Monday, December 20, 2010

d&d Letters to Santa - Hairy Carrey

Dear Santa,

For 47 years I have defended you and subjected myself to the opprobrium, scorn, and contempt of friends. When you fucked up and didn’t bring me the GI Joe with the Kung Fu Grip—yeah, I was disappointed, but my foster-mom said that that Malibu Ken was a reasonable facsimile. And I bought it. But now………fuck.

I just read you got your ass fired at a mall for telling shitty jokes. That is some embarrassing shit. You work one day a year—and you can’t come up with some good material? Well, I’ve got your fat ass covered on last time, and then you are on your own. When you go back to the mall tonight try dropping a few of these beauties on the kids—they will love it:

Q: What do you call an anorexic bitch with a yeast infection?
A: A Quarter Ponder with Cheese.

Q: What's the difference between a hooker and a drug dealer?
A: A hooker can wash her crack and sell it again.

Q: What do the Mafia and a pussy have in common?
A: One slip of the tongue, and you're in deep shit.

Q: What has got two legs and bleeds?
A: Half a dog!

Q: What should you do if your girlfriend starts smoking?
A: Slow down. And possibly use a lubricant.

Q: What did the banana say to the vibrator?
A: Why are YOU shaking? She's going to eat me!

Q: What did the cannibal do after he dumped his girlfriend?
A: Wiped his ass.

Q: What do you call a ninety year old man who can still masturbate?
A: Miracle Whip.

Q: What is the difference between oral and anal sex?
A: Oral sex makes your day and Anal sex makes your whole weak.

Q: How do you kill a retard?
A: Give him a knife and say "Who's special?"

Q: Why can't Jesus eat m&m's?
A: Because he has holes in his hands.

Q: What’s black, white, and red all over and doesn’t fit through a revolving door?
A: A nun with a spear through her head.

Q: What's the difference between onions and prostitutes?
A: I cry when I cut up onions...

Well, that’s all I got for you, old man. Until then, bring me some good shit for under the tree.


Saturday, December 18, 2010

d&d News Desk Update

This just in: Pending a "stroke" of a pen by BHO the Don't Ask Don't Tell policy has been successfully repealed.

Good news for Poon who can finally enlist in the Navy Submariner program. Seaman everywhere. HOLLA!

That is all.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

d&d letters to Santa - Penalty Kill

You, missing only missing a .45 pistol and an entire smoked salmon

Dearest Sinterklaas,

Look here Fatty-boombalatty, I don't like you and I'm pretty sure you don't like me. I'm pretty sure because of that whole "Santa-brought-you-a-new-Daddy" debacle from 2nd grade. Oh sure, he seemed nice, good job and all that. Let's just ignore the life time membership to NAMBLA card in his wallet and the "Go Pedophilia" foam finger and pennant he always sported. 'You'll be fine, little PK.' Screw you.

I'm past it, not bitter at all.

Instead of a traditional gift, I was planning on asking you to kill that no-good S.O.B. who watched his shopping cart careen across the parking lot at Piggly-Wiggly and smashed square upside my sweet ass PK Mobile. What a Jerk Face. I knew it wasn't the right time to try to do my own grocery shopping. I should have left that to The Pickled Mick, (It's in the contract, read it again). Well anyway, I came in off the ledge about killing that tool-chest.

My request this year is about me. Just me. Look, I've done pretty well for myself over the years. I helped build this successful blog with a ridiculously huge corporate office and a bloated staff. We could be a virtual company, but I care about these fuck-knuckle's families. In addition to that, I have been running that Chicks with Dicks smuggling ring Taiwanese Orphan adoption agency with great success. Also, it's been 18 months since I've even thought about starting a hobo fight.

So it is with great sincerity that I ask you for something that would fill a void in my life.

Blow. Job.

(Short of that, I'd like
Julie the Hippie American Doll. She's keen)

Happy and Merry Blah Blah Blah,


Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Listen and Listen Good, Fat Man...

When the higher ups at D&D asked me to submit my letter to Santa, it was on me to go retrieve it from him as I do not recall what I wrote.

I sauntered on down to the local mall and bullied my way to the front of the Santa line via all manner of elbows and cuss words. After some intense enhanced interrogation, he finally gave it up.

I carefully uncrumpled and attempted to decipher the random lines on the paper (Seriously. Random lines. In Crayon. On manilla paper... what was I drinking!?) and this is what I think it said:


Dear Boo -

In my yearly missive to you, I have decided not to ask anything for myself. I have everything a man of 33 can ask for. A deserted building to squat in, a stolen bicycle to haul my ass around, and a Commodore 64 to bang out random thoughts on.

No, this year, I have decided to use my three wishes on you, kind sir. Maybe next year if I find myself still working for D&D for $1.20 an hour, you can grant my wish of a seedy death curled up behind the dumpster at the Big Lots with that male stripper I left bound and degraded last week (I should really go check on him...) with a needle of bleach in my arm.

I have done a lot of thinking about your personal and working situations and I hope you don't mind me wishing better for you. In doing so, I am going to be making assumptions about your life and judging you oh so hard. Please don't take this the wrong way.

Your Living Situation

It's cold where you are. So cold, in fact, that the natural weight that women put on in the winter happens year round, so there is no "swimsuit season" to work towards. This has adverse affects on both you and your wife. Time to dump her, the climate, and/or both.

Nobody is happy in cold climates. Look at the folks in North Dakota. There is not happiness there, and when is the last time you saw a hot chick from the Dakotas? It is depressing, really.

Your Work Situation

You surround yourself with elves who, while might be the right height, are never portrayed as particularly attractive.

You may not really be able to improve your employee situation and that is OK. I understand that midgets have mystical powers that can’t be found in normal portioned humans and these powers are used to make wooden trains and whistles and such. They may not fall under the child labor laws of our land, but you have got to distance in case someone finds it questionable, or before you catch something from them.

But Santa, I want you to know that I have the answer and that these are my wishes for you. Relocate and surround yourself with appropriate staff to make your life easier. I mean, you have been around forever and a change of scenery might do you good.

Wish #1: Get yourself an executive office in the tropics:

Wish #2: Hire a capable onsite office manager to make sure shit gets done back at the factory:Wish #3: Get yourself a proper elf assistant to serve as your companion. Utilize that “Naughty/Nice List” that you have to find one that is a little of both, you know?

I hope I have helped you think about some things, here. I will be back next year with my normal list of selfish wants of cash, hot cars, and fast women. If you decide NOT to take my advice, however, consider the picture above as my complete Christmas List.

Yours in Claus,

The Pickled Mick


Tuesday, December 14, 2010

'Twas the Night Before Christmas in the D&D Office....

“Whew! Long day finally coming to a close. Can’t wait to join the Down and Distant boys at the bar for our last get together before Christmas. I couldn’t have asked for a better year with a better team than I have had this year. Honestly, I don’t think that Santa could even think of anything to give me that I don’t already have. Sorry fat ass, no need for you this year.”

Poon shuts down his computer by hitting ctrl+alt+delete, but then accidentally locks it instead of shutting it down.


Unlocks the computer and then shuts it down the proper way. He continues to pack away his paperwork from the work filled day into his brown satchel…NOT A MURSE – A SATCHEL! As he stands up from his mahogany desk, he hears a faint rustling in the background.

“Hello? PK? You still here?”

A tall shadow casts across the floor of the D & D lobby outlining a large built man carrying some sort of item on his shoulder.

“Hairy! Did you bring in that three legged emu with a stiffie you were talking about handling up on? If so, I can leave…..or join…..your call.”

“HoHoHoly shit you are an idiot.”

“Santa.” Poon said with a glazed over look in his eyes. “I thought I said I didn’t need your fat ass around here this year.”

Santa turns the corner from the lobby and comes into full view staring Poon directly in the face. “I don’t think I asked your fucking opinion you perverted shit!”

He then walks slowly through the office turning over desk by desk; shattering lamps and dismantling computers in the process. Poon sits idly at his desk watching the fat man unravel at a rapid pace before his eyes. Once Santa has finished demolishing the D & D office, he stands at the open door of Poon’s corner office pulling two semi automatic assault rifles from his large bag on his back.

“Now it’s time for you to meet my two friends…Naughty and Nice. Which one have you been?”

Poon grabs his 9mm from his chest strap and unloads his clip as Santa fires back with a barrage of short spurts of fire from his rifles. Poon dives across the floor of his office while dodging bullets to crouch behind his couch. Santa stands at the door continuously firing his rounds at Poon.


Poon pulls his last grenade from crotch (which he doesn’t need at all to show that he’s got something down there…..seriously, it’s just for emergencies…..seriously) pulls the pin and chunks it right at the door. Santa grabs it mid-air and throws it out of the now shattered window to the ground below. Poon then realizes that he is done for and begins singing the theme to his favorite show to comfort him.

“The world don’t move to the beat of just one drum. What might be right for you….”

At that time he hears a loud yell. “HEY FAT ASS!!!”

The gunfire stops and he glances from behind the couch to see Savant standing right behind a now nervous and fearful Santa. Savant pulls his knife to the fat man’s throat and whispers, “You forgot Rudolph fucker.”

Savant slices through Santa’s throat and softly lays him down at his feet as he bleeds.

“You forgot Rudolph? That’s the best thing you had?” said Poon.

“What would you have said? By the way, a thank you would be in order if you don’t mind”

“I mean I know it was in the moment or whatever, but that was kinda gay. I think I may have rather him just keep shooting at me instead of hearing that crap. How are you going to retell this story with a straight face?”

“Ok dick. You want to sit here and dwell on this and explain to Rosa the maid why there is a dead fat man bleeding to death or do you want to meet up with everyone and not tell them you were singing Different Strokes while Santa Clause fired bullets at you?”

“Why you gotta call me out like that? I suppose you have a deal. First round’s on me. And by that I mean first beer, not that beer-shot-cocktail combo crap.”


Merry Christmas to all and to all a Poon night!

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

d&d Letters to Santa - Buckeye Savant

Arkansas Civil War reenactors don't play fair. Hicks!

Dear Santa,

We've always had a pretty good relationship...I still believe in you and I never lost faith through the "virginity years" or the dark days known as the John Cooper Era of Ohio State football. Eventually, I got some regular justice and the Bucks won another national championship - so it's all good.

Recently, I have tried my gosh-darn best to be good...well, apart from the sexual deviance, drinking to excess, and jokes about ethnic minorities or handicapped people (are they still considered people?). [Ed. They're super!]

Anyway, let's cut to the chase, what I really, really want this year is a victory over Arkansas for my Buckeyes in the Sugar Bowl. You see Santa, if we don't beat down the red-neck, inbred, stinky, Southerners once in a while, they might forget who won the War...and we really can't have that now, can we?

Jim Tressel has been good...he's a God-fearing, military supporting, leader of fine young men at The Ohio State University...and, by golly, he deserves a Sugar Bowl win for his team!!

In order to keep it fair, I promise to put-out a nice bottle of Bourbon for you this year - along with some hash browns (that aren't made from potatoes), and just for good measure, a couple copies of Leg Show and Shaved Orientals (which I borrowed from PK). Feel free to enjoy, but don't take them with you ...and I wouldn't go shining any black lights around them.

I am not asking for too much...let's just say Buckeyes 30 Razorbacks 21.

...and Santa, I'll owe you one!!

Merry Christmas!

Buckeye Savant

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

The Pickled Mick is in the house

Hi kids! A few months back, PK asked me about contributing to Down & Distant. You will, no doubt, be honored to hear that after drinking on it for a few months, I have decided to crawl out of the gutter, swish some lake water to get rid of the $5 bottle of whiskey on my breath and give this blogging crap a whirl.

As with all bad ideas, I was approached under the spell of alcohol because that is really the only way anything ever gets done around here. It is also the only way ideas from this group sound any good.

PK : Hey man, you're moderately funny and can really take a donkey punch, wanna write something for our blog?

Pickled Mick: Gotta check my schedule. You see, I do a lot of volunteering for the rich showing them the proper way to wear live kittens as shoes.

PK: Great! But, don't use that line, it’s not funny and kittens are my favorite food. All you got to do is be raunchy, touch the sports base occasionally, and don't be funnier than me. You also have to service Poon regularly with your mouth. You will find your D&D kneepads in your staff locker.

So, after reading through posts here and after having a few intense sessions of furious sweaty self gratification to some of the pictures, I decided to “give it the old college try”.

Speaking of, there is one
picture that I would like to call out. That picture that Poon posted along with his post of his diva like contract rider that he sends to every hotel prior to checking in is captivating. I currently have that photo as my wallpaper on my cell phone, computer, and am actually having it made into real wallpaper for my man den. Every time I see it I immediately begin to work myself like a Shake Weight.

Yours in Christ,

The Pickled Mick.

Friday, December 3, 2010

I Miss You.....

Not in a gay way, but more in a caressing my underboob kind of way. Of course this is going out to my brothers from Columbus and fellow D&D contributors. It was a hell of a weekend filled with blackouts, minivans and a whole lot of anal.......retentive guys correcting each others vocabulary. After returning to Dallas, balls swelled and 15 additional pounds of water weight (water used loosely), I realized that I have to get my shit together.

No it's not the fact that I realized that I could never be a star in a midget western, but the pure shitty feeling I have had all week. Would I trade it? Fuck your mother......and no I wouldn't. I would go back right now and destroy anything close to a liver that I may have left in a heartbeat. That is an open invitation for someone to buy me a ticket, FYI.

What do I do about this? Well, I sit around on the last day of November and have a nice drink and think of the stupidest fucking thing I could ever imagine. Next I write that down and sign this so called contract so that I have to abide by it. Before I get to the meat of this taint, let me tell you how I believe that I came to this.

During the first day/night/morning in Columbus, I had a few too many and maybe muttered something that I do not remember such as "Why you gotta call me out like that?" Memory FAIL. Retelling that story when I returned back to Dallas arose the question, "How much whiskey had you had by that time?"
"Oh, I didn't drink any whiskey. Just beer and some vodka on the plane."

Hmm....funny because in multiple pictures I am seen with a tall glass of a dark substance which I can only assume is bourbon and coke or whiskey and coke. This has since been validated by PK. Thanks......dick.

So let it be known that from this day forth during the month of December in the year of our Santa Jesus 2010, Poon shalln't consume the following until the fortnight is nigh upon us. I don't know what the fuck a fortnight is, so let's just say until January 1st, 2011.

1. No red meat
2. No bourbon
3. No whiskey

Bring on the meth bitches.

Declaration of IndePOONdence

Monday, November 8, 2010

Clap, Clap, Clap...

No I am not referring to the respective diseases staffers Poon, PK, and Hairy Carray picked-up on a recent staff road trip (read "bender") to Ann Arbor, where, incidentally, the woman are fat and the football weak, but they make up for it by having the worst cocktail in the world!*** Instead, I am simply listing what follows the "overrated" chant. And when it comes to overrated in sports for the year 2010, I can think of no more deserving team than the Dallas Cowboys.

Now I have cheered for some bad teams during my lifetime - including some REALLY bad Cleveland Indians squads - but never has a team with so many advantages been this fricking lousy. Homer Simpson may have been referring to the 2010 Cowboys when he uttered his famous phrase "the suckiest bunch of sucks that ever sucked." Of course, he may have been asked to critique the authors of the witty prose posted on this website. On second thought, that's pretty unlikely because I, not unlike the rest of our crack staff, like to rock out with my caulk out.

OK - back to the Cowboys...

Fabulous new stadium? Check. High-priced roster? Check. Fanatical fan-base? Yep. Tradition? As good as any in the National Football League.

Results? Results? Anyone...anyone...results?

One win!?!? That's all they have is one God damn win.

America's Team, my ass. Overrated is more like it.

My name is Buckeye Savant. I love hot Indian - you know "dot" Indian - women, an occasional Washington Apple shot, the Cleveland Indians...and I am out!

***Ann Arbor Highball, the worst cocktail EVER = 2 parts Cutty Sark + 2 parts Tab Cola.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Elvis was a Bad Ass

Having recently parlayed my "Paul Stanley" hairy chest, prescription sunglasses, and $100 jumpsuit and wig into my own personal spin on The King of Rock-N-Roll, I feel somewhat compelled to blog about Elvis. I mean this dude was the definition of bad ass...when you can eat peanut butter and banana sandwiches, burgers, and BBQ pizza and balloon-up to nearly three bills - and still get super-model p*ssy, you really are The King. Ann Margaret? Tapped it! Natalie Wood? Knocked the bottom out of it!

Elvis could wear whatever the f*ck he wanted too. If I could pull wool like that wearing an open chest bedazzled white jumpsuit, I'd probably never wear anything else. (Editorial note: remove the word "probably").

And what about the Memphis Mafia? Keeping your cronies close is always a good idea (note to Poon: remember the little people on your way to the top). Elvis even had a dude who carried a cigar box with everything he might need at a given moment in time (thin cigars, Viseine drops, gum, hard candy, chocolate, uppers, downers etc.). Although pure speculation, I am pretty sure the d & d staff cigar box would contain the following: rodent nail clippers, gum, roofies, industrial size bottle of knock-off cologne ('cause you never know when a gas station will run out), ball gag, beads manufactured for an as-yet unknown know - just the basics.

To further illustrate how bad ass he was, let's recall his trip to Nixon's White House to visit the president in order to discuss anti-drug legislation...while he was stoned to the Bejesus Belt. Balls of steel on that King of Rock-N-Roll, I tell ya.' Nixon even gave him a stinkin' badge - despite the fact that he really didn't need it.

Aside from the whole impacted bowel heart attack on the toilet thing, I think I'd walk a mile in The King's shoes.

Thank you...thank you very much!

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Tales From the Road

As I sit along with a noose around my neck in a sketchy hotel room in Longview, I have plenty of time to ponder the ways of the world.....while taking a massive hot wing based double tapered shit. Although I am not the daintiest of mammals, I do have a few things that I require from hotels that I am not really feeling here.

As a Hilton Gold Club member, I do demand a certain degree of acknowledgement from the green card-less staff. Don't ask me if I want a bottle of water each day in my room....of fucking course I do! When I come into room 119 (ladies) at 2:15 am after trolling through the local Applebee's until their midnight shutdown time shortly followed by a trip to the local Jaguars to ensure that some female touches my penis before I go back to the hotel and fire off in the shower (don't act like you don't do it); I want to be able to quench my cotton mouth at 4am with a delicious bottle of Ozarka water. Shit. It's not 3rd grade math people!

Here are a few other small requirements I have while traveling:

1. No outside entry. This lovely place has outside only entry into the rooms. It's not that I HAVE to have a lobby so I can hit on the midnight clerk, I just know of too many horror movies that start with outside entry shady hotels.......then again I know of quite a few fuck films that start with that also......retract statement.

2. Complimentary happy hour. Hampton is VERY good about this. When staying at a Hampton, I strongly recommend testing the happy hour waters. 530-730 all you can drink. If you get lucky they will also have hard liquor. It's a good way to either start your night or power drink and pass out with your dick between the gonorrhea infested mattresses. Your call.

3. Complimentary breakfast. And I'm not talking about that "continental" shit. If I wanted to stare at old people and eat Frosted Flakes, I would take my morning cereal into a funeral. I want something good like sausage and fake eggs. If you want to throw in an omelet here and there, I'm down for that too.

4. Free parking. Yes, there are places that still charge. I was taken by that not too long ago in San Antonio. Luckily to recoup my losses, I stashed 13 Mexicans in my trunk and sold them outside of Home Depot. That reminds me....I think I only have sales receipts for 11. Note to self - check trunk next week.

5. Free WiFi. As I find more examples of illegally downloaded music being monitored along with the embarrassment of my involvement at and, I feel that I should borrow someone else's IP address.

6. Yes, they are both NSFW so please do not search for those websites at the work PC.

7. Microwave not built into a cavity in the wall. Hampton in Longview - Fail.

In closing, I will share just a few tips that I have learned over the years.
- Use your own razor.
- Don't trust the shampoo supplied by the hotel.
- Take your own toilet paper. Your fingernails will thank you.

I love you and miss you,


Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Getting off the Schneid

Although fat, drunk, and stupid is no way to get through college, it does just fine in terms of moth-balling a blog for more than a year.

There was certain addictive comfort in the realization that we could sit around unkempt in our bathrobes, eating Cheetos, and temporarily staining our genitals with a deep orange (and tasty) coating, but when one of our own referred to us as gentlemen, we knew it was time to break the silence. No more "silent but deadly" from our camp. More like "loud and putrid." Buckle-up gentle readers because we are back and better than ever.

OK - that was ambitious.

We're back...until the next bulk Cheetos purchase - when we promise to pay for 13 bags in the 10 Items or Fewer line.

Boom - FACIAL!!!

My name is Buckeye Savant. I'm a Libra, my favorite color is scarlet, I like walks in the rain, and I am OUT.

Saturday, October 16, 2010

Put The Gun Down

Stop it. Not kidding. Stop it. It's not over.
I can't tell you how many calls I've had tonight from my d-bag friends saying that the season is over. Are you serious? Have you not realized yet that college football is the most exciting sport in this God forsaken world for a reason? Did you spend the entire 2007 season tattooing "jackpot!" on your taint?

The thing that we all must realize is that nothing fucking matters right now. This is a long season and I know that we have some bullshit teams that are gong to run the board but we have to stay eagerly waiting for the next upset to happen. It. Will. Happen.

Is it going to be another number 1? Maybe not, but a top 5 I guarantee. Mark it. That is the beauty of college football and the reason that we stay glued to the tv each week even through games we could personally give two shits about. For the upsets.

Am I sad? Abso-fucking-lutely you soulless Nazi Hitler. But stay strong and the promised land will arrive sooner than you think.

Also on a related note, I despise Boise State. I would rather jerk off Lenny Kravitz with my asshole than watch you in another bowl game? Take your Statue of Liberty play and shove it up your big blue ass!

Also do yourself a favor and read this.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Waimea St,Frisco,United States

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Still Going.......

Good morrow taint smashers. Wonder if I have been keeping to my promise of the 5k? First, do you not have anything better to do than think about this? Tool. Second yes I am. Still going strong. And by strong I mean this blows more than Lloyd Carr at a Shriners Convention. Don't ask how I know. Just don't.

Lost a little weight and feeling better about myself but still far from where I wanted to be. We are a week away and I really am a bit disappointed where I am. Either way it will be good experience for the next one. I plan on doing this regularly. Kind of fun really.

Since you mother lickers have had to read the most boring crap ever during this, I have included the highlights from the ESPYs tonight. January Jones. You're f-ing welcome.

Poon Draper

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Frisco, TX

Wednesday, June 23, 2010


Well that's enough about my penis. Back to running. I am still going strong running almost daily. Endurance is building and starting to even lose a little weight. I'm really looking forward to this and getting kind of nervous honestly. At first my goal was to just finish the 5k but I'm actually going to run the whole way and hopefully get a decent time.

As you can see, I'm in Amarillo for work. Sitting in the airport killing time since there was an "operational issue" with our plane. While I was going through security and in the midst of the voluntary cavity search, I saw one of our troops walking off of his plane. He turned the corner towards the gate exit when he dropped his bag and sprinted towards the waiting area just outside of the gate crying his eyes out. I then heard a loud scream and saw his wife running towards him with open arms. She leapt into his arms and they both remained there hugging and crying while I continued onto my gate. I had the same feeling I do during the national anthem. Lump in my throat holding back tears.

Although this is the first time I have seen this, it happens everyday and it doesn't happen more than we would like to think. With that said, my donations along with my contribution will go to some sort of fallen soldier fund. If you know one that you would recommend/support let me now.

Private Poon

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Rosenwald Dr,Atimarillo,United States

Monday, June 14, 2010

Bad News

Hey there little one. Want to hear a story? Well tough shit you're going to hear it anyways. I have bad news for everyone. I'm fatter than I thought. 261. Must have read the scale wrong Friday. Either way had a good workout. 2.71 miles on the machine in 31 minutes. If I was just guessing I'm going to finish this 5k in a little less than 1.6 hours. I mean Jesus.

Going to get back to actual running tomorrow as I really think that is going to be better for me overall. Getting pretty excited for this thing. I have a couple of people on board for the donations so thank you all.

Enough with the bullshit. Let's talk football. So as of tonight it looks like the Big12 will become the Big10 and the Big10 will become the Big12 while the Pac10 continues to be the cock stain in my tightie-whities. All of this fuss for nothing. I'm kind of disappointed honestly. When all of the dust settles we will have a spare Big12 network that will do nothing but prevent us from getting closer to a playoff. Fuck off you burnt orange dicks. You just keep on beating everyone in the conference (sans Oklahoma every other year) and coast through your easy out of conference schedule to mediocre your way to a BCS game. I pray to Betty White that tOSU whips the orangutan feces off your faces.

Cordially yours,

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Waimea St,Frisco,United States

Friday, June 11, 2010

Day 2

Day 2
Weight 252
Cup Size B+

Today was day 2 of the Couch to 5k challenge for me. After I posted last night I received support from probably the only two people that read this so thank you both. I was thinking about settling the language down a bit and spreading this around so it may happen early next week. Until then, I will continue on here.

First of all, I am changing the name. Couch to 5k is an iPhone app that I downloaded and didn't use since it is a 9 week training curriculum and i have 6 weeks before the big day. From now on, this will be called the "Fat to 5k". I was thinking of "Titty Buster" or "Scrote Buster" but they both were taken by Vivid Video.

For reference, the elliptical machine is much easier than actually running. After my mediocre start to this last night of two miles that was made mostly up of walking more than running, the machines at the gym gave me a good break while still working up a sweat. Ok, I was on the 6 incline but.......and I had the generic workout going but i assur..........AND THE OLD LADY NEXT TO ME WAS CALLING ME A PUSSY! OK WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO? HIT HER IN THE TWAT?

Either way, glad I forced myself to go. Actually passed on happy hour with a few people to go to the gym which (not sure if you have met me) is hard for me to do. I have a few tests ahead of me this weekend which consists of meeting up with PK for a few and a Luau party tomorrow night where I am supposed to meet a friend's friend that "has a new set of honkers" as so gracefully said by her. I'll tell you one thing that the Mesquite area spit out.....sophistication.

I actually plan on writing here daily unless I move to the new blog.

Also, I question the credibility of this blog. I was going to put in a few labels for this post (which as you can see are quite sophisticated if I may say so myself) and when I typed in "poo" it brought up "poo clown suit". What. The. Hell. Is it odd that I want to read that post now? And also that I may be a bit aroused?


Thursday, June 10, 2010

Couch to 5k

Since apparently we aren't using this space for anything else, I am going to take you through my trek to complete a personal goal of mine. Running a 5k.
So it may not be a marathon but for my fat drinking ass, it's a start so don't you look down your nose at me. Dick.

What started this? Glad you asked. I recently went through a breakup with Ms. Poon that I took (and still taking) harder than I let on. I have been very lucky that I have some of the best people in my life that I could hope for. The last time I had a breakup I decided to drink through it and hope it went away. Well I did and that whore ended up having a kid with my ex best friend. Funny....she always wanted me to finish in hole #2. Point Poon.....holding serve.

Anyways this time I wanted to do something with my life so I decided to get my shit together. Eating decent, working out and maybe doing a little good for humanity while I'm at it. That's where the 5k comes in.

The 5k I am running in 6 weeks will donate it's proceeds to a children's charity. On top of that have made the effort to make those fuckers that laugh at me for doing this pay by betting me that I will not finish. So far I have two $20 bets. I would love nothing more than to drink this away, however, I am going to donate the money I raise from you all to charity. More than likely a children's charity of some sort.

I want to keep this blog up to date on my progress and the outcome. Yes I will throw some funny in here so it's not a blog that reads like My Sister's Keeper. Although it may have some children in it at some point. Like you don't think about it.

So far the training began tonight with running(ish) a mile and walking a mile. Legs are a little shaky but holding strong. Need to work on lung capacity for sure.

Stay tuned and if you want to donate leave a comment or email me.



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Waimea St,Frisco,United States

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Most Misquoted Movie Lines

To my humble minions. We aren't back by any means but we are smugly attempting to see if this works.

What started this.
Sitting alone at the hotel bar you hear many things.
"is that your real penis?"
"can I borrow some coke?"
"is that little girl yours? Can I borrow her for a bit?"

My big pet peeve I just realized is people stating their "favorite" line from a movie and grossly misquoting it. Example for tonight. "don't put baby in the corner."


Submit your most misquoted movie lines in the comments. Winner will get a quick slap in the face before being donkey punched. You're welcome fuckers.