http://www.writetheend.ca/en/gallery/A/7666/

What is this all about? Well, we can view the commercial!

And guess who wrote an ending. That’s right, I did!  I need your votes to help me win maybe! $25,000 and 1% of this chips sales is a lot of cornhole, my friends.

Once again, go here and vote, and if you do, I will love you forever and maybe send you some Doritos (if I win).

I found some AWESOME youtube video. While I normally would never post a youtube video I didn’t make myself, or use in reference to a long winded post I can’t be arsed to write any more, I’m posting one today.

If ANYBODY was nerdy enough to enjoy the Star Trek Voyager series, HAHAHAHAHA! OMG OMG this is the FUNNIEST fucking parody I’ve ever seen in my life! Even if it’s all in Chinese with subtitles. Or Russian. Whatever I can’t tell. Just enjoy the vid.

Thanks Quagmire. Nice bicep.

Anyways, it just so happened the other night a girl added herself to my MSN. Now, I know what your thinking. Your thinking, ‘Girls want to talk to Spaz???’ And you’re right, I’m surprised as you are.  But there it was, her name was Catharine, and apparently, she was an automated PORNO bot. Not the good kind of porno bot I hear about on  Howard Stern, the one that’s anatomically correct and never says a word (oh bliss), but I think she was trying to sell me porno.   Anyways, I saved the transcripts. Her slutty ass hyperlinks are omitted. You can find them for yourselves, pervs.

Mike says:

Hi. Who are you?

Catherine says:

hi

hi how are you today?

Mike says:

good, do i know you?

Catherine says:

my name is  kaylee I’m doing great today I’m 21 yrs old how old are you?

(note: porno people aren’t noted for their big ‘brains’.  Catherine, or should I say, kaylee)

Mike says:

you are a bot aren’t you

Catherine says:

listen hun, I am just about to start my webcam show with jen, come chat me there in my chat room? We can cyber, I will get naked if u do..lol!

Mike says:

well i was thinking, instead of paying you to get naked, how about I pay you to keep your clothes on?

maybe do some secretarial work for me

I need some stuff filed

Catherine says:

I can show u how to watch free if u promise not to tell anyone else how to do it???PLEASE

Mike says:

How many times have you had Chlamydia? That’s important.

Catherine says:

well since its free the law that u gotta be 18 (nudity involved), u have to sign up with a credit card for age verification! BUT .. Once you are inside, just clikc on “Webcams” let me know what name you use to sign in with so I know it is you babe! (pervy link deleted) fill out the bottom of the page then fill out the next page as well and u can see me live for free!

Mike says:

Do you houseclean?

if i was to give you some money

you know

would you clean my house?

Catherine says:

Please dont mention anything about that in the chatroom once u get in ok?

Mike says:

So you DO clean house!

Make sure there’s no dust on top of the fridge or I might beat you

haha!

just kidding about the beating

but really

no dust

Catherine says:

OH SHIT.. k I am late to start my show, I gotta get off msn…I will see ya inside my chatroom babe.. remember not to mention that I am upgrading u for free… You can use your msn name to sign in so i know it is you..

Mike says:

Yea I don’t do fecal stuff

Catherine says:

AUTO-RESPONSE: hey just in the middle of my free webcam show if you want to watch click the link (link deleted, get your own porn pervs).

Yes, they are still there.  There hasn’t been any raging man like feminists that have been so angered by my insensitive Nazi like blog comments they came and ripped it off in one massive bite from a disgusting unwashed mouth with beard stubble.

Shit, disgusting man like unwashed lesbian women with beards.  Add the words ‘morbid’ and ‘obese’ and I think I just gave myself a boner. Which I also would not be able to feel.

You see, it’s October in Canada and my furnace decided not to start up this season.

For all of you south of the 49th, that doesn’t seem like a big deal. Except that my house is like 9 degrees and dropping, which is giving me a case of blue balls, blue hands, and blue everything else.

Which probably means as soon as I get heat again, my balls will drop off from whatever disease is afflicting them.  Fucking balls.  You women think it’s horrible to bleed for 5 days a month, well, try wearing your gonads on the outside of your body.

Women, seriously, try it. Get a couple of kiwi fruits and a hot dog and glue it onto your hoo haw and see how it feels (*If you’re black, you’ll need two large sized granny smith apples and a foot long sausage).

Can’t find a comfortable place for it to rest ladies? Let me let you in on a little secret. THERE IS NO COMFORTABLE PLACE.  It’s like god really did make man genitals as an after thought. He probably got drunk and gave the wiener and peas to his retarded angel Effrum who picked the location with a demented game of “pin the nards on the man animal”.

And while you’re trying to find a place to put your new prosthetic, you WILL be touching yourself a lot. And in public. And now you know why.  So ease up, ok?

On the subject of easing up, balls are VERY sensitive. Your gonads are deep within your body, protected by organs, muscle, skin, and a bit of fat. Sometimes, by a lot of at.  If your gonads were dangling out of your body you’d understand how just a tiny little slap can have BIG pain repercussions.

Jumping off something without being prepared?  Ever seen those devices on a corporate desk, the little swingset with the balls hanging from it?  And when you lift one ball it hits the others and causes a chain reaction? Yea, that’s what happens with ours and it HURTS.

Shit, I’ve seemed to get some feeling back into my testes. They hurt again. Mother fucker.

I don’t think anything is going to happen here until I can get it fixed.

Sorry.

You’ll have to go elsewhere for your innapropriate politically incorrect poo humor for the time being. Might I suggest midgetmanofsteel.blogspot.com. He’s almost as good as me.

Still, the smell hung heavy and I used some febreze air effects odour eliminator spray with less than satisfying results. So poor did this product perform, I felt compelled to write the company.  Below is the email I sent:

To whom it may concern:

I’m writing to you today in regards to the efficacy of your Febreze Air Effects product.

You see, one of my friends was at my home yesterday helping me do some drywall work. This particular friend is in excess of 6’4″ tall and weighs in somewhere around 350 lbs.

The issue is that his normally overactive gut was compounded that day by a double cheeseburger with bacon, fries with extra gravy and an extra large milkshake. He’s not supposed to eat fast food and the effects were disastrous.

He spent the better part of two hours flatulating in my little bungalow before decimating my toilet for a period exceeding twenty-five minutes.

The results were horrid. I could not get the smell out of my house, despite turning the bathroom fan on and opening all the windows.  The smell was heavy and pungent and would not go anywhere.

It was then I saw a commercial on T.V. advertising your Febreze air effects, and how your product claimed to eliminate odours from the air, not just mask them over.

I quickly went to the store and purchased a can of your febreze air effects linen and sky odour eliminator.

I probably used at least half the can and the resulting smell was linen and sky poo.

I’m very disappointed that your product did not work as claimed, and feel perhaps you should add a disclaimer to your advertising before someone launches a lawsuit.

Respectfully yours,

Mike

Rest assured I will post any future correspondance with the company.

Now that I’m thirty-one I just want to retire already. My pension plan will let me do this sometime in the year 2042.  I think I can retire in 2037 with good behavior, or some shit like that.  Yay, I’m a bitter bastard with thirty years to stew!

Anyways, one night at around two a.m. my buddies wife sent him and I out for McDonalds ice cream.

Why at two a.m?  I don’t know. When I was young I didn’t sleep, didn’t want to sleep, wouldn’t sleep if I didn’t have to. It’s a bit of a different story now.

Also, why McDonalds ice cream when they had ice cream in the freezer? I have no idea. You see, several months earlier he had gotten her pregnant for some idiotic reason.  Hey, I don’t think they begrudge the kid. She’s a lovely little girl. It’s just that now they both have good paying jobs. It was a bit different back then. I mean, had they waited, she wouldn’t have had to breast feed the kid until she was seven. Or my buddy until he was twenty-nine.

Perhaps I’ve said too much.

Anyways, because myself and my buddy were night owls, she would send us out to fill her weird cravings at all hours.  And by weird cravings, I mean weird cravings.  She would want things like:

• KFC with Crisco (for dipping sauce)
• Stuffed crust pizza minus the pizza
• Mayonnaise
• Deep fried pickles (we had to get creative with that one)
• Garbanzo beans wrapped in bacon wrapped in lettuce wrapped in ham wrapped in beef wrapped in a soft taco shell dipped in chocolate (Don’t say we never do anything for you)
• A virginal Chinese woman floating in plumb sauce wrapped in rice paper and holding deep fried duck in her mouth.

Um, perhaps I’ve said to much again.

That night we took my truck, as between our two crap boxes we had deemed mine most likely to start.

I had an air freshener hung around the rear view mirror in the shape of two billiard eight balls.

Well, it was an air freshener when I bought it. Now it just took the fragrance of my truck, which was a mixture of tobacco smoke and fart.

My friend was fascinated with these things.  Well, maybe not so much fascinated with my fart balls. It was more like he was infatuated with pissing me off.

He took his finger and flicked one of the eight balls. It ricochet off my windshield and twisted up. As soon as it untwisted itself he did it again. And again. And again.

I asked him to stop it.

He did it again.

I asked him to stop it again.

He did it more.

By this time we were at the drive through window waiting for the ice cream. He wouldn’t stop what he was doing. By this time I was mad as hell and I screamed at the top of my lungs:

STOP FLICKING MY BALLS!

I didn’t see a very surprised McDonalds girl holding out an ice cream in my general direction.

My buddy leaned over to me and said in a not so quiet voice, “Hey Spaz! You should ask her out now!”.

Score one for you my friend, score one for you.

For you Americans, you can liken Tim Hortons to your Starbucks.  Except that Tim Hortons is WAY more popular up here than even Starbucks is there.  We probably have a Tim Hortons for every 5,000 people up here. No shit.

And in my city of whitey Ontario, there’s so many Tim Hortons that there’s two places where there are Timmies right across the street from each other.

I don’t know what Timmies puts in their coffee.  I have no idea, but whatever it is, it has us retards paying $1.45 for what is essentially a dirty cup of water.

Now, there’s something about Timmies. Something very interesting.  It generally isn’t the doctors and lawyers and the rich mafia types that frequent there. No, it’s the lowest common denominator that we have here in Canada. This lowest common denominator both frequents and works there.

That lowest common denominator is white trash.

Yes, I have been sucked into this white trash infested coffee joint, almost daily. I have to get my fix. But that doesn’t have to mean I like it.

There is two problems with the Tim Hortons employees.  Well, it’s really one problem. You see, it is a minimum wage job and they pick among the lowest of the low, which means you get some seriously idiotic employees.

It’s not the students so much. They work there to make some extra cash before moving onto bigger and better things. No, it’s the lifers that are the serious idiots.

And it’s not like Tim Hortons doesn’t know they hire idiots. They know they do, and they don’t care. As a matter of fact, they understand the dynamic so well that the uniforms include stretch pants. They know that the employees don’t just throw out the day olds – no, they recycle them into poo.  And fat.

Now look. I have nothing (much) against the morbidly obese, I just don’t want them handling my food.  And when I pull up to the drive through window and she’s so fat that her rolls are pushing out through her skin tight size 3XL winter jacket, I have a problem. I don’t care if the coffee is too hot to handle, do NOT touch the lid. That’s where I drink the coffee from, and you look like you haven’t washed in years.

How exactly retarded to you have to be to ask me if I want a tray for my three coffees?  No you fucking tard, I’ll put two of them in my cup holders and hoop the third.  Idiot.

Now listen you retarded Tim Hortons Employee.  Look at the drive through before you take the order. Why? Because the car ahead of me hasn’t pulled up all the way and you’re asking for my order. Don’t ask for my order and then tell ME to wait until I’m in front of the speaker because you can’t hear me.  Well no DUH you can’t hear me you fat piece of shit!

Now, I know it’s tough making coffee. Real tough, like brain surgery tough.  When people order portions of milk and sugar, they do it in multiples of one.  Like a double double. Two milks, two sugars.  Or maybe I’ll order two milks, and one sugar. Then you put two portions of milk, one portion of sugar. So when I ask for a half milk, don’t fill the fucking cup halfway with milk you TARD!  A half milk is a half portion of milk. Who the HELL does a half and half on coffee and milk? I guess YOU, idiot!

The retardation doesn’t end there.  See what happens when you want a white bun with your chilli?

• Hortons Tard: What bread with your chili, sir?
• Me: A white bun.
• Me: No, not a brown bun. A white bun.
• Me: Put the bagel back, I wanted a white bun.
• Me: A scone isn’t a white bun.
• Me: DO YOU REALLY THINK I WANT TO DIP A HONEY CRULLER IN MY CHILI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GIVE ME A WHITE BUN!

Of course, there’s the entitled drive through fuck tard. You know the one that orders the entire menu, getting the poor fattie on the other end of the speaker to describe each menu item – twice?  All I want is a fucking coffee but fattie white trash is too lazy to heave her bulk out of her ’87 Topaz and study the menu inside where she won’t be inconveniencing anybody. No, because the drive through stops for her.

But, aside from retards, fatties and the rest of the unwashed masses, Tim Hortons makes a great cup of coffee.  And I guess it must be worth it, because I won’t stop going there.

Some people don’t like meat.  They don’t enjoy it, they don’t want to eat it. Hey, who am I to judge?  I’ve had all vegetarian meals before.  I’ve had all meat meals before. I’ve even killed, gutted, and cooked my own animals.  When you’re in the woods, you eat what the woods has to offer.

I met a new breed of people recently.  Sure, I knew they existed.  I mean, I thought if you were one of them you went and joined up with all the rest of the PETArds.  But I was wrong. Very wrong. This group of people are so angry, so unsatisfied with their lives, that not only do they not understand humour or satire, but they feel the need to threaten people with their lives simply for the food they eat.  This group is known as the….

ANGRY VEGGIES!

Yes, these people exist, and there were some very interesting comments left on my last post, Petardia.  One man in particular, was very interesting. He was the first angry veggie to comment.  Well, I don’t know if he’s a man.  It’s kind of hard with a name Dacho. Maybe it’s a girl. Or maybe it’s an it.  Or maybe it’s a boy with a really really small wiggly, which is why it feels compelled to get angry over a little humorous satire.

In Patardia, I was making fun of the the retardation the PETArds call sea kittens, in which if we rename fish to sea kittens, nobody will want to eat fish any more.  They’d prefer people to starve than eating fish, I’m guessing.  The thing named Dacho took exception to that post.  He/she/it took something not serious seriously, and made some interesting comments. For example, on evolution, Dacho says:

-You didn’t spend a single second of “climbing your way up”, you’re eating meat from an animal that’s been raised and slaughtered for you, that’s what you did.

So apparently evolution started sometime in late 1977 huh?  Interesting.

Some other tidbits of brilliance from Dacho:

……we might as well eat fetuses and little babies. Nothing like a nice bloody piece of meat, right?

I’m wondering, just because I like cow, pig, chicken, and sometimes cat (we have a GREAT Chinese food restaurant here in town), you assume I’m into cannibalism too?  Because cooked fetus is just like a plate full of delicious prime rib.  Us carnivores haunt proms looking for dumpster babies.  You tard.

Of course, since Dacho took my satire so seriously, he left serious comments. Not hypocritical in any ways. For example, he said this:

-I suppose you mean vegetable farms. No, they’re not, but let’s take a soy farms example. EIGHTY PERCENT of soy made on farms is used for FEEDING ANIMALS ON FARMS.

And he followed it up with this tibit of genius:

OK now I’m really curious. People would usually delete my comment and pretend it was never there, and continue with their silliness. And I would really like it to be something with trustable sources, not just “doctors say yadda yadda” (like my 80% soy thing, lol).

So Dacho.  You can leave bullshit made up statistics, TELL me they were bullshit statistics, and insist that I come up with verified sources? Sounds like the only one who’s being silly here is you, my friend.

According to the great Dacho, my parents:

I really don’t see what your problem with vegetarians might be, have your parents been hitting you with a vegetarian when you were a kid or what? Anyway, set your facts straight if you wanna spit on something.

I’m guessing that it was actually my parents who had a problem with vegetarians, because they used them to beat me.  And I always thought that dad used his belt. I guess he really hated veggies if he used one as a belt!  And Dacho, why do I have to get my facts straight when you admit you don’t?

As I was making fun of the PETArds and their sea kittens, apparently I also mentioned all the things that I think vegetarians are:

I just love the stereotypes: “oooh, a vegetarian, does that mean you’re gay? or punk? or goth? oooh, so you’re one of those that throw molotovs on MCD! oooh, a vegetarian

Where did I say that in my last post? Nope, I don’t think that about vegetarians at all.  Maybe just you Dacho, maybe just you

While Dacho was an angry veggie, the next commenter, known as Vegan, was a VIOLENT veggie. Observe.