The Mind of Spaz

The ever lovely Ettarose organized a roast for fellow humor bloggers to be posted the very first of May.  I did the fabulous Kirsten of the Soccer Mom Files, and the poor unfortunate fellow roasting me is the talented Renal Failure.

So, let’s see how this guy rips me from poo to fat chick.

Enjoy.

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Here he is! Spaz, The man of the hour, which is fifty-five minutes
more than he takes to write one of his posts.

But who is the Spaz that apparently has a Mind which we should be made
aware of? Well, that’s why Cthulu created “About” pages. His picture
shows a man who is obviously proud of his watch, or his beefy arm, or
calling people out at home plate.

He’s a Canadian in Ontario so odds are he’s a Maple Leafs fan, which
would explain his Wendel Clark-like goatee. You might ask yourself why
someone would kept a goatee in memory of someone who hadn’t played for
the Leafs since 1996 but then again irrelevancy is a way of life for
Maple Leafs fans (they’re still mad about the ‘93 Conference Finals
against Gretzky’s LA Kings).

But enough about the man who looks like the brother of Egon Spengler
who ate paint chips instead of learning how to bust ghosts, let’s look
at his blog, which bills itself as “Social Commentary with a Side of
Flatulence.”  Oh good, I was sick of of all these private commentary
sites that spring up like so many Tim Horton’s. And I’m glad that the
flatulence is on the side, because farts are garnish.

So… Spaz likes to talk about poop. A lot. Christ, Robert Mapplethorpe
wasn’t even this interested in poop. Is Spaz short for Spastic Colon?

But don’t think that Mind of Spaz is just one long brochure for
irritable bowel syndrome. It’s also the largest repository for fat
chick pictures this side of the folder holding all the Nutri-System
“Before” pictures.   Baby got back?  No baby got front, sides, and
everything in between.

Most of these pictures end up as part of fake motivational posters,
perhaps for the purpose of your office co-workers including them in a
hilarious email to be passed around your office until Human Resources
puts a stop to it.  So next time HR forces you to sit through a
tedious meeting regarding proper use of office email and Internet
usage, you can probably thank Spaz for that.

But Mind of Spaz wasn’t Spaz’s first blog. His first was called
Spazoid’s Space, which was just like Mind of Spaz except with a
Blogger template. And the last two months of material were just
cross-posts from his water-filtration blog, which is actually funny.
Reverse osmosis system? Ultraviolet disinfection device? The jokes
write themselves, which leaves Spaz a lot more time to scour Google
images for the morbidly obese.

Water filtration, poop and fat girls… I don’t know what Spaz is into
when it comes to bedroom activities, but I’m thinking it involves a
lot of Indian food, a Brita filter, and a tub of Crisco.  Just don’t
forget the plastic tarp, unless you really enjoy constantly steam
cleaning your carpets.

Anyway the side of flatulence hadn’t shown up yet at Spazoid’s Space,
though the poop was always there. Instead he was “hurdling towards
insanity.” Obviously the path to madness involves a 11o-meter Olympic
event.  Not quite as impressive as the other guy “HURTLING” toward
insanity, and obviously not as quick either.

But Spaz gives back to the HumorBloggers.com community, always eager
to help out. He’s an author on the community blog.  He’s a fixture in
the forums and the chat room, much like how AIDS was a fixture in the
musical Rent.  I recall him once asking the forum if he needed a
tetanus shot after stepping on a nail while renovating his basement,
because as we all know the best medical advice comes from an internet
message board full of people whose expertise is jokes about dicks,
farts, and Vince the ShamWow guy. SlapChop your lockjaw away!

So let us direct a round of applause for Spaz, but not the
slow-building kind that comes at on the tail end of a big emotional
speech at the end of an 80’s movie. That’s for special occasions.
But let’s at least applaud him for taking the slings and arrows of a
notorious liar and fabricator with the grace and dignity befitting a
noble water management technician with a colon that could bench press
a zamboni.

**************************************************

That. Was. AWESOME!

‘Nuff Said

shameless promotion blogger, boobs, fat, mind of spaz, poo, renal failure, roast

Not too long ago, I was talking to my mechanic as he worked on my truck. The topic of boobs naturally came up, as is want when two humans with penis’s are encouraged by the close proximity of power tools.

We discovered that we had different tastes in titties. He like big fat sloppy boobs. It didn’t matter if they were shapely or perky or hanging where they should be, as long as he could stick his face in there and motorboat to his hearts delight. Even if he was motorboating at knee level, as I so pointed out.

Personally, there’s nothing wrong with big boobs but I like nice, perky titties. The kind that defy gravity. If I could have the perfect boob, it would be a boob that was so perky that wearing a bra was only a formality.

Now, it occurs to me that women would have two issues with their boobs.

1. As we have become a society of slutty skanks, women change partners more often than they change their tampons
2. Boobs become deflated and pancake like as they age

Both situation do not bode well on making a good boob impression. After all, you may be hooking up with a man who likes big sloppy boobs followed by a man who has good taste in titties (like me) and back to another man who likes motorboating chest manatee’s.  And of course, floppy choppy pancakes as you get older.

So what is a girl to do?

I’ll tell you what a girl is to do! She’s to order my revolutionary product called the Titflator(TM)!

The product is very simple.  Empty sacs are inserted into the boob.  Tubes from those sacks go down to a reservoir in her belly.  Attached to the reservoir is a pump activated by her kegel muscles.  In her belly button is a discrete three way valve for fill, drain and off.

When the young (or old) lady wants to pump up her boobs, she simply has to turn the belly button valve to fill, drink some water, and then activate her kegel muscles in her very favorite way.  To deflate, simply turn the belly button valve to drain.  Simple, precise and immediate bigger or smaller boobs, right before your eyes!  See this simple diagram of how the product works:

But don’t just take my word for it.  Just see what these satisfied customers have to say!

Before I got titflator(TM) I was so embarrassed by my pancake boobies.  Now, I can inflate them to any perky size I want!  All I have to do is turn my belly button valve to fill, drink a certain amount of water, and go for a bike ride on a cobble stone road! Nothing could be easier and more pleasurable! Thanks Titflator(TM)!

-Molly S.

My boyfriend would never pay attention to my little mosquito bite titties.  So one day I had Titflator(TM) installed. I drank some water, and turned the valve to fill before we had sex.  My boobs got bigger with every thrust!  Now he brags to his buddies that he’s so good in bed he made my boobs grow!  Well at least one of those is true.  Thanks Titflator(TM), you’re the greatest!

-Cheryl W.

I loved your product. Until the valve got stuck that is.  What the heck!  I’ve got penis flying at me from every direction and I don’t think my boobs can get any bigger!  I’m afraid they’re going to burst – for the love of god, how do you unstick the valve?  I can’t see my feet anymore!  Please, send out a technician or something….

-Pamela A.

So what are you ladies waiting for!  Order the Titflator(TM) today and you won’t regret it!

politically incorrect, talking out of my ass boobs, breasts, inflation devices, sweet sweet woman chest, titties

I know something about Pam Anderson. I’m not supposed to say anything, but you know me. I’m a huge blabbermouth!

It seems that Mz. Anderson is getting a little miffed about being overshadowed by this newest generation of bombshells – Jessica Simpson, Scarlett Johansson, Jessica Alba and the like.

It’s well known that Pam is an attention whore, and theres only one way she knows how to get it. By getting bigger and bigger boobs.

This case is no exception. She’s going for the BIGGEST boobs that man has ever seen.

How do I know? Because as a municipal representative, I was involved in the construction project.

You heard me right. CONSTRUCTION. We were successful bidders to provide the necessary land for the project. Norwich won the other boob.

Don’t believe me? I took pictures.

Here’s a view from the outside, during construction:

Our biggest problem was keeping the seaguls from smacking into the side of the boob.

Some of the technical aspects proved especially difficult:

Here, you can see our successful test of the nipples response to cold stimuli

I couldn’t believe I was actually standing INSIDE the boob!

I'm in awe, and I HAVE to get a picture of this shit!

The boobs are scheduled for release sometime in the spring, upon successful grafting of Pam to her new boobs.

Please, don’t’ spread this around – Mum’s the word until the official release!

Thanks.

Parody, social commentary boobs, breast construction, huge knockers, Pam Anderson

Queers. Fags. Homosexual. Bum Pirates. Ass blasters. Knob polishers. Chode suckers. Richard Simmons. There are many words for doods who like doing other doods, but the fact of the matter is, I just don’t get it. How can a man like another man, with shit like this out there?

How does shit like this not keep men straight?

Guys, you’ve thought about it. Come on, admit it. The only way you can know if you’re actually straight is by thinking about playing with a rod that isn’t your own. You’ve ALL thought about it once. If the thought of a knob passing your lips makes you lose your lunch, you’re not gay. If you think “hmm, maybe I should try it” chances are you fall into the queer-o-sexual category.

But hell, who cares what people do in the privacy of their own homes. If you want to go to brown town, go right ahead. Just make sure you wipe the poo off your nose before you go into public, mmmkay?

So I don’t understand why some guys like the cock. What I really don’t understand is the flamboyant gays. You still have a penis. It’s ok for you to like cars and power tools even if you’re getting some up the bum. Why the lisp? Why the light loafers? Why the women’s clothing?

And meterosexuals: You like the poonani but you’ve got more girl in you than Rue Paul on his girliest day of girling out? What the hell is wrong with you!

There is one group of people who I think is gayest of all: The intolerant religious, like Pat Robertson and his ilk of poorly educated whackjobs. It’s one thing to be an asshat like me, it’s another to persecute people for doing things that are just none of your business. Yea yea, you all say that being gay is a choice. I’m sure that if a gay guy could choose to be straight to avoid ignorant persecution he would. So why are Pat Roberston and his ignorant ilk all flaming faggots? Because you are what you cannot drop. They fear themselves more than anything. Chaw on that!

Yea, I don’t understand guys that like penis (other than their own).  Fine, I think it’s gross, you can call me ignorant if you want. But you can also call me a hypocrite, because there is a group of homosexuals that just rock my socks.

HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT!

‘Nuff Said.

politically incorrect boobs, gay, homosexual, ignorance, Pat Robertson, Richard Simmons