, now I’m browsing Facebook and liking everything I see and I know why, cause I got high, because I got high, because I got high.

I am going to be the king of the mountain, standing on Mount Rushmore, while all you other freaks are traveling underground like a bunch of angst-ridden mole people.

Deuces, I’m outtie like a belly button, better wear a vest because it’s pop pop like some rolled up bubble wrap up in here, forget ballin’ we straight blogging playa.

Pour some liquor out for my fallen bloggers.