Ladies and trash, the results are officially in. This poll decides the winner of the 2010 premature Trash Blog column favorite. Here we go.
The readers' choice favorite column is Fuck You God! Fuck You God is the newest column of the bunch, the underdog and the rookie. And at only 5 posts, it seems to have caught the attention of The Trash Blog trashful. Expert Herman attributes the victory to the fact that there are too many goddamn atheists these days. Not that's necessarily a bad thing. In fact, it's a very good thing actually.
Trash Talk took an early lead when the poll initially opened. The Trash Blog's poster column was a fan favorite with eclectic topics of discussion. Shit Talk...Literally and I'm a Douche eventually caught up by the end of the week. Readers must have liked Shit Talk like Trash Talk, except that it was actually about shit. I'm a Douche must have opened up followers' inner douches. Last weekend though, Fuck You God jumped out to a commanding lead. And this week, a late push by Shit Talk...Literally with Shit Week 2010 failed to avoid the upset. Dream Journal was never in the running from the start. Author Jones blames it on the trash who can't stomach graphic journalism. Pussies. "Fuck you guys," Jones says. "I don't care if you like this shit or not, it's still going on."
And there you have it. The Trash Blog is proud to announce, the early favorite in the running for 2010 Trash Blog Column of the Year, Fuck You God! Let's give it a round of applause before we conclude this poll with a fuck you, and have a nice day.
Jones wants to conclude this with an offer of $20 to Haiti if this blog reaches at least 4k views. So happy clicking, you trash!
Trash Talk
5 (18%)
Shit Talk...Literally
6 (22%)
I'm a Douche
4 (14%)
Dream Journal
3 (11%)
Fuck You God
9 (33%)
Votes so far: 27
Poll closed
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Saturday, January 30, 2010
About the Editors
You want to know more about us, don't you, you homos? Here's a bit to keep you satisfied, so shut the fuck up. This article was written by a third party member to prevent bias.
Name: Jones Andre Hewitt
Position: Editor-in-chief
Age: 18
Sex/Gender: Male
Race/Ethnicity: African American
Bio: Lives in Northern California but attends California State University [redacted for privacy reasons] down south. Hobbies include fishing, smoking pot, playing basketball, sleeping, and video games. His favorite food is submarine sandwiches, and his favorite drink is coffee. Two of his favorite things are the word "fuck" and the middle finger. Enjoys listening to rap music and his favorite musical artist is Snoop Dogg. In his free time he likes to invent new words, have sex, buy new shoes, and write for The Trash Blog. It is also noted that Jones is a fourth degree black belt in Jujitsu.
Name: Herman Carson
Position: Senior Editor
Age: 19
Sex/Gender: Male
Race/Ethnicity: German/Asian American
Bio: Hails from NorCal and goes to college in New York City. Hobbies are playing sports and video games, watching TV and movies, and of course writing for The Trash Blog with an emphasis on defecation. Interests are baseball, cars, and girls. Last meal on Earth would be medium rare prime rib with portobello mushroom sauce; buttery mashed potatoes with gravy; lightly salted green beans, carrots, and corn; cane sugar soda; and strawberry ice cream for dessert.
That's all for now you faggots. Now get the fuck out of our sights.
Name: Jones Andre Hewitt
Position: Editor-in-chief
Age: 18
Sex/Gender: Male
Race/Ethnicity: African American
Bio: Lives in Northern California but attends California State University [redacted for privacy reasons] down south. Hobbies include fishing, smoking pot, playing basketball, sleeping, and video games. His favorite food is submarine sandwiches, and his favorite drink is coffee. Two of his favorite things are the word "fuck" and the middle finger. Enjoys listening to rap music and his favorite musical artist is Snoop Dogg. In his free time he likes to invent new words, have sex, buy new shoes, and write for The Trash Blog. It is also noted that Jones is a fourth degree black belt in Jujitsu.
Name: Herman Carson
Position: Senior Editor
Age: 19
Sex/Gender: Male
Race/Ethnicity: German/Asian American
Bio: Hails from NorCal and goes to college in New York City. Hobbies are playing sports and video games, watching TV and movies, and of course writing for The Trash Blog with an emphasis on defecation. Interests are baseball, cars, and girls. Last meal on Earth would be medium rare prime rib with portobello mushroom sauce; buttery mashed potatoes with gravy; lightly salted green beans, carrots, and corn; cane sugar soda; and strawberry ice cream for dessert.
That's all for now you faggots. Now get the fuck out of our sights.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Hey asshole, catch!
Thought I forgot about being a douche? Hells no. I'm not going to spend all of Shit Week being doucheless, oh no, I got some serious cruelty to catch up on. That's right you pathetic fucklickers, I brought latex gloves to college for that.
I was taking a dump after I had no more classes to go to. It was the perfect day, and it was the perfect plan for a perfect attack. Everything was perfect except for one thing. There was no fucking victim. A douche cannot be without a victim. I was going to give up and flush the toilet when I heard the door creak open. Fuck yes! I reached in and grabbed two handfuls of shit. I peeked over. It was Dumbass from Psychology class. What luck! I screamed a battle cry and hurled the shit at him. "What the fu-" he began. WAP! A shit exploded across his white Abercrombie and Fitch sweatshirt. He held up his arms to cover his face as the second one pelted right through the opening and into his sweatshirt's neck. Then I ran, abandoning the gloves at a nearby bush. He doesn't know me. He prolly thought I was some psycho hiding in the stall or something. I'm proud to chuck shit on shit like him, like I'm Shaka Zulu, African warrior. Fuck it I'm too fucking high to write more to you motherfuckers. Later fuckthatcher.
I was taking a dump after I had no more classes to go to. It was the perfect day, and it was the perfect plan for a perfect attack. Everything was perfect except for one thing. There was no fucking victim. A douche cannot be without a victim. I was going to give up and flush the toilet when I heard the door creak open. Fuck yes! I reached in and grabbed two handfuls of shit. I peeked over. It was Dumbass from Psychology class. What luck! I screamed a battle cry and hurled the shit at him. "What the fu-" he began. WAP! A shit exploded across his white Abercrombie and Fitch sweatshirt. He held up his arms to cover his face as the second one pelted right through the opening and into his sweatshirt's neck. Then I ran, abandoning the gloves at a nearby bush. He doesn't know me. He prolly thought I was some psycho hiding in the stall or something. I'm proud to chuck shit on shit like him, like I'm Shaka Zulu, African warrior. Fuck it I'm too fucking high to write more to you motherfuckers. Later fuckthatcher.
Shit Stories Vol. 3: Slide Shit
Summer days...seems like there's light out all day and the days are endless. That's because summer days are the longest in the year...nice. When night falls, it isn't uncomfortably cold out. Instead it's one of those hot August nights, which makes for an opportune bike ride 'round.
Me and my friend Ryan were tired of playing video games inside and wanted to get some fresh air. But we sure as hell didn't want to walk around. A quick bike ride for fun, and we would call it a night. We packed two cans of Pepsi, placing them in the cup holders on the bike frames. I checked the tire air pressures and pumped the slightly flat ones accordingly. All set to go.
We kicked off into the night. We circled the immediate community for a while, before stopping at the local park to take a break. We grabbed the Pepsis and walked toward the playground. I ran up a low slide onto the platform of a jungle gym. Ryan took the stairs. We popped open our Pepsis and took a drink. I sipped my Pepsi staring out into the black. It was dark except for some streetlights surrounding the park. I turned to face Ryan, who had already finished his soda and was crumpling the can. "Where's the fire?" I said. He laughed. We talked about stuff, reminisced, nothing too important, and if you wanted to know, you can go ahead and fuck off, because I don't remember what we talked about. I finished my can.
"You feel like taking a shit?" Ryan asked.
I just realized I was drinking a carbonated beverage. Shit and carbon dioxide don't mix as you should already know. This makes for a pipe bomb, and your intestines are the pipes. My stomach was full of gas. And it was pushing on my intestines, which were pushing on my rectum. "Fucking a, I need to shit," I declared. There were no restrooms in this park or nearby for that matter. We were too far away from my house. The shit had its head out by now. I would never make it back without shitting my pants first. "We're going to have to shit somewhere around here, but there's just grass around here. No trees, no bushes, nothing to shit behind," I observed.
"Hey, you know what would be hilarious?" Ryan questioned. "If we shat down these slides. There's a spiral slide. That would be really fucking fun. I mean as long as we're going to take a dump somewhere here, let's shit down the slides."
Why the hell not? Ryan took the spiral slide up top, which required another set of steep stairs since it was so high up. I took a long and narrow straight slide. I stuck my ass into the tunnel and grunted. Upstairs I heard a plop of shit hitting metal and a subsequent laugh. I looked over and saw a long turd circling its way down to the bottom. The shit didn't make it to the ground, however, since the end of the slide was completely horizontal for a couple feet. That doesn't bode well for the next object going down the slide I thought. Meanwhile, I was trying my damnest to get my shit out. The coke really had me going, so this was supposed to be cake. I clenched my ass and cut the shit loose. The impact made a satisfying sound. I looked over my shoulder as the turd slid with speed towards the bottom of the slide. It fell apart on the way down. Some ended up on the slide still, while some made it to the tanbark. That shit was rock hard. No smudges or smears. No smell because essentially the shit cleared the vicinity right away. I didn't want to inspect its color or texture if it wasn't in my peripheral. Sometimes you have to let it go.
I once again looked over to see what Ryan was doing. He was done and was now standing up, pissing down the slide. The stream emptied out at the bottom uneventfully. Just one turd for me this time. I average two most of the time. Remaining in the squatting position, I relaxed my bladder. Fuck, bad idea. The hot ass yellow urine bounced off the slanted slide and was splashing all over the fucking place. I tried to slow down the stream. It's so difficult to make it stop. It feels so good to piss, and it hurts to get it to stop. I tried to move too since I couldn't get it to slow down enough to a point it would stop getting on me. I slipped. I had placed my left foot on the slide, which was now slippery because of the liquid. The force threw me forward down the slide. I was such in shock at my misfortune, the stream of piss was cut at once. My right foot was dragged and landed on the slide now. At this point I was sideways. Without thinking, I skateboarded/snowboarded down the slide to about midway, and then using the strength of my thighs, I extended my legs and jumped from a height of maybe three or four feet. Nevertheless, it was cool as I touchdowned smoothly.
I finished my piss on the the playground, spraying it across the structure. I looked at the bottoms of my shoes and saw that they were wet. I couldn't tell if there was shit on them because it was too dark. Just to be safe, I lifted my shoe onto the drinking fountain and rinsed them. I finished cleaning by wiping them on the grass. No harm done.
To this day, me and Ryan just can help but laugh at this memory, since it was so fucking ridiculous. We thought about people's reactions, kids or adults, when they discovered the feces, and how repulsed they would be. What kind of sicko would do such a thing to innocent children? Shit is shit and doesn't belong anywhere near us. By the time they got some poor fool to clean the shit up and deem the playground sanitary again, it would be too late. Kids had already slid down the dried up shit and piss slides. And we didn't just do it this one time. We had so much fun, we did it a few more times. It was a thrill ride. If you landed in our piles of human shit, then you deserve it, you trash.
And that's Shit Week 2010 for ya. We here at Trash Blog sincerely hope that you enjoyed reading shit 24/5. Good night and good shit.
Me and my friend Ryan were tired of playing video games inside and wanted to get some fresh air. But we sure as hell didn't want to walk around. A quick bike ride for fun, and we would call it a night. We packed two cans of Pepsi, placing them in the cup holders on the bike frames. I checked the tire air pressures and pumped the slightly flat ones accordingly. All set to go.
We kicked off into the night. We circled the immediate community for a while, before stopping at the local park to take a break. We grabbed the Pepsis and walked toward the playground. I ran up a low slide onto the platform of a jungle gym. Ryan took the stairs. We popped open our Pepsis and took a drink. I sipped my Pepsi staring out into the black. It was dark except for some streetlights surrounding the park. I turned to face Ryan, who had already finished his soda and was crumpling the can. "Where's the fire?" I said. He laughed. We talked about stuff, reminisced, nothing too important, and if you wanted to know, you can go ahead and fuck off, because I don't remember what we talked about. I finished my can.
"You feel like taking a shit?" Ryan asked.
I just realized I was drinking a carbonated beverage. Shit and carbon dioxide don't mix as you should already know. This makes for a pipe bomb, and your intestines are the pipes. My stomach was full of gas. And it was pushing on my intestines, which were pushing on my rectum. "Fucking a, I need to shit," I declared. There were no restrooms in this park or nearby for that matter. We were too far away from my house. The shit had its head out by now. I would never make it back without shitting my pants first. "We're going to have to shit somewhere around here, but there's just grass around here. No trees, no bushes, nothing to shit behind," I observed.
"Hey, you know what would be hilarious?" Ryan questioned. "If we shat down these slides. There's a spiral slide. That would be really fucking fun. I mean as long as we're going to take a dump somewhere here, let's shit down the slides."
Why the hell not? Ryan took the spiral slide up top, which required another set of steep stairs since it was so high up. I took a long and narrow straight slide. I stuck my ass into the tunnel and grunted. Upstairs I heard a plop of shit hitting metal and a subsequent laugh. I looked over and saw a long turd circling its way down to the bottom. The shit didn't make it to the ground, however, since the end of the slide was completely horizontal for a couple feet. That doesn't bode well for the next object going down the slide I thought. Meanwhile, I was trying my damnest to get my shit out. The coke really had me going, so this was supposed to be cake. I clenched my ass and cut the shit loose. The impact made a satisfying sound. I looked over my shoulder as the turd slid with speed towards the bottom of the slide. It fell apart on the way down. Some ended up on the slide still, while some made it to the tanbark. That shit was rock hard. No smudges or smears. No smell because essentially the shit cleared the vicinity right away. I didn't want to inspect its color or texture if it wasn't in my peripheral. Sometimes you have to let it go.
I once again looked over to see what Ryan was doing. He was done and was now standing up, pissing down the slide. The stream emptied out at the bottom uneventfully. Just one turd for me this time. I average two most of the time. Remaining in the squatting position, I relaxed my bladder. Fuck, bad idea. The hot ass yellow urine bounced off the slanted slide and was splashing all over the fucking place. I tried to slow down the stream. It's so difficult to make it stop. It feels so good to piss, and it hurts to get it to stop. I tried to move too since I couldn't get it to slow down enough to a point it would stop getting on me. I slipped. I had placed my left foot on the slide, which was now slippery because of the liquid. The force threw me forward down the slide. I was such in shock at my misfortune, the stream of piss was cut at once. My right foot was dragged and landed on the slide now. At this point I was sideways. Without thinking, I skateboarded/snowboarded down the slide to about midway, and then using the strength of my thighs, I extended my legs and jumped from a height of maybe three or four feet. Nevertheless, it was cool as I touchdowned smoothly.
I finished my piss on the the playground, spraying it across the structure. I looked at the bottoms of my shoes and saw that they were wet. I couldn't tell if there was shit on them because it was too dark. Just to be safe, I lifted my shoe onto the drinking fountain and rinsed them. I finished cleaning by wiping them on the grass. No harm done.
To this day, me and Ryan just can help but laugh at this memory, since it was so fucking ridiculous. We thought about people's reactions, kids or adults, when they discovered the feces, and how repulsed they would be. What kind of sicko would do such a thing to innocent children? Shit is shit and doesn't belong anywhere near us. By the time they got some poor fool to clean the shit up and deem the playground sanitary again, it would be too late. Kids had already slid down the dried up shit and piss slides. And we didn't just do it this one time. We had so much fun, we did it a few more times. It was a thrill ride. If you landed in our piles of human shit, then you deserve it, you trash.
And that's Shit Week 2010 for ya. We here at Trash Blog sincerely hope that you enjoyed reading shit 24/5. Good night and good shit.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Jones Hewitt's First Best Shit Journal Article Ever!
Four, tres, two, uno
Listen up bitch/ 'Cause this is it/ The shit I'm talking about is hella sick
Alright, I'm just fucking with y'all fuckheads. I'm not too familiar with writing shit journals, but I decided to give it a shot so I kindly ask you to please shut the fuck up. For this, I spent a day munching on snacks and had a full breakfast and lunch. For you nosy cum-slurping bastards, this was what I had for today: a cheese bagel, a can of Pepsi, a mug of coffee, a Big Gulp, two packages of Top Ramen, a bag of Sweet and Sour Doritos, and a Pepperoni Pizza Hot Pocket. Yes, bitch, I was fucking hungry. I work out a lot so I deserve it you, you chafed dick-shit. When 6:42 generously arrived, I went to take my dump. I turned on the radio and who else would go on but the pussy-bitch nigga Soulja Boy. Not gonna lie, his song was effective when I was taking my dump. Fuck Soulja Boy, that pathetic shit-dick snatch.
When I was done taking my shit, I saw it was a simple textbook soil colored shit. Nothing out of the ordinary. I would give it 4-5 inches maybe. I tossed in toilet paper as if I was attending a funeral for the Navy. I did not flush it so I could note the smell of the shit. There was no scent until it kicked in at exactly 40 seconds and it was fucking rancid. I flushed that fucker out, turned on the fan, washed my hands (you wash your hands after taking a shit you degenerate sicko) and read my magazines.
This was the kind of shit that make you yawn and smack your lips for something. Fucking weird. That's all for today. Fuck you ass-prone faggots who want more from me. For you insolent useless pieces of fucking trash who don't like this, if you can't stand the shit, then get the fuck out of here, you retarded homosexual failure of a fuck. If you come here just to be a disfigured fuck, why don't you be a useful shit-for-sale, you prematurely-ejaculating piece of fucking dickshit. Aiight, I've had enough of you cock-carrying douchebags reading my shit for today. Get the fuck outta here. Fuck you, fuck you.
Listen up bitch/ 'Cause this is it/ The shit I'm talking about is hella sick
Alright, I'm just fucking with y'all fuckheads. I'm not too familiar with writing shit journals, but I decided to give it a shot so I kindly ask you to please shut the fuck up. For this, I spent a day munching on snacks and had a full breakfast and lunch. For you nosy cum-slurping bastards, this was what I had for today: a cheese bagel, a can of Pepsi, a mug of coffee, a Big Gulp, two packages of Top Ramen, a bag of Sweet and Sour Doritos, and a Pepperoni Pizza Hot Pocket. Yes, bitch, I was fucking hungry. I work out a lot so I deserve it you, you chafed dick-shit. When 6:42 generously arrived, I went to take my dump. I turned on the radio and who else would go on but the pussy-bitch nigga Soulja Boy. Not gonna lie, his song was effective when I was taking my dump. Fuck Soulja Boy, that pathetic shit-dick snatch.
When I was done taking my shit, I saw it was a simple textbook soil colored shit. Nothing out of the ordinary. I would give it 4-5 inches maybe. I tossed in toilet paper as if I was attending a funeral for the Navy. I did not flush it so I could note the smell of the shit. There was no scent until it kicked in at exactly 40 seconds and it was fucking rancid. I flushed that fucker out, turned on the fan, washed my hands (you wash your hands after taking a shit you degenerate sicko) and read my magazines.
This was the kind of shit that make you yawn and smack your lips for something. Fucking weird. That's all for today. Fuck you ass-prone faggots who want more from me. For you insolent useless pieces of fucking trash who don't like this, if you can't stand the shit, then get the fuck out of here, you retarded homosexual failure of a fuck. If you come here just to be a disfigured fuck, why don't you be a useful shit-for-sale, you prematurely-ejaculating piece of fucking dickshit. Aiight, I've had enough of you cock-carrying douchebags reading my shit for today. Get the fuck outta here. Fuck you, fuck you.
Shit After Dark
My eyes opened at once. I could see nothing. It was pitch black. I had awaken in the middle of the night. The night of the worst day in a long time. I was just trying to sleep it off. I hate it when I wake up for no apparent reason. Interrupted sleep always makes me feel more tired during the next day. I closed my eyes again to go back to sleep. Lo and behold I felt something terrible down there once again. I must have swine flu or some shit. Since the H1N1 virus broke out, I had ignored the free vaccinations around school. I regretted it now when it was too late. Well I don't have swine flu, just fucking diarrhea. No cough, no sneeze, no runny nose, no nothing flu related. Just watery shit.
I ran out into the hallway without bothering to dress decently. This is a coed dorm, but there's no one out at this hour. I couldn't risk shitting my pants. That's fucking nasty. I would just throw away my soiled clothes. Once again like it was routine, I kicked open both doors to the toilet. This was an emergency, and I was in a hurry. There were toilet seat covers this time. I also took the time to throw one into the bowl. The pain wasn't as bad as previously. I sat down and prayed to God. "If there is a God, make it stop! Please God!" I pushed. Soggy shit leaked out of my asshole. The watery diarrhea wasn't just confined to my asshole, but it also seeped onto my ass cheeks. "Fuck you God!" The pain subsided. I wiped like 10 times again and flushed. I also went into the shower to rinse off my shitted up ass. Before I left the restroom, I looked at myself in the mirror. "What did I do to deserve this? Fucking God and Mexicans."
When I got back to my room, all I wanted to do was to sleep. I was tired. Another pang hit below. I winced and scrambled to the restroom again. For the second time, I had the same result. Watery shit exploded all over my ass. 10 wipes and another shower. After the wash while I was still in the restroom, I felt something again. "For fucking fuck's sake!" I threw open the stall door and angrily prepared the proper defecation procedure. Vomit inducing smelling diarrhea once again contaminated my asshole. I am so tired of this shit. I better not have fucking swine flu! 10 more fucking wipes, a third fucking shower, and I just wanted to kill God. Three times! Three motherfucking times God, explain that to me you trash!
I made it back to my room without feeling anything. My clock read 4 AM. It was a little passed 3 AM when this whole shit started. I laid down slowly on my back. Nothing. Closed my eyes, nothing. Fina-fucking-ly. Good fucking night.
Order up another shower for me tonight. God fuck.
I ran out into the hallway without bothering to dress decently. This is a coed dorm, but there's no one out at this hour. I couldn't risk shitting my pants. That's fucking nasty. I would just throw away my soiled clothes. Once again like it was routine, I kicked open both doors to the toilet. This was an emergency, and I was in a hurry. There were toilet seat covers this time. I also took the time to throw one into the bowl. The pain wasn't as bad as previously. I sat down and prayed to God. "If there is a God, make it stop! Please God!" I pushed. Soggy shit leaked out of my asshole. The watery diarrhea wasn't just confined to my asshole, but it also seeped onto my ass cheeks. "Fuck you God!" The pain subsided. I wiped like 10 times again and flushed. I also went into the shower to rinse off my shitted up ass. Before I left the restroom, I looked at myself in the mirror. "What did I do to deserve this? Fucking God and Mexicans."
When I got back to my room, all I wanted to do was to sleep. I was tired. Another pang hit below. I winced and scrambled to the restroom again. For the second time, I had the same result. Watery shit exploded all over my ass. 10 wipes and another shower. After the wash while I was still in the restroom, I felt something again. "For fucking fuck's sake!" I threw open the stall door and angrily prepared the proper defecation procedure. Vomit inducing smelling diarrhea once again contaminated my asshole. I am so tired of this shit. I better not have fucking swine flu! 10 more fucking wipes, a third fucking shower, and I just wanted to kill God. Three times! Three motherfucking times God, explain that to me you trash!
I made it back to my room without feeling anything. My clock read 4 AM. It was a little passed 3 AM when this whole shit started. I laid down slowly on my back. Nothing. Closed my eyes, nothing. Fina-fucking-ly. Good fucking night.
Order up another shower for me tonight. God fuck.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Songs to Shit To
Behold the miracle of iPods and the radio in the bathroom! Now, when I'm in the bathroom dropping deuces, I like it when I have some tunes in the background. Because Herman told me about Shit Week a week prior, I had a week's time to gather extensive data about shit and music. Let's get crackin', you retarded dickmilk.
Here are my Top 5 results.
Just a reminder for you shitwits, two more nights of Shit Week! That's right you dick drinker, you don't want to miss this, you cock-cleaving fag-herding fuck. See you tomorrow, bitch!
Here are my Top 5 results.
- Eye of the Tiger by Survivor
Survivor's song quickly starts your rectum going by a slamming introduction that causes an involuntarily clench that will help start loosening the shit lodged up your asshole. By the time the vocals begin, you're more than halfway done. A quick, efficient way to end a trip to the bathroom. This song is chosen for its status as a pro-athletic song and as you know it, no one takes a dump like an athlete. I'm a fucking athlete, bitch. - Tell Me Baby by Red Hot Chili Peppers
The jazzy bass music brought to you by Flea presents to you a funky tune that even your bowels can't resist but to dance to. I'm especially talking about the chorus and the verses. Your shit will groove out like a plant during high speed photosynthesis before you can ask "what's your story?" The reason this song is chosen as Number 2 is because of the ding-dong sound that although may annoy you, it kicks ass in the bathroom. Trust me, shitlick. - Drop It Like It's Hot by Snoop Dogg
Personally, I like the beat in the background. Simple and catchy, Snoop's voice makes it sound like you're listening to a mellow radio announcer that will soothe you, and you can take a proper shit in tranquility and peace. One of the best to shit to, yezzir. Snoop is the fucking shit. Fuck y'all. No complaints here, you witless cumchugger. - Kids by MGMT
What causes shit to come out better than electronic-dance pop? MGMT takes it all away with a great beat and hypnotic vocals that will probably have you doing the robot while you shell out a few rolls of toilet paper for your filthy asshole. The chorus plays an amazing role in getting pesky shit out. I think this song is best played at the annoying midnight-3am shits. Best for college kids. College life, fuck yeah, you rhoid squeezing cock contrivers. Speaking of college, fuck you Asher Roth. You never went to college you dick deploying shit-for-sale. You pansy-ass queer. - Santeria by Sublime
Santeria really does voodoo onto your lower intestines that work wonders. Perhaps your dump may not be the quickest and fastest, but this causes every drop of water to have a sense of jazzy comfort. Awesome reggae beat for a bomber. It helps the most when you know the words to the song. Let's see why this song is great. Cause Sublime's the fucking shit. If you didn't know that, you're a retarded cock-eating fuckwit. Get the fuck out of here. You disgust me.
Just a reminder for you shitwits, two more nights of Shit Week! That's right you dick drinker, you don't want to miss this, you cock-cleaving fag-herding fuck. See you tomorrow, bitch!
Day of the Shit
Today was the worst day in my life as far as I can recall. I was almost reduced to tears this afternoon. My insides felt like they were going to explode, and an alien was going to come out vis-a-vis Resident Evil. I was headed to class just like any other normal day, and along the walk to the bus stop, I felt a blunt pang in my stomach. I brushed it off and boarded the bus to class. But Goddamn, multiple blows along the way made me want to turn back and collapse in my bed to sleep it off. I had to go to class though cause the bitch takes attendance, does in-class quizzes, and doesn't post her notes online. Bitch.
Throughout the lecture, I keeled over multiple times because of the enormous amount of pain I was experiencing. It would hit, then go away for a few minutes, then come back stronger than ever. I wanted to die. I felt faint. Sound was blocked out. The surroundings melted away as my vision blurred. Fuck you God. Why's this shit always have to happen to me? However, I'm not filing this under Fuck You God as you will come to see, this was a more biological cause than natural. This shit just had to happen to me during Shit Week. Fuck me upside down.
Then I felt something. Yes indeed, there was something stuck up my asshole. I farted, burped, no dice. I'm near the front in the middle of the row. There's no way to get out without making commotion. Fuck this class. This class is suppose to be a joke. Blame the bitch again because of the way she runs her class, everyone just has to be there. Plus I might miss attendance or quizzes and definitely notes while I'm shitting it out in the restroom. Fuck me right side up. I had to stay for one more excruciating hour. I leaned my head against my upright arm with my head down and closed my eyes to simulate sleeping. Hopefully it would stop the pain. It worked. But then class was over. I had to get up. Fuck me upside down again. I was leaning forward, grimacing as I walked to the bus stop. I didn't know where the fuck the restroom was in this fucking building, so I had no choice but to go back to an area where I knew where the fucking restrooms were. I just wanted to drop into a fetal position right then and there. I just wanted to shit it out behind the bushes. But it was fucking mid-day, the peak of the day. The whole fucking place was crowded.
The bus seemed to take forever to arrive. Once here, there was a mad (not in the sense of hella, so fuck yourself) scramble as always. Fuck this school. There needs to be an epidemic that wipes out half of the student body. Fucking public schools. A complete clusterfuck. So I had to stand up. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me! There was fucking traffic. The restrooms were just a mile away, maybe even less. I was holding onto the bars in the bus for support, not just to hold on. Again the environment disappeared. I was feeling weak, tears in my eyes. I could've shitted my pants at that point. At long last the bus arrived at my stop. I shoved people out of the way, jumped into the crowd milling around the bus door, and broke out into a sprint to the fucking restroom.
I kicked open the restroom door, kicked open the stall door. It was hurting so bad. Just a few more seconds I thought as I laid down the toilet paper (no toilet seat covers). I slammed my ass down and let it go. Kill me now, it was the worst pain I had felt so far today, in my life. I finally cried. I screamed. Slowly the hard, stiff turd inched out of my asshole. Splash! Fuck me senseless. I forgot to throw some toilet paper into the bowl. Who gives a fuck now? A wet, germy asshole is better than no asshole at all. Yeah, other people's shit and piss were technically on my asshole now, but I still had shit to get done here. But fuck, the pain was still coming. I had more to give. Another rock hard deuce, another splash onto my ass. Still unbearable pain. Then it all rained down like a hurricane. Splatter shit ruptured out, detonating the toilet bowl. It looked like Osama bin Laden's cave. Every push and more diarrhea leaked out. My asshole was blazed up red hot. I broke down. With my asshole stained with my discharge and my pants down to my ankles, I banged the stall door repeatedly with my fist. "Why God? Why? Why me? Fuck yourself God. Go to hell God. God fuck!" I got myself together, unrolled a yard of paper and cleaned up my ass cheeks first. Yellow smelly sludge. I wanted to throw up it stunk so bad. I unrolled another yard and stuck it in the crack. Gush! "Oh come on! For fuck's sake!" 10 wipes later at a yard apiece, I got the last stain out, but I still felt dirty. I didn't bother to flush. A present of how bad things are in life for the next occupant. No one was here the whole time, so I grabbed another yard and went to the sink with my pants down and everything out. Dashed it with water, wiped once, and it came out clean. Dried my ass with another yard.
By the time I was done, I was going to be late for my next class. I didn't give two shits. I was just glad I survived this ordeal. The diarrhea had dehydrated me, so I went to the student store to get a flavor. The bus stop was right next to the store, so I looked at the ticker to see how much time I had before my bus came. 3 minutes. OK, that's enough time. I got my drink and went towards the register, but a girl cut in front of me. Not intentionally but no sweat. I paid, took a swig, and stepped outside. The bus driver closed the door in front of my face. Worst day ever.
Alright I have to wash my dirty asshole now. See ya tomorrow night you trash.
Throughout the lecture, I keeled over multiple times because of the enormous amount of pain I was experiencing. It would hit, then go away for a few minutes, then come back stronger than ever. I wanted to die. I felt faint. Sound was blocked out. The surroundings melted away as my vision blurred. Fuck you God. Why's this shit always have to happen to me? However, I'm not filing this under Fuck You God as you will come to see, this was a more biological cause than natural. This shit just had to happen to me during Shit Week. Fuck me upside down.
Then I felt something. Yes indeed, there was something stuck up my asshole. I farted, burped, no dice. I'm near the front in the middle of the row. There's no way to get out without making commotion. Fuck this class. This class is suppose to be a joke. Blame the bitch again because of the way she runs her class, everyone just has to be there. Plus I might miss attendance or quizzes and definitely notes while I'm shitting it out in the restroom. Fuck me right side up. I had to stay for one more excruciating hour. I leaned my head against my upright arm with my head down and closed my eyes to simulate sleeping. Hopefully it would stop the pain. It worked. But then class was over. I had to get up. Fuck me upside down again. I was leaning forward, grimacing as I walked to the bus stop. I didn't know where the fuck the restroom was in this fucking building, so I had no choice but to go back to an area where I knew where the fucking restrooms were. I just wanted to drop into a fetal position right then and there. I just wanted to shit it out behind the bushes. But it was fucking mid-day, the peak of the day. The whole fucking place was crowded.
The bus seemed to take forever to arrive. Once here, there was a mad (not in the sense of hella, so fuck yourself) scramble as always. Fuck this school. There needs to be an epidemic that wipes out half of the student body. Fucking public schools. A complete clusterfuck. So I had to stand up. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me! There was fucking traffic. The restrooms were just a mile away, maybe even less. I was holding onto the bars in the bus for support, not just to hold on. Again the environment disappeared. I was feeling weak, tears in my eyes. I could've shitted my pants at that point. At long last the bus arrived at my stop. I shoved people out of the way, jumped into the crowd milling around the bus door, and broke out into a sprint to the fucking restroom.
I kicked open the restroom door, kicked open the stall door. It was hurting so bad. Just a few more seconds I thought as I laid down the toilet paper (no toilet seat covers). I slammed my ass down and let it go. Kill me now, it was the worst pain I had felt so far today, in my life. I finally cried. I screamed. Slowly the hard, stiff turd inched out of my asshole. Splash! Fuck me senseless. I forgot to throw some toilet paper into the bowl. Who gives a fuck now? A wet, germy asshole is better than no asshole at all. Yeah, other people's shit and piss were technically on my asshole now, but I still had shit to get done here. But fuck, the pain was still coming. I had more to give. Another rock hard deuce, another splash onto my ass. Still unbearable pain. Then it all rained down like a hurricane. Splatter shit ruptured out, detonating the toilet bowl. It looked like Osama bin Laden's cave. Every push and more diarrhea leaked out. My asshole was blazed up red hot. I broke down. With my asshole stained with my discharge and my pants down to my ankles, I banged the stall door repeatedly with my fist. "Why God? Why? Why me? Fuck yourself God. Go to hell God. God fuck!" I got myself together, unrolled a yard of paper and cleaned up my ass cheeks first. Yellow smelly sludge. I wanted to throw up it stunk so bad. I unrolled another yard and stuck it in the crack. Gush! "Oh come on! For fuck's sake!" 10 wipes later at a yard apiece, I got the last stain out, but I still felt dirty. I didn't bother to flush. A present of how bad things are in life for the next occupant. No one was here the whole time, so I grabbed another yard and went to the sink with my pants down and everything out. Dashed it with water, wiped once, and it came out clean. Dried my ass with another yard.
By the time I was done, I was going to be late for my next class. I didn't give two shits. I was just glad I survived this ordeal. The diarrhea had dehydrated me, so I went to the student store to get a flavor. The bus stop was right next to the store, so I looked at the ticker to see how much time I had before my bus came. 3 minutes. OK, that's enough time. I got my drink and went towards the register, but a girl cut in front of me. Not intentionally but no sweat. I paid, took a swig, and stepped outside. The bus driver closed the door in front of my face. Worst day ever.
Alright I have to wash my dirty asshole now. See ya tomorrow night you trash.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Herman Carson is a sick fuck
That's right, I'm talking about my degenerate sicko (not biologically related) cousin. We're cool with each other and all, and he visits me sometimes when he comes back from New York. But Goddamn. There are things I have to put my foot down. That's right. It has something to do with his disgusting "hobby".
Every time this sick fuck visits me, he always wants to take a shit in my bathroom. My fucking bathroom! I tell him to fuck off and take a shit in the public bathrooms down the hall, or maybe at the McDonald's or at the park or the mall, all nearby and at a reasonable walking distance. But no, do you know what that half-gook tells me? "Naw, man, it's no fun taking a shit in a public bathroom." What the fuck? Now I know your deliberately doing this, you fucking jackass.
He is very persistent and even proposed a challenge. Herman pulled out two Xbox controllers and challenged me to a duel of Halo. He knows I can fuck his shit up, but I still declined the offer. He got mad and proceeded into calling me a pussy, a fuck, and a nigger. I asked that douchebag what do I get out of it. He slapped down five dollars. Now the game is on. I grabbed my controller, and it was go time nigga.
This is Shit Week, so I'll cut the shit short. I lost, barely! That asshole looked at me triumphantly and strolled into my throne, my precious bathroom. Outside I heard that twisted, witless fuckass deliberately making disgusting groaning and grunting noises. I checked my Rolex. Seven minutes. Jesus H. Christ, what the fuck is he doing in there? I hear a flush and the washing of hands. The lock turned and the door opened. All of a sudden, a nasty haze loomed in. The smell hit me like a baseball bat. It smelled like a skunk farted in my room after fucking a decomposing corpse. I bolted for the windows and yanked them the fuck open. I turned on the fucking fan in the fucking restroom and closed the fucking door. "You faggot piece of shit!" I began while spraying layers of Febreze in the air. "This is why I don't let you shit in my bathroom, you asshole fuck." Herman laughed. "I hope you have a gas mask for when you need to take a shit. Eat a dick, bitch."
Sometimes we still play games for rights to take a shit in my bathroom, although I never really get what's so good about taking a shit in my bathroom. I win some, I lose some. Long story short, Herman fucking disgusts me. Other people need to use my toilet too, you prick. You piece of shit. Show some respect for other people for a change, you fuckwit assclown.
On a side note, new Government professor is a fucking cunt. She'd be hot if she wasn't such a bitch. Fuck yourself. Alright, nothing more to read about here. Get the fuck out of here you dick biting heterophobic cunts. Don't forget you chodes, it's Shit Week. Three more nights of shit infested action you wouldn't want to miss!
Every time this sick fuck visits me, he always wants to take a shit in my bathroom. My fucking bathroom! I tell him to fuck off and take a shit in the public bathrooms down the hall, or maybe at the McDonald's or at the park or the mall, all nearby and at a reasonable walking distance. But no, do you know what that half-gook tells me? "Naw, man, it's no fun taking a shit in a public bathroom." What the fuck? Now I know your deliberately doing this, you fucking jackass.
He is very persistent and even proposed a challenge. Herman pulled out two Xbox controllers and challenged me to a duel of Halo. He knows I can fuck his shit up, but I still declined the offer. He got mad and proceeded into calling me a pussy, a fuck, and a nigger. I asked that douchebag what do I get out of it. He slapped down five dollars. Now the game is on. I grabbed my controller, and it was go time nigga.
This is Shit Week, so I'll cut the shit short. I lost, barely! That asshole looked at me triumphantly and strolled into my throne, my precious bathroom. Outside I heard that twisted, witless fuckass deliberately making disgusting groaning and grunting noises. I checked my Rolex. Seven minutes. Jesus H. Christ, what the fuck is he doing in there? I hear a flush and the washing of hands. The lock turned and the door opened. All of a sudden, a nasty haze loomed in. The smell hit me like a baseball bat. It smelled like a skunk farted in my room after fucking a decomposing corpse. I bolted for the windows and yanked them the fuck open. I turned on the fucking fan in the fucking restroom and closed the fucking door. "You faggot piece of shit!" I began while spraying layers of Febreze in the air. "This is why I don't let you shit in my bathroom, you asshole fuck." Herman laughed. "I hope you have a gas mask for when you need to take a shit. Eat a dick, bitch."
Sometimes we still play games for rights to take a shit in my bathroom, although I never really get what's so good about taking a shit in my bathroom. I win some, I lose some. Long story short, Herman fucking disgusts me. Other people need to use my toilet too, you prick. You piece of shit. Show some respect for other people for a change, you fuckwit assclown.
On a side note, new Government professor is a fucking cunt. She'd be hot if she wasn't such a bitch. Fuck yourself. Alright, nothing more to read about here. Get the fuck out of here you dick biting heterophobic cunts. Don't forget you chodes, it's Shit Week. Three more nights of shit infested action you wouldn't want to miss!
Great Brown Shit
I submitted my entry to the Mile High Club today. More like the Foot High Club though. Good thing I did it here at school in a public restroom on my floor. Piece of shit wouldn't have gone down my toilet at home. These public restroom toilets have like these built in vacuums or some shit. The force to pull the turd down is that strong. This shit seriously needed all 1.6 gallons of water to flush completely. I must've not shit for days. I wasn't keeping count. The amount of substance needed to comprise a foot long is unparalleled. Yes, once I got that internal feeling that something was backed up in my rectum, I knew this was going to a big one. How big I did not know, but I had to shit really bad. The bathroom was directly across from my room, so it only took like 10 seconds from rest in my room for my ass to be seated on the toilet with all the prearrangements done.
S-H-I-T, SHIT. Stories of Hardship, Interjection, and Triumph. These are the 3 fundamental stages of the defecation process. Damn that shit felt like it was going to explode out of my ass. The experience was painful. Every shit feels like the worst shit you've ever had thus far in your sorry life. It makes you feel like you were never born. This is child labor, giving birth to a turd. This one literally ripped my asshole wide open. I looked down to check on my progress. The head was out. "Push! Fuuuck! Umph! Fucking fuck! Aarrgh! Fuck me! Bitch! Shit! Son of a bitch! Fuck you God!" It just kept going and going and going. Slowly but surely. 4 inches, 5 inches, 6 inches. I'm above average now. 8, 9, 10! Leapshitted 7. This is Frankenstein's baby right here. 11, 11 and a half, and 12, cut-off. "Daaamn," I said as it slipped out at last. I felt so good inside now. Like this heavy weight inside me was finally alleviated. My asshole felt so relieved.
This was a shit of epic proportions. 12 motherfucking inches. A fucking foot long. So long that even though it settled far into the drainage hole, the shit still stuck up maybe 4 inches above surface of the water. You know what that means. I had to bail. And fast. A clean wipe the first try, and I pulled up my pants. I turned around to get one last look at it and kicked the handle. My last impression was that it was a slender, skinny shit, but bone me up the butthole was it the longest shit I had ever conceived in my entire life. Abraham Lincoln would've been proud.
S-H-I-T, SHIT. Stories of Hardship, Interjection, and Triumph. These are the 3 fundamental stages of the defecation process. Damn that shit felt like it was going to explode out of my ass. The experience was painful. Every shit feels like the worst shit you've ever had thus far in your sorry life. It makes you feel like you were never born. This is child labor, giving birth to a turd. This one literally ripped my asshole wide open. I looked down to check on my progress. The head was out. "Push! Fuuuck! Umph! Fucking fuck! Aarrgh! Fuck me! Bitch! Shit! Son of a bitch! Fuck you God!" It just kept going and going and going. Slowly but surely. 4 inches, 5 inches, 6 inches. I'm above average now. 8, 9, 10! Leapshitted 7. This is Frankenstein's baby right here. 11, 11 and a half, and 12, cut-off. "Daaamn," I said as it slipped out at last. I felt so good inside now. Like this heavy weight inside me was finally alleviated. My asshole felt so relieved.
This was a shit of epic proportions. 12 motherfucking inches. A fucking foot long. So long that even though it settled far into the drainage hole, the shit still stuck up maybe 4 inches above surface of the water. You know what that means. I had to bail. And fast. A clean wipe the first try, and I pulled up my pants. I turned around to get one last look at it and kicked the handle. My last impression was that it was a slender, skinny shit, but bone me up the butthole was it the longest shit I had ever conceived in my entire life. Abraham Lincoln would've been proud.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Food and Shit
Today I had to shit during lunchtime. Because I wanted to conserve my minutes and because this felt like a hot one, I decided to bring my food with me. My menu is a homemade hand-crafted beauty sub sandwich, Sweet & Sour Doritos Nachos, and Cherry Kool-Aid. I properly positioned myself so I could enjoy lunch: back straight, food to the side, and both hands on my sub with my pants around my ankles. While I was eating, I had a funny thought: food coming in, food coming out, simultaneously. At my feet lay last month's edition of High Times. It's my fucking house, no biggie.
My stomach rumbled, and shit flopped out like a torpedo. Before the stank could come out I was prepared and fired some Febreze into the air. Now I could eat my lunch with a tropical scent in the environment. I put some of my Doritos into my sandwich and took a big bite out of it. It was delicious. I dropped another round into the john. With my feet I turned the pages of the magazine with ease. The radio was on, and it was a very comfortable environment. In fact, I spent longer in the bathroom than I expected. I finished eating lunch and most of the magazines. I looked at my watch. I've been on the can for forty-five minutes, three minutes doing the actual shit. I tossed my paper plates and red cup and wiped my ass. I flushed the toilet and washed my hands with soap. I grabbed my magazine and slept on the couch.
I find taking a shit while eating to be perfectly fine. If you want to say something like "that's disgusting", no, for you homosexuals to be sucking another guy's dick, now that's disgusting. Who the fuck fucking cares? AFTER I fucking finish my sandwich, I'm gonna be wiping my asshole. It's not like I wiped my asshole before making my delicious layered sub. It's not like I wiped my asshole while eating my sub. I like to fucking eat, and I like to fucking shit. Besides, after I wipe my ass and wash my hands, it's the same fucking hands. About shit particles, that shit particles go on your toothbrushes too, so it's fucking fine. Stop being a fucking bitch, okay? I drink my morning coffee on the john every morning. Fuck you, eat a dick, motherfucker!
My stomach rumbled, and shit flopped out like a torpedo. Before the stank could come out I was prepared and fired some Febreze into the air. Now I could eat my lunch with a tropical scent in the environment. I put some of my Doritos into my sandwich and took a big bite out of it. It was delicious. I dropped another round into the john. With my feet I turned the pages of the magazine with ease. The radio was on, and it was a very comfortable environment. In fact, I spent longer in the bathroom than I expected. I finished eating lunch and most of the magazines. I looked at my watch. I've been on the can for forty-five minutes, three minutes doing the actual shit. I tossed my paper plates and red cup and wiped my ass. I flushed the toilet and washed my hands with soap. I grabbed my magazine and slept on the couch.
I find taking a shit while eating to be perfectly fine. If you want to say something like "that's disgusting", no, for you homosexuals to be sucking another guy's dick, now that's disgusting. Who the fuck fucking cares? AFTER I fucking finish my sandwich, I'm gonna be wiping my asshole. It's not like I wiped my asshole before making my delicious layered sub. It's not like I wiped my asshole while eating my sub. I like to fucking eat, and I like to fucking shit. Besides, after I wipe my ass and wash my hands, it's the same fucking hands. About shit particles, that shit particles go on your toothbrushes too, so it's fucking fine. Stop being a fucking bitch, okay? I drink my morning coffee on the john every morning. Fuck you, eat a dick, motherfucker!
Shit Stories Vol. 2: Urinal Shit
On January 25, Shit Week 2010 begins. Get ready for five nights of the biggest, most shit-infested articles you've ever seen...
Jones (on the john): This is gonna be a big shit. AARRGH.
Herman Carson and guest columnist Jones Hewitt take you on an adventure across the (toilet) waters.
Herman (wiping his ass): Holy fucking damn it to hell shit on a stick fuck! Fu-fu-fu-fu-fu-fu-fu-fuck!
It all kicks off with an untamed, brand new Shit Story at 9 PM Pacific only on The Trash Blog.
I was doing my laps at the community pool one night, when a bunch of faggots hopped the fence to get in the Jacuzzi. These trash got drunk right away and were being annoying little bitches to everyone else in the pool that night. Those people, who were sick and tired of this shit, got up and out of the pool, showered, got changed in the restroom, and left within the span of 10 minutes. I, however, continued swimming my laps, but I became increasingly annoyed with these fucktards. I decided to give them a little going away present.
I knew the fuckers would have to change in the restroom at one point, so what's more despicable and repulsive then the sight and smell of shit? As I was showering, I thought about possible locations in the restroom where I should lay the bomb. I even considered the plight of the janitor. Should Pedro have to suffer cleaning my act of defiance against faux mental retards? Yes and no. There were greater stakes at risk. Take one for the team, Pedro, and these douchebags will get what they deserve. But you still have to throw away their beer cans. My duty is to make them blind and fuck up their senses of smell and taste. Not my job.
I pushed open the restroom door with my target selected. My shit could not be watered down in the toilet, for the smell would go to waste. My mission was to find a drain with an immediate water source for the sake of Pedro such as the sink...or the urinal. I stuck my ass into the urinal and groaned. I laid a sickly looking piece of shit. It was a very light brown and came out hot, lighting my ass on fire. This was diarrhea flavored without the dehydration. "Perfect," I thought. "That should make it worth their while."
Then it hit me. Like a speeding bus, like a fucking tsunami. Holy fucking damn it to hell shit on a stick fuck! My nostrils had never ever in their lives ever registered a scent like this. It was out of this world, alien shit or some shit. I full on barreled into the stalls, breaking the lock, and grabbed rolls and rolls of toilet paper. "Fu-fu-fu-fu-fu-fu-fu-fuck!" I could not wipe my ass clean for the life of me. The shit had stained my asshole yellow brown. I panicked. I thought I was going to die that night. I couldn't breath. The shit smell was so overwhelming I began to sweat and hyperventilate. I was running out of oxygen. But I was determined to survive this ordeal with a clean ass and not shit in my pants. After jamming 10 handfuls of paper up my ass and a dab of sink water, I finally got my ass clean. Without bothering to pull up my pants, I dived out of the restroom. I ripped those pants up and happily breathed in a relief of fresh, pure, unadulterated air.
I ran behind the bathroom and waited for the dumb shits to enter their doom. While I was waiting, I thought about what had just happened. I didn't know a shit could unleash so much power. There's a reason for toilet water other than flushing shit, and that's to keep the goddamn stank from killing us all. Shit out water is no laughing matter. I'm being really serious right now. You could die. Don't let this happen to you.
I heard the gay ass gangbangers walk into the restroom. I guess they had like T minus 1 second before they experienced excruciating pain. Perhaps they were in shock because I had time to run around back while they were yelling their heads off. "What the f? Oh my God, who the fuck shit in the urinal? Kill me now God! Please..." For good measure, I crushed a few bags of stink bomb and tossed them onto the restroom floor. I slammed the door shut and pulled on the door with all my strength, so they could not get out. They screamed and banged on the door. I laughed manically. They begged for their lives. I finally relented and hauled ass.
Jones (on the john): This is gonna be a big shit. AARRGH.
Herman Carson and guest columnist Jones Hewitt take you on an adventure across the (toilet) waters.
Herman (wiping his ass): Holy fucking damn it to hell shit on a stick fuck! Fu-fu-fu-fu-fu-fu-fu-fuck!
It all kicks off with an untamed, brand new Shit Story at 9 PM Pacific only on The Trash Blog.
I was doing my laps at the community pool one night, when a bunch of faggots hopped the fence to get in the Jacuzzi. These trash got drunk right away and were being annoying little bitches to everyone else in the pool that night. Those people, who were sick and tired of this shit, got up and out of the pool, showered, got changed in the restroom, and left within the span of 10 minutes. I, however, continued swimming my laps, but I became increasingly annoyed with these fucktards. I decided to give them a little going away present.
I knew the fuckers would have to change in the restroom at one point, so what's more despicable and repulsive then the sight and smell of shit? As I was showering, I thought about possible locations in the restroom where I should lay the bomb. I even considered the plight of the janitor. Should Pedro have to suffer cleaning my act of defiance against faux mental retards? Yes and no. There were greater stakes at risk. Take one for the team, Pedro, and these douchebags will get what they deserve. But you still have to throw away their beer cans. My duty is to make them blind and fuck up their senses of smell and taste. Not my job.
I pushed open the restroom door with my target selected. My shit could not be watered down in the toilet, for the smell would go to waste. My mission was to find a drain with an immediate water source for the sake of Pedro such as the sink...or the urinal. I stuck my ass into the urinal and groaned. I laid a sickly looking piece of shit. It was a very light brown and came out hot, lighting my ass on fire. This was diarrhea flavored without the dehydration. "Perfect," I thought. "That should make it worth their while."
Then it hit me. Like a speeding bus, like a fucking tsunami. Holy fucking damn it to hell shit on a stick fuck! My nostrils had never ever in their lives ever registered a scent like this. It was out of this world, alien shit or some shit. I full on barreled into the stalls, breaking the lock, and grabbed rolls and rolls of toilet paper. "Fu-fu-fu-fu-fu-fu-fu-fuck!" I could not wipe my ass clean for the life of me. The shit had stained my asshole yellow brown. I panicked. I thought I was going to die that night. I couldn't breath. The shit smell was so overwhelming I began to sweat and hyperventilate. I was running out of oxygen. But I was determined to survive this ordeal with a clean ass and not shit in my pants. After jamming 10 handfuls of paper up my ass and a dab of sink water, I finally got my ass clean. Without bothering to pull up my pants, I dived out of the restroom. I ripped those pants up and happily breathed in a relief of fresh, pure, unadulterated air.
I ran behind the bathroom and waited for the dumb shits to enter their doom. While I was waiting, I thought about what had just happened. I didn't know a shit could unleash so much power. There's a reason for toilet water other than flushing shit, and that's to keep the goddamn stank from killing us all. Shit out water is no laughing matter. I'm being really serious right now. You could die. Don't let this happen to you.
I heard the gay ass gangbangers walk into the restroom. I guess they had like T minus 1 second before they experienced excruciating pain. Perhaps they were in shock because I had time to run around back while they were yelling their heads off. "What the f? Oh my God, who the fuck shit in the urinal? Kill me now God! Please..." For good measure, I crushed a few bags of stink bomb and tossed them onto the restroom floor. I slammed the door shut and pulled on the door with all my strength, so they could not get out. They screamed and banged on the door. I laughed manically. They begged for their lives. I finally relented and hauled ass.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Shit Week 2010
S | SHITTY
The following segment is rated "S" for Shitty and may contain shit.
[Cue scary music]
"You never know what's happening. You don't know where it's coming from. But all of the sudden it's there. And there's nothing you can do about it."
"We arrived on the first of July. And it all started to go wrong."
[Intense music]
"And there's something terrible about the way they're moving. And Jones is freaking out. And now...I am totally engulfed in panic as well."
"Watch out!"
[Yelp of pain]
"Help! Help me!"
[Scream]
"Herman Carson, and I'm here on the shitter. Whoa I got a great brown hitting me. Here he is."
"When the shit venture away from the shallows to flush, they become the flushed."
"In the daytime we can study shits, but at night, shits are a mystery."
[Uptempo music]
SHIT OUT OF WATER
GREAT BROWN SHIT
DAY OF THE SHIT
SHIT AFTER DARK
SLIDE SHIT SUMMER
[Music fades]
SHIT WEEK
MONDAY 9P
"Shit Week starts Monday at 9. It's all new on The Trash Blog."
The following segment is rated "S" for Shitty and may contain shit.
[Cue scary music]
"You never know what's happening. You don't know where it's coming from. But all of the sudden it's there. And there's nothing you can do about it."
"We arrived on the first of July. And it all started to go wrong."
[Intense music]
"And there's something terrible about the way they're moving. And Jones is freaking out. And now...I am totally engulfed in panic as well."
"Watch out!"
[Yelp of pain]
"Help! Help me!"
[Scream]
"Herman Carson, and I'm here on the shitter. Whoa I got a great brown hitting me. Here he is."
"When the shit venture away from the shallows to flush, they become the flushed."
"In the daytime we can study shits, but at night, shits are a mystery."
[Uptempo music]
SHIT OUT OF WATER
GREAT BROWN SHIT
DAY OF THE SHIT
SHIT AFTER DARK
SLIDE SHIT SUMMER
[Music fades]
SHIT WEEK
MONDAY 9P
"Shit Week starts Monday at 9. It's all new on The Trash Blog."
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Shit Stories Vol. 1: Corn Shit
Every shit has its own story, even if the number two was dropped in your own bathroom. It doesn't matter where the tragedy occurs, whatever transpires becomes an invaluable experience that you will cherish for the rest of your life. I present to you Shit Stories: Cautionary Tales of Defecation Lore...
Ah Fridays. When the clock strikes 3, the weekend officially begins. I don't have to walk the halls of this godforsaken school for two plus days. The walk home from school is long, but Friday afternoons are always more enjoyable. The sun is out as me and my friend Mark, who lives near me, trek off the school grounds toward our neighborhood. I asked Mark, "Are you thirsty?"
Mark replied, "I could use a tasty beverage."
We stopped by a grocery store along the way. I bought a bottle of Pepsi and a bag of barbecue CornNuts. Mark got Pepsi too but opted for a larger after school snack: two pounds of chicken strips and potato wedges. Little did I know, my transaction was going to haunt me.
Mark devoured his food. He was done in about 5 minutes. I on the other hand, took my sweet time by sucking the barbecue seasoning off each and every CornNut and then swallowing. I asked Mark if he wanted to hang out for a while at my place. He agreed and we turned the corner into my cul-de-sac. My intestines turned over. I really had to take a dump. Without saying a word, I sprinted up the court. I could feel the shit poking its head out of my ass. I spotted a hole in the ground on my neighbor's yard. The landscaper was here, probably in the backyard, to plant a tree or some shit. "Ah why the hell not," I thought to myself. I squatted over the hole and strained.
This shit felt weird. As it came out of my ass, I could feel little bumps around my asshole. And it hurt. Something wasn't right. This shit was going to be longer than average, maybe a 6 incher. The turd hit the soil. I pulled up my pants and turned around to see my work.
"What...the...fuck?!"
Those words didn't come out of my mouth. It came out of Mark's. Mark had finally caught up with me just as I was finished turning around. He was looking down inside the hole. He looked up at me and looked down again. I peered down into the hole as well.
"What...the...fuck?!"
This time those were my words. There it was, my mutant turd. I shouldn't have swallowed those CornNuts whole. Because the piece of shit had kernels of corn sticking out of it. Neatly arranged in rows, it was like someone took a corn cob and just dipped it in mud or some shit. With the exception of the one pointy end of the shit, the head, it was a replica of corn on the cob. There's yellow ear of corn, white ear of corn, and now brown ear of corn. And "whoo wee" did it smell like a shit hole. It was a one man shit hole.
Me and Mark laughed and went into my house. A few hours later when Mark had to go home, we walked outside. The landscaper had planted a rose bush in my shit hole. It was a beautiful flower shrub with red petals. The next spring the plant grew tenfold. It was the healthiest rose plant I've ever seen. I picked a few flowers and gave them to a girl. She said they smelled great.
Ah Fridays. When the clock strikes 3, the weekend officially begins. I don't have to walk the halls of this godforsaken school for two plus days. The walk home from school is long, but Friday afternoons are always more enjoyable. The sun is out as me and my friend Mark, who lives near me, trek off the school grounds toward our neighborhood. I asked Mark, "Are you thirsty?"
Mark replied, "I could use a tasty beverage."
We stopped by a grocery store along the way. I bought a bottle of Pepsi and a bag of barbecue CornNuts. Mark got Pepsi too but opted for a larger after school snack: two pounds of chicken strips and potato wedges. Little did I know, my transaction was going to haunt me.
Mark devoured his food. He was done in about 5 minutes. I on the other hand, took my sweet time by sucking the barbecue seasoning off each and every CornNut and then swallowing. I asked Mark if he wanted to hang out for a while at my place. He agreed and we turned the corner into my cul-de-sac. My intestines turned over. I really had to take a dump. Without saying a word, I sprinted up the court. I could feel the shit poking its head out of my ass. I spotted a hole in the ground on my neighbor's yard. The landscaper was here, probably in the backyard, to plant a tree or some shit. "Ah why the hell not," I thought to myself. I squatted over the hole and strained.
This shit felt weird. As it came out of my ass, I could feel little bumps around my asshole. And it hurt. Something wasn't right. This shit was going to be longer than average, maybe a 6 incher. The turd hit the soil. I pulled up my pants and turned around to see my work.
"What...the...fuck?!"
Those words didn't come out of my mouth. It came out of Mark's. Mark had finally caught up with me just as I was finished turning around. He was looking down inside the hole. He looked up at me and looked down again. I peered down into the hole as well.
"What...the...fuck?!"
This time those were my words. There it was, my mutant turd. I shouldn't have swallowed those CornNuts whole. Because the piece of shit had kernels of corn sticking out of it. Neatly arranged in rows, it was like someone took a corn cob and just dipped it in mud or some shit. With the exception of the one pointy end of the shit, the head, it was a replica of corn on the cob. There's yellow ear of corn, white ear of corn, and now brown ear of corn. And "whoo wee" did it smell like a shit hole. It was a one man shit hole.
Me and Mark laughed and went into my house. A few hours later when Mark had to go home, we walked outside. The landscaper had planted a rose bush in my shit hole. It was a beautiful flower shrub with red petals. The next spring the plant grew tenfold. It was the healthiest rose plant I've ever seen. I picked a few flowers and gave them to a girl. She said they smelled great.
Why I Am Vulgar
Why am I vulgar? Why you ask? Well isn't that a stupid fucking question? Why are you a faggot? Why are you mentally retarded? You penis cocktrap, you shitslut. Truth is, I don't give a fuck about you guys. Eat a dick.
Many people ask me to stop being vulgar, complain about my language and how my blog makes them feel like shit. What do I have to say about that? Tell it to someone who fucking cares, you shitstained asshole fuckface. Perhaps my writing becomes un-fucking-readable in some cases, but who gives a shit? This ain't your fucking blog, dick sucking fuckass. Fuck off. You pieces of garbage don't understand my new modern classic literature. I haven't been paid yet so this is like community service for me. If any motherfucker out there should complain, it would be me, but I ain't trippin. This site is my hobby and I find this shit fun. The point of this blog is for you to relax, read, and shut the fuck up. If you don't like it, then go dick around somewhere else and eat shit you piece of shitbitch cockfuck asswipe. Oh yeah, and fuck you God for giving me a fucking C in Psychology, fuck you.
Suck a cock, you ass eating faggots.
......................../´¯/)
.....................,/¯..//
..................../....//
............../´¯/'...'/´¯`·¸
........../'/.../..../......./¨¯\
........('(...´(..´.......,~/'....')
.........\................\/...../
..........''...\............ _.·´
............\..............(
..............\.............\
Many people ask me to stop being vulgar, complain about my language and how my blog makes them feel like shit. What do I have to say about that? Tell it to someone who fucking cares, you shitstained asshole fuckface. Perhaps my writing becomes un-fucking-readable in some cases, but who gives a shit? This ain't your fucking blog, dick sucking fuckass. Fuck off. You pieces of garbage don't understand my new modern classic literature. I haven't been paid yet so this is like community service for me. If any motherfucker out there should complain, it would be me, but I ain't trippin. This site is my hobby and I find this shit fun. The point of this blog is for you to relax, read, and shut the fuck up. If you don't like it, then go dick around somewhere else and eat shit you piece of shitbitch cockfuck asswipe. Oh yeah, and fuck you God for giving me a fucking C in Psychology, fuck you.
Suck a cock, you ass eating faggots.
......................../´¯/)
.....................,/¯..//
..................../....//
............../´¯/'...'/´¯`·¸
........../'/.../..../......./¨¯\
........('(...´(..´.......,~/'....')
.........\................\/...../
..........''...\............ _.·´
............\..............(
..............\.............\
Friday, January 22, 2010
To Catch a Queer
Uhhhhh, cracka you gay.
That's right you gay homo faggot queer. There were three empty seats to my left, in between a girl and me. You don't know her and you don't know me, so sit in the middle. That's the rule. You always leave an empty seat between strangers. Just like you don't sit next to someone on the bus when there are empty seats all over the fucking place. I suppose the lecture hall was filling up, but there were three seats of separation, three! More than enough. If you want to sit next to someone for who knows what reason, sit next to the girl. This ain't a bar, this is a fucking place for intellectuals. So fuck off! You made me feel very uncomfortable back there. I don't appreciate that at all. I have no problems with homosexuals, but this I can't stand for. Man, can you imagine taking it up the ass? I can't. Damn that's disgusting. I'm not homophobic.
That's all for this edition of Mutie Minutes Friday. For Jones Hewitt and all of us at The Trash Blog, good night.
That's right you gay homo faggot queer. There were three empty seats to my left, in between a girl and me. You don't know her and you don't know me, so sit in the middle. That's the rule. You always leave an empty seat between strangers. Just like you don't sit next to someone on the bus when there are empty seats all over the fucking place. I suppose the lecture hall was filling up, but there were three seats of separation, three! More than enough. If you want to sit next to someone for who knows what reason, sit next to the girl. This ain't a bar, this is a fucking place for intellectuals. So fuck off! You made me feel very uncomfortable back there. I don't appreciate that at all. I have no problems with homosexuals, but this I can't stand for. Man, can you imagine taking it up the ass? I can't. Damn that's disgusting. I'm not homophobic.
That's all for this edition of Mutie Minutes Friday. For Jones Hewitt and all of us at The Trash Blog, good night.
Dream No. 5
Wassup bitch? Since it's raining like a fucking dick, I decided to have a "high movie party", where I order pizza from Little Caesars with the new boneless Caesar chicken strips and some good grass I got, pop in a film and watch and shit. Douche thing I did today? I didn't tip the pathetic fuck working there. Rolling the perfect J, I invited my friend Shanya to come over and get high with me. We got hella stoned and she looked through my many DVD's. She saw Deep Blue Sea and she laughed and was like, "Dude...that movie's so old school. Let's watch that shit!" We did. When the movie was over, I felt hella sleepy so I told that bitch to get the fuck off my property. She didn't want to so I told her if she wanted to stay she can fuck off and play my laptop or Xbox or PS3 or Wii or watch cable or some shit, but stay the fuck out of my sight. She agreed and laughed highly. Wanting to only take a small nap, I grabbed a blanket and stipped into my boxers and slept on my Lovesac.
I awoke to find myself on an island. I was still in my boxers. I guess I was a native. On the beach there was a smashed cruise boat and like five passengers. They were all upset or some shit. A captain came to me and said I was out cold for hours. "Fuck you man," I replied, smiling weakly. "What the fuck did you do? Hit an iceberg in the Carribean, you fucking idiot?"
"Actually, you black piece of shit, a shark did it."
I laughed. I looked over and saw someone on the cliffs. They were fighting and one of the guys punched the other off the cliff. I think I knew the puncher, but that wasn't important. The biggest fucking shark I've ever seen in my life promptly jumped out of the water and ate the dude who was screaming as he was dragged into the water. Holy fucking Jesus. Now there's only four of us left. Amongst the us five was a fine ass white bitch with fine titties and her clothes were off. Fucking nice. First plan of action? Get some pussy. Second, get the fuck out of this island. Third plan? Get fucking wasted and forget about all of this. Too long and shit, so I'll abridge the boring parts. Pretty much a 12 minute sex scene with me up in some blonde cunt, bitched out by an old asshole, and being scowled at by the other survival. I got some of what I needed, fuck yourselves. We looked into the water and there was a fucking huge dorsal fin. An airplane tried to come save us and got its shit fucked up cause that shark could fucking jump. A bloody badge washes ashore and the captain became suicidal because his son (the airplane pilot) got eaten so he jumps into the water. The shark grabbed him, tore him to shreds as me and the other dude grabbed his arm and it tore off like a piece of ham. I screamed and the other guy told me to shut the fuck up and started climbing. I did not have time to argue because it was fucking raining, did I forget that? The shark jumped out of the water and mauled the girl. To those who think I gave a shit, I ain't a sucker. I can get a bitch anytime. What it did do, was cause me to literally shit my pants. The guy made it before me to the top, grabbed my hand and helped me up. His backstory was he was some fag who used to deliver pizza who became criminal. He then turned and hit me on the head with a rock. He tried to throw me off the cliff, but I karate chopped him in the neck and kicked him in the shin. I picked him up by the shirt collar and pants and threw him into the water. He held on so I flew in with him. The shark charged at him, tearing him to shreds. The shark looked at me with its black eyes, like saying to me, "It's your turn you asshole bitch". Oh shit.
Then I woke up. Fuck me senseless. I was hella sweaty. I went to take a piss and washed my face. It's still raining like a bitch. I went to the kitchen. Fucking Shanya was there. "What the fuck are you doing here?" I asked. She told me I said she could stay. She saw I had wood. Then I got a blowjob, but I don't recall how or what I said to get that. All's well ends well.
No you fucking asshole faggot motherfucking piece of shitfaced dickfuck. I'm not afraid of sharks in real life, you assfister. Perhaps my dream journal this time isn't clear for you faggots to read, but that's fine cause I remember it like it was with full detail. Who gives a shit about you? I knew I should have learned the first time smoking marijuana before going to bed, but hey, this was actually pretty cool. Go fuck yourself. The moral of my story is after sleeping, always have a bitch around. Then you can get some head after you wake up. Never a dude, you stupid cocklick. I bet you are gay, you stupid shitbitch.
I awoke to find myself on an island. I was still in my boxers. I guess I was a native. On the beach there was a smashed cruise boat and like five passengers. They were all upset or some shit. A captain came to me and said I was out cold for hours. "Fuck you man," I replied, smiling weakly. "What the fuck did you do? Hit an iceberg in the Carribean, you fucking idiot?"
"Actually, you black piece of shit, a shark did it."
I laughed. I looked over and saw someone on the cliffs. They were fighting and one of the guys punched the other off the cliff. I think I knew the puncher, but that wasn't important. The biggest fucking shark I've ever seen in my life promptly jumped out of the water and ate the dude who was screaming as he was dragged into the water. Holy fucking Jesus. Now there's only four of us left. Amongst the us five was a fine ass white bitch with fine titties and her clothes were off. Fucking nice. First plan of action? Get some pussy. Second, get the fuck out of this island. Third plan? Get fucking wasted and forget about all of this. Too long and shit, so I'll abridge the boring parts. Pretty much a 12 minute sex scene with me up in some blonde cunt, bitched out by an old asshole, and being scowled at by the other survival. I got some of what I needed, fuck yourselves. We looked into the water and there was a fucking huge dorsal fin. An airplane tried to come save us and got its shit fucked up cause that shark could fucking jump. A bloody badge washes ashore and the captain became suicidal because his son (the airplane pilot) got eaten so he jumps into the water. The shark grabbed him, tore him to shreds as me and the other dude grabbed his arm and it tore off like a piece of ham. I screamed and the other guy told me to shut the fuck up and started climbing. I did not have time to argue because it was fucking raining, did I forget that? The shark jumped out of the water and mauled the girl. To those who think I gave a shit, I ain't a sucker. I can get a bitch anytime. What it did do, was cause me to literally shit my pants. The guy made it before me to the top, grabbed my hand and helped me up. His backstory was he was some fag who used to deliver pizza who became criminal. He then turned and hit me on the head with a rock. He tried to throw me off the cliff, but I karate chopped him in the neck and kicked him in the shin. I picked him up by the shirt collar and pants and threw him into the water. He held on so I flew in with him. The shark charged at him, tearing him to shreds. The shark looked at me with its black eyes, like saying to me, "It's your turn you asshole bitch". Oh shit.
Then I woke up. Fuck me senseless. I was hella sweaty. I went to take a piss and washed my face. It's still raining like a bitch. I went to the kitchen. Fucking Shanya was there. "What the fuck are you doing here?" I asked. She told me I said she could stay. She saw I had wood. Then I got a blowjob, but I don't recall how or what I said to get that. All's well ends well.
No you fucking asshole faggot motherfucking piece of shitfaced dickfuck. I'm not afraid of sharks in real life, you assfister. Perhaps my dream journal this time isn't clear for you faggots to read, but that's fine cause I remember it like it was with full detail. Who gives a shit about you? I knew I should have learned the first time smoking marijuana before going to bed, but hey, this was actually pretty cool. Go fuck yourself. The moral of my story is after sleeping, always have a bitch around. Then you can get some head after you wake up. Never a dude, you stupid cocklick. I bet you are gay, you stupid shitbitch.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Hella v. Mad
OPENING STATEMENT
MR. CARSON: Thank you, your Honor. May it please the Court.
THE COURT: Counsel.
MR. CARSON: Ladies and gentleman of the jury, fuck New York and New Jersey fuckers and all y'all for making fun of Californians for saying "hella" instead of "hell of". They should shut the fuck up about saying "mad" all the time. That was mad funny. That was mad cool. Sounds hella fucking dumb. Being geographically closer to the United Kingdom really has its impressionable effects. They should start saying more British words like bloody and mum. Fucking limeys, the lot of 'em.
On a related note, fuck Marco Polo for bringing Asian tea to Europe and fucking it up. I just spat out a cup of PG Tips tea. Britain's best my ass. My fucking ass. This shit doesn't taste good at all. Ten Ren beats the shit out of PG Tips any day of the week. Any hour of the day. Any minute of the hour. And Any second of the minute. Capiche? Get that fucking limey tea out of my face.
I rest my case.
MR. CARSON: Thank you, your Honor. May it please the Court.
THE COURT: Counsel.
MR. CARSON: Ladies and gentleman of the jury, fuck New York and New Jersey fuckers and all y'all for making fun of Californians for saying "hella" instead of "hell of". They should shut the fuck up about saying "mad" all the time. That was mad funny. That was mad cool. Sounds hella fucking dumb. Being geographically closer to the United Kingdom really has its impressionable effects. They should start saying more British words like bloody and mum. Fucking limeys, the lot of 'em.
On a related note, fuck Marco Polo for bringing Asian tea to Europe and fucking it up. I just spat out a cup of PG Tips tea. Britain's best my ass. My fucking ass. This shit doesn't taste good at all. Ten Ren beats the shit out of PG Tips any day of the week. Any hour of the day. Any minute of the hour. And Any second of the minute. Capiche? Get that fucking limey tea out of my face.
I rest my case.
Never ever drink yellow Gatorade
I was walking down towards the park, a basketball under my arm when I saw a bottle of Lemon-Lime Gatorade in a crate by the soda machines. I helped myself to it. I wasn't thirsty, so I thought to myself how fucking funny it would be if I took a piss in it and maybe...just maybe, some ignorant retarded fuck would drink out of it. It would be fucking awesome! I opened it...it was sealed. This was a fresh Gatorade! I waterfalled some of it so it wouldn't be full. And then I did the deed. I pissed through a funnel I happened to find on the side of the park so every drop slipped directly into the bottle. No mess and no fuss. Feeling sly, I crept back and sealed the bottle shut. My experiment began!
First I hid the bottle so it would have time for the foam to die down and for the bottle to not be so warm (common sense you piece of shit fuck). Afterwards, bottle in hand, I made it to the basketball courts. I placed the bottle on the bleachers and shot my hoops for a good 45 minutes. I'm the fucking man. I checked my experiment. The foam was not very visible and the bottle was no longer body temperature, but a mild lukewarm. I left the courts, and I saw some weird kids enter. I stopped and pretended to tie my shoelaces when I see from the corner of my eye one of the kids eyeball the Gatorade. What a fucking moron! I knew I had to witness this.
The kid opened the bottle with haste and waterfalled it. He winced when instead of lemon-lime, he got urine flavored taste in his mouth! He swallowed, wiped his face, and spat on the ground. His friends passed the bottle around wondering what the fuck was with his expression. I looked with great pleasure as each and every one of them made an "oh my fucking God I think I'm feeling sick" expression. What fucking retards! I don't care if they autistic or on drugs or some shit. These motherfuckers were just plain dumb, for fucks sake! I held in my laughter as I walked away. Out of earshot, I fucking haven't fucking laughed that fucking hard in a fucking long time. Ah, kids these days. I'm surprised a generation would soon be overrun by assclowns who drink shit they find on the ground. What if there was fucking GHB in there? The worthless pieces of shit would've been out cold. I can't emphasize how retarded people are nowadays.
Moral? Don't fucking drink shit you find on the ground, you fucking ass-whoring dick gleamer. Otherwise shit will happen to your dumbass and you'll deserve it. It's not fucking rocket science, comprende? Nothing more to say, back to your cock duty, you fucking livestock boner.
First I hid the bottle so it would have time for the foam to die down and for the bottle to not be so warm (common sense you piece of shit fuck). Afterwards, bottle in hand, I made it to the basketball courts. I placed the bottle on the bleachers and shot my hoops for a good 45 minutes. I'm the fucking man. I checked my experiment. The foam was not very visible and the bottle was no longer body temperature, but a mild lukewarm. I left the courts, and I saw some weird kids enter. I stopped and pretended to tie my shoelaces when I see from the corner of my eye one of the kids eyeball the Gatorade. What a fucking moron! I knew I had to witness this.
The kid opened the bottle with haste and waterfalled it. He winced when instead of lemon-lime, he got urine flavored taste in his mouth! He swallowed, wiped his face, and spat on the ground. His friends passed the bottle around wondering what the fuck was with his expression. I looked with great pleasure as each and every one of them made an "oh my fucking God I think I'm feeling sick" expression. What fucking retards! I don't care if they autistic or on drugs or some shit. These motherfuckers were just plain dumb, for fucks sake! I held in my laughter as I walked away. Out of earshot, I fucking haven't fucking laughed that fucking hard in a fucking long time. Ah, kids these days. I'm surprised a generation would soon be overrun by assclowns who drink shit they find on the ground. What if there was fucking GHB in there? The worthless pieces of shit would've been out cold. I can't emphasize how retarded people are nowadays.
Moral? Don't fucking drink shit you find on the ground, you fucking ass-whoring dick gleamer. Otherwise shit will happen to your dumbass and you'll deserve it. It's not fucking rocket science, comprende? Nothing more to say, back to your cock duty, you fucking livestock boner.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Racist Asian Commercial
Some of you might not know what 99 Ranch Market (aka Ranch 99) is because most of its stores are located in California and a few other Western states, but all you need to know is that it is an Asian supermarket. That means Asians only. You won't fucking find fucking fried chicken, fucking potato wedges, and fucking potato salad at the fucking deli. No it's fucking unpackaged raw meat and a fucking fresh fish market. You can take your frozen fish and go on and get the hell out of here you little bitch. Ranch 99 is the shit.
To my dismay though, I recently saw a local TV commercial that changed my perception of grocery for gooks forever. They dared to film an entire advertisement featuring solely white people shopping inside the store. White people for fuck's sake! Sure I live in a predominantly white region, but they just shat in the face of the main customer base. We will not take this quietly. I will admit that this commercial will not stop Asians from shopping there, but they couldn't have filmed at least one Oriental? Fuck! Who the fuck hired the advertising agency? You can't get more white people to come buy Asian shit. They have Safeway's, Lucky's, Raley's (all Californian), a whole shit load of American grocery stores. They have Panda Express and its shit Americanized Chinese fast food. No Pocky for them goddammit. Damn I hate when I see white people in a sea of gooks at Ranch 99. You don't belong here obviously, so get the fuck out. That goes the same for you Arabs. For 30 excruciating seconds I was looking for gooks and chinks, and the only Asians I saw were shunted to the side out of focus. Unbelievable and unacceptable. I'm forwarding this to Ranch 99 and the Better Business Bureau. Ranch 99 doesn't care about yellow people.
To my dismay though, I recently saw a local TV commercial that changed my perception of grocery for gooks forever. They dared to film an entire advertisement featuring solely white people shopping inside the store. White people for fuck's sake! Sure I live in a predominantly white region, but they just shat in the face of the main customer base. We will not take this quietly. I will admit that this commercial will not stop Asians from shopping there, but they couldn't have filmed at least one Oriental? Fuck! Who the fuck hired the advertising agency? You can't get more white people to come buy Asian shit. They have Safeway's, Lucky's, Raley's (all Californian), a whole shit load of American grocery stores. They have Panda Express and its shit Americanized Chinese fast food. No Pocky for them goddammit. Damn I hate when I see white people in a sea of gooks at Ranch 99. You don't belong here obviously, so get the fuck out. That goes the same for you Arabs. For 30 excruciating seconds I was looking for gooks and chinks, and the only Asians I saw were shunted to the side out of focus. Unbelievable and unacceptable. I'm forwarding this to Ranch 99 and the Better Business Bureau. Ranch 99 doesn't care about yellow people.
Goddamn you God
Blacky (people who find this name unoriginal can go fuck themselves), this is for you.
Fuck you God, and fuck you PetCo.
Today marks a very sad day for me. My Mexican Black Kingsnake (age 3) died while I was in class. I know this for a fact because it was fine in the morning. I felt sad and thought it was my fault. Until my cell rang from PetCo telling me that their feeder mice were ill and that I should take it to the vet. Well, thanks a fucking lot you shitheads. Fuck you God for making my snake ill. Fuck you God for making the mouse ill. Fuck you PetCo for telling me then. I should have bought my mouse at PetSmart. Way to give customer service, you fucks.
I remember when I was in junior year of high school and I bought the snake with my own money. I remember back when I had a job at Wal-Mart back in NorCal and that snake was two weeks worth of me pushing carts. That snake has been with me through high school and even moved with me here to SoCal. Fuck you God! You tree trunk piece of asshole trash. There better be a God because when I die I'm going to curbstomp his ass until he's paraplegic and retarded, and I'm gonna push him down the stairway of heaven. You asshole, I didn't do shit to deserve it. Do you remember last week when I treated my friend out for lunch? How about when I bought Herman that video game? You faggot shitlick. I ask you once again you pathetic shit, where is my fucking karma? Look at all the good things I've done you prick. People say God can do anything. If that is true, he should literally go fuck himself. You religious fucks shouldn't bother praying for me, you should pray for your shitass God not to meet me when I die. You don't think I can kill you God you son of a bitch? Go jerk off Hitler in Hell, you douche. Fuck you, God.
Fuck you God, and fuck you PetCo.
Today marks a very sad day for me. My Mexican Black Kingsnake (age 3) died while I was in class. I know this for a fact because it was fine in the morning. I felt sad and thought it was my fault. Until my cell rang from PetCo telling me that their feeder mice were ill and that I should take it to the vet. Well, thanks a fucking lot you shitheads. Fuck you God for making my snake ill. Fuck you God for making the mouse ill. Fuck you PetCo for telling me then. I should have bought my mouse at PetSmart. Way to give customer service, you fucks.
I remember when I was in junior year of high school and I bought the snake with my own money. I remember back when I had a job at Wal-Mart back in NorCal and that snake was two weeks worth of me pushing carts. That snake has been with me through high school and even moved with me here to SoCal. Fuck you God! You tree trunk piece of asshole trash. There better be a God because when I die I'm going to curbstomp his ass until he's paraplegic and retarded, and I'm gonna push him down the stairway of heaven. You asshole, I didn't do shit to deserve it. Do you remember last week when I treated my friend out for lunch? How about when I bought Herman that video game? You faggot shitlick. I ask you once again you pathetic shit, where is my fucking karma? Look at all the good things I've done you prick. People say God can do anything. If that is true, he should literally go fuck himself. You religious fucks shouldn't bother praying for me, you should pray for your shitass God not to meet me when I die. You don't think I can kill you God you son of a bitch? Go jerk off Hitler in Hell, you douche. Fuck you, God.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
One More Thing
I have to get this last thing off my chest regarding these YouTube sellouts. Fuck Shane Dawson and fuck Peter Chao for insulting YouTube. Maybe Peter Chao was less subtle than Shane Dawson but still, let me ask this: who the fuck pays them to make these gay ass videos? That's right, YouTube. No hating on the man who created you. I feel like I need to defend YouTube here. They have yet to turn a profit hosting trash et al. and their trash videos, so Shane Dawson and Peter Chao please shut the fuck up. Especially Shane Dawson, a low life who makes a video every fucking day, who went as far as to dedicate a useless piece of shit video that has almost 2 million views just to complain about the supposed hack on YouTube. Thumbnail changes? Really? Shut the fuck up you ungrateful piece of shit. The fucking stand still picture of your video was changed. Holy shit. Oh no, call the cops. A crime was committed here. The only crime I saw was your fucking ugly shit face again you fucking emo faggot. Oh yeah, and stop doing that gay wave you flaming queer.
Now on to Peter Chao. Oh how far you've fallen. Your act is old. It's been old and tired for quite some time, since let's say, you became a fucking sellout. A sellout tells viewers to rate his videos 5 stars. A sellout interacts with viewers in videos. A sellout annotates "YT sucks" on his video just because some people complain of a viewing error. Sure it was a little note, but that doesn't give him any right to say that. You would be nothing without YouTube. Without Mr. Chi City just nothing, trash. You understand you fucking gook? So start being more appreciative of your undeserved well being.
These arrogant pricks are full of themselves, and I know they're not the only ones. By the way, props to Peter Chao for disrespecting his viewers in his latest video. We here at Trash Blog can say we are fans of that. And for dissing Shane Dawson for making too many fucking videos. Ironically that's the same video that caused me to include him in this rant. Aside from the rare brilliance from Peter Chao only nowadays, I'm still calling you out, assholes.
Now on to Peter Chao. Oh how far you've fallen. Your act is old. It's been old and tired for quite some time, since let's say, you became a fucking sellout. A sellout tells viewers to rate his videos 5 stars. A sellout interacts with viewers in videos. A sellout annotates "YT sucks" on his video just because some people complain of a viewing error. Sure it was a little note, but that doesn't give him any right to say that. You would be nothing without YouTube. Without Mr. Chi City just nothing, trash. You understand you fucking gook? So start being more appreciative of your undeserved well being.
These arrogant pricks are full of themselves, and I know they're not the only ones. By the way, props to Peter Chao for disrespecting his viewers in his latest video. We here at Trash Blog can say we are fans of that. And for dissing Shane Dawson for making too many fucking videos. Ironically that's the same video that caused me to include him in this rant. Aside from the rare brilliance from Peter Chao only nowadays, I'm still calling you out, assholes.
Jones' Douche Guide: Being a douche is hard work
This article is special because today, this blog post is not about me being a douche, but more of a how to be a douche. This is a simple step by step process that is relatively easy but a delicate art. Few people can master being a great douche, because with "great douchebagginess comes great responsibility of being an ass." You, my nigga, have an obligation to uphold. As I said, if you don't have the basics, you're a fucking idiot. I'm trying to revolutionize the word douche. The douche and the douchebag are two seperate things. I'm not talking about the douchebag, a sensitive queer white boy with the crooked hat. I'm talking about the self-absorbed asshole who takes shit from nobody. I hope you're taking notes, ya shit.
Requirements for Being a Douche
What, you think douches just grow on trees? You're a fucking idiot! Of course there's requirements. If you do not fall under all of these categories, you cannot be considered a douche! Of course, the gay-straight community is always welcoming newcomers.
Sense of Style: You wanna be a fine example of a douche? You gotta look good, but not gay. Examples to wear are Ed Hardy's, sunglasses, designer shirts, hats. Nothing flamboyant, but enough to let people know, hey, I got money, hey, fuck you!
Pubescent: Sorry, if you haven't gone through puberty, get the fuck out. Nobody wants to hear your squeaky ass voice. Fuck off.
Certain Amount of Toughness: You want to be know as "The Douche", asshole capable of self-defense, not the "Hey Everybody Come Beat Me Up Cause I'm Queer" kid.
You Have Access To Pussy: No puss, no dice. Hand in hand with access to pussy, the capability of getting multiple pussy.
Friends: If you don't have anybody to laugh with, you might as well be a douchebag (not douche)...
Can't Be Scared: Rhetorical question of the day: what's worse...a douche...or a poser of a douche?
If you got all of the above, please proceed to...
Tips: Straight From The Douche's Mouth
Tip # 1: Expand your vocabulary.
Why: Nobody wants to hear the same tired bullshit each and every time. Mix things up. Combine a few insults. I like to consult a thesaurus or a dictionary before hand to think of some great ones.
Tip #2: When in doubt, call someone a faggot.
Why: Nobody likes the word faggot. Even gay people don't like being called faggots even by other homos. At least black people like being called niggers...well, by other niggers.
Tip #3: Don't bring up anybody's momma.
Why: You're not a fucking sitcom or MTV show. You're insulting someone, not telling jokes. When you bring up someone's momma, you end up looking like a clown more than a douche. Remember what I said about douchebaggery being a serious art? Get your shit together, come on.
Tip #4: When you insult someone, say it proudly and confidently, without remorse.
Why: You sound/look/act like a fucking retard or a pussy otherwise. You want to be a douche. Grow a pair, you dick hydrant ass knot.
Tip #5: Be fast on the uptake. Think of a comeback within seconds during and after someone replies back.
Why: See explanation for Tip #4.
Tip #6: Back up your shit when you're being a douche.
Why: Unless you A. know kung fu, B. know a good plastic surgeon, C. are threatening in appearance, or D. all of the above, it is highly recommended for you not to be a douche. If you do not have any of the four options, I hope you are comfortable with a 3rd degree ass whupping. That would shut you up, probably, you shit trap. If you state that you are carrying a weapon, see explanation for Tip #4.
Tip #7: If they come at you, kick their ass, but don't overdo it.
Why: Understandably, in a fight people lose control and overdo it. Need I remind you, you are trying to be a douche, not Hulk Hogan. Just give him a taster or two and go back to calling him a dick head or a shit cavity. Repeat Tip #7 as many times as necessary. This will cause the douchee to yield to your antics.
Tip #8: Have a couple friends/family/witnesses present.
Why: You're not a douche if no one knows about it. You might as well jerk off in your closet or take it up the ass if no one is around. In fact, more often than not, douches are the life of the party.
Tip #9: Practice.
Why: Nobody is perfect in this art. Even I am constantly struggling to be better than I already am. You gotta practice, you stupid cocklick.
Tip #10: Know when to stop.
Why: If you overdo it, no matter how great of a douche you are, there will come a point where you can slowly dedouche yourself instead of crossing the "you're an annoying piece of shit, so your douchebag status is revoked." You don't want that, fuckweed.
After you got down all of that, finally, you must know the...
Ten Commandments of Being a Douche
You're probably wondering what is a Brother Douche? A brother douche is kind of like your wingman/ insurance policy for not being a douchebag. His job is to deliver swift and subtle punishment to you for failure. The best douches are never hit by a brother douche and so people fail to notice them. Real shit. I'll tell you I've punched so many people in the faces for failure, it wasn't pretty. Personally I haven't gotten a facepunch yet, needless to say, I haven't failed being a douche yet.
I hope you learned something you queer faced retarded shit. Fuck you and use these tips I've granted you with style. Now get at 'em, you dickfuck.
Requirements for Being a Douche
What, you think douches just grow on trees? You're a fucking idiot! Of course there's requirements. If you do not fall under all of these categories, you cannot be considered a douche! Of course, the gay-straight community is always welcoming newcomers.
Sense of Style: You wanna be a fine example of a douche? You gotta look good, but not gay. Examples to wear are Ed Hardy's, sunglasses, designer shirts, hats. Nothing flamboyant, but enough to let people know, hey, I got money, hey, fuck you!
Pubescent: Sorry, if you haven't gone through puberty, get the fuck out. Nobody wants to hear your squeaky ass voice. Fuck off.
Certain Amount of Toughness: You want to be know as "The Douche", asshole capable of self-defense, not the "Hey Everybody Come Beat Me Up Cause I'm Queer" kid.
You Have Access To Pussy: No puss, no dice. Hand in hand with access to pussy, the capability of getting multiple pussy.
Friends: If you don't have anybody to laugh with, you might as well be a douchebag (not douche)...
Can't Be Scared: Rhetorical question of the day: what's worse...a douche...or a poser of a douche?
If you got all of the above, please proceed to...
Tips: Straight From The Douche's Mouth
Tip # 1: Expand your vocabulary.
Why: Nobody wants to hear the same tired bullshit each and every time. Mix things up. Combine a few insults. I like to consult a thesaurus or a dictionary before hand to think of some great ones.
Tip #2: When in doubt, call someone a faggot.
Why: Nobody likes the word faggot. Even gay people don't like being called faggots even by other homos. At least black people like being called niggers...well, by other niggers.
Tip #3: Don't bring up anybody's momma.
Why: You're not a fucking sitcom or MTV show. You're insulting someone, not telling jokes. When you bring up someone's momma, you end up looking like a clown more than a douche. Remember what I said about douchebaggery being a serious art? Get your shit together, come on.
Tip #4: When you insult someone, say it proudly and confidently, without remorse.
Why: You sound/look/act like a fucking retard or a pussy otherwise. You want to be a douche. Grow a pair, you dick hydrant ass knot.
Tip #5: Be fast on the uptake. Think of a comeback within seconds during and after someone replies back.
Why: See explanation for Tip #4.
Tip #6: Back up your shit when you're being a douche.
Why: Unless you A. know kung fu, B. know a good plastic surgeon, C. are threatening in appearance, or D. all of the above, it is highly recommended for you not to be a douche. If you do not have any of the four options, I hope you are comfortable with a 3rd degree ass whupping. That would shut you up, probably, you shit trap. If you state that you are carrying a weapon, see explanation for Tip #4.
Tip #7: If they come at you, kick their ass, but don't overdo it.
Why: Understandably, in a fight people lose control and overdo it. Need I remind you, you are trying to be a douche, not Hulk Hogan. Just give him a taster or two and go back to calling him a dick head or a shit cavity. Repeat Tip #7 as many times as necessary. This will cause the douchee to yield to your antics.
Tip #8: Have a couple friends/family/witnesses present.
Why: You're not a douche if no one knows about it. You might as well jerk off in your closet or take it up the ass if no one is around. In fact, more often than not, douches are the life of the party.
Tip #9: Practice.
Why: Nobody is perfect in this art. Even I am constantly struggling to be better than I already am. You gotta practice, you stupid cocklick.
Tip #10: Know when to stop.
Why: If you overdo it, no matter how great of a douche you are, there will come a point where you can slowly dedouche yourself instead of crossing the "you're an annoying piece of shit, so your douchebag status is revoked." You don't want that, fuckweed.
After you got down all of that, finally, you must know the...
Ten Commandments of Being a Douche
- I am not insecure about myself. If other people pressure me to do something, I tell them to fuck off and flip them off with the middle finger.
- I am not only vulgar, but I am proud of it, and I will show this with evident swearing in my speech.
- I will not try too hard to do anything except to break another person's self worth.
- I am not trash. If I am trash I will be subject to #10 instantly.
- I will not wear eyeliner because I am a douche and not a fag.
- I will not take pictures of myself. Nor will I make homosexual looking faces in pictures.
- I know not to wear too much cologne because nobody wants to smell that shit.
- I am a man, and I will act like an average guy. Not some over masculine fuck but not a fairy. By far not a fairy, and definitely I am not a pussy.
- I will beat the shit out of someone who disrespects me and afterwards humiliate them, although I will try to remember #8 in case I lose myself in anger.
- I will be punched multiple times in the face by a Brother Douche if I fail to follow the previous 9. I also understand failure to obey the 10 Commandments I may be considered a douchebag (not a douche, they are two separate beings) or a faggot. Therefore in my path of being a douche I will live up to my name and not fuck up.
You're probably wondering what is a Brother Douche? A brother douche is kind of like your wingman/ insurance policy for not being a douchebag. His job is to deliver swift and subtle punishment to you for failure. The best douches are never hit by a brother douche and so people fail to notice them. Real shit. I'll tell you I've punched so many people in the faces for failure, it wasn't pretty. Personally I haven't gotten a facepunch yet, needless to say, I haven't failed being a douche yet.
I hope you learned something you queer faced retarded shit. Fuck you and use these tips I've granted you with style. Now get at 'em, you dickfuck.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Dick Stroker
Being at the wrong place at the wrong time. How often these unfortunate events occur. Some people say chance--whatever happens, happens. Others say fate. Fuck that. Then explain to me why I'm always wondering "why's this shit always happening to me?" Let's start from the beginning.
I decided to visit my friend over the New Year's weekend in Boston. The exact dates were a given, but the bus times? I had a whole list to choose from. 10 AM from New York on Thursday and 10 AM from Boston on Sunday sounded good. I paid for the tickets, and my schedule was all set and finalized.
I had a nice weekend. 10 AM Sunday, I'm in line waiting to board the bus to go back. That was the plan. But there it was, a shift in the space-time continuum. The bus was fucking late. Fucking Greyhound. I should've stuck with the tried and true Chinatown Bus, even if it could cost me my life. Hell I would risk it over what I had to endure this day. So we depart at 10:30 AM. Whatever, nothing I can do about that. Now here is where it gets complicated.
The bus could've gone slower or preferably faster, made a rest stop, hit another vehicle, I don't give a fuck. Just as long it wasn't at that place at that time. The perpetrator in question could've done the same thing with his car. Rush hour traffic could've slowed either one of the vehicles down. The traffic flow could've prevented the two vehicles from eventually being side to side. If the bus wasn't a charter bus and was lower to the ground like city buses and level with the car, I wouldn't have seen a goddamn thing. If I didn't choose a window seat and opted for the aisle seat instead for my long legs. If I had chosen an earlier or later time to go back. If the fucking bus came on time. If that faggot wasn't such a sick fuck. But no.
He was rubbing his cock to and fro. I didn't believe what I was seeing. I've always heard about people playing around while driving, but never have I ever seen this obscenity in person. I stared too uncomfortably long. It's like you're so shocked you can't look away. Finally after a second or two I gathered myself together and mustered the strength to look away. "Holy shit." I thought to myself. For the longest seconds of my life, the bus and car were side by side. The bus would speed up then slow down. Same with the car. Yo-yoing back and forth at my seat position! The two would just not separate. "Please God. Make this stop," my eyes closed. You think the trash would notice the towering bus next to him. I guess he doesn't care. Well I care. In fact I fucking care.
I know you all want to know, and I'll tell you before you start asking questions. Because after this, I don't want to talk about it anymore. You want the full deets you homos. His pants were down enough to expose his dick but not the sack. From my short glance, it was not hairy down there. It was not erect. However it was a chode.
I was officially scarred. This was a life changing moment. After all is said and done, I only have one thing to say. Keep your snake in its cage for fuck's sake! And fuck you God!
I know you all want to know, and I'll tell you before you start asking questions. Because after this, I don't want to talk about it anymore. You want the full deets you homos. His pants were down enough to expose his dick but not the sack. From my short glance, it was not hairy down there. It was not erect. However it was a chode.
I was officially scarred. This was a life changing moment. After all is said and done, I only have one thing to say. Keep your snake in its cage for fuck's sake! And fuck you God!
Dream No. 4
Who here has played the new Resident Evil 5, the one where you shoot a bunch of amok niggas with parasites exploding out their ass and make them look all silly n' shit? Well, my dream was very relevant I tell you. Now I know you've missed the Dream Journal, and I haven't been posting...well fans...eat a dick. Because there are better things in life than expecting me to update a dream that hasn't happened yet, you stupid fuck. Guess what you dick donor, I'm in fucking college, so I'm not like that fag Shane Dawson who has time to post every fucking day just because I live in my momma's basement. Get it you cock correlator, that I'm busy! I have fucking classes to study for and essays to fucking write. I have a pet snake to feed and pussy to feed my other snake. I have weed to buy and coffee to keep me up at night so I don't sleep on my assignments. And you expect me to keep up on posting dreams I have no time to have? You eat a dick! Now...all's forgiven, check out the dream, you rectum raiding dickfuck.
I just woke up feeling like there was something in my stomach. I payed no attention to it and ate a hearty breakfast. Damn that was a good breakfast. I had myself a bacon, egg and tomato sandwich. It was good, but I couldn't feel myself eating it. I was pissed, cause it was supposed to be good, but I couldn't taste the fucking sandwich. And when I drank water, I could feel the water going down my mouth but not into my stomach. This is some major bullshit! So I sign on The Trash Blog to write a good Fuck You God article about this nonsense. Finishing my post, I had a killer migrane so I went down to see my dealer to buy me some herb. When I walked down the street, my headache got worse, and I fell asleep by the beach. Then my head exploded and some bigass fucking worm/centipede/tentacles/octopus/squid parasite I don't fucking know burst out and made me start eating you worthless piece of shit civilians, which by the way, tasted like TRASH. I'm prolly never getting my head back, go fuck yourselves.
I woke up with my head intact. I went on this site to check out my post. No posts of cursing out the big asshole in the sky (not yet ;D). Then I saw it was Martin Luther King Jr. day. Homeboy's looking out for me. It was a sign to let loose (like I am already doing, fucking dumbass) and play some games. Fuck you.
Moral of my dream? Buy fucking Resident Evil 5, you shit trap. Worth every fucking dollar. Unless you'd rather spend your money on a vibrator for your hairy asshole cause you a homosexual, there's no excuse. I actually got my copy of RE5 for a cheap price from one of my homeboys. Word up. You can buy it up there at the top of the post on Amazon. No excuses, fuck knacker, I expect mass purchase.
I just woke up feeling like there was something in my stomach. I payed no attention to it and ate a hearty breakfast. Damn that was a good breakfast. I had myself a bacon, egg and tomato sandwich. It was good, but I couldn't feel myself eating it. I was pissed, cause it was supposed to be good, but I couldn't taste the fucking sandwich. And when I drank water, I could feel the water going down my mouth but not into my stomach. This is some major bullshit! So I sign on The Trash Blog to write a good Fuck You God article about this nonsense. Finishing my post, I had a killer migrane so I went down to see my dealer to buy me some herb. When I walked down the street, my headache got worse, and I fell asleep by the beach. Then my head exploded and some bigass fucking worm/centipede/tentacles/octopus/squid parasite I don't fucking know burst out and made me start eating you worthless piece of shit civilians, which by the way, tasted like TRASH. I'm prolly never getting my head back, go fuck yourselves.
I woke up with my head intact. I went on this site to check out my post. No posts of cursing out the big asshole in the sky (not yet ;D). Then I saw it was Martin Luther King Jr. day. Homeboy's looking out for me. It was a sign to let loose (like I am already doing, fucking dumbass) and play some games. Fuck you.
Moral of my dream? Buy fucking Resident Evil 5, you shit trap. Worth every fucking dollar. Unless you'd rather spend your money on a vibrator for your hairy asshole cause you a homosexual, there's no excuse. I actually got my copy of RE5 for a cheap price from one of my homeboys. Word up. You can buy it up there at the top of the post on Amazon. No excuses, fuck knacker, I expect mass purchase.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Poll: Favorite Column?
Vote on your favorite column! Which column is the most funny, interesting, and/or cool?
Is it The Trash Blog's signature column Trash Talk at 12 posts?Poll is open for 2 weeks and concludes on Sunday, January 31, 2010 at 11:59 PM PST.
Or is it Herman's made for shit by shit column Shit Talk...Literally at 8 posts?
Or is it Jones' SoCal Shore column I'm a Douche at 5 posts?
Or is it Jones' drug induced coma column Dream Journal at 3 posts?
Or is it atheistically pleasing and newcomer joint column Fuck You God at 3 posts?
Friday, January 15, 2010
Trash Blog Merchandise? You fucking betcha.
In case you were unaware, I didn't only take a class in culinary arts. I attended a class in Art 101 back in 2009.
An astonishing way I plan to kick off 2010 to you unappreciative degenerate fucks is to create some apparel to rep The Trash B10g. That means hats, shirts, sweatshirts, motherfucker, you name it. This project will start whenever I fucking feel like uploading shit on Cafe Press, so don't sweat me, shitbitch. Then you can buy your merchandise (don't be a fucking idiot, of course this is real talk!). I'm going to constantly draw and make new ideas up, so I'll update as soon as I design shit. So hold on to your ass, cause the new merchandise is going to fuck your shit up, clitdick. So in short, buy, support, and help us make money, ya faggot!
Any comments? Fuck off, I'm busy.
An astonishing way I plan to kick off 2010 to you unappreciative degenerate fucks is to create some apparel to rep The Trash B10g. That means hats, shirts, sweatshirts, motherfucker, you name it. This project will start whenever I fucking feel like uploading shit on Cafe Press, so don't sweat me, shitbitch. Then you can buy your merchandise (don't be a fucking idiot, of course this is real talk!). I'm going to constantly draw and make new ideas up, so I'll update as soon as I design shit. So hold on to your ass, cause the new merchandise is going to fuck your shit up, clitdick. So in short, buy, support, and help us make money, ya faggot!
Any comments? Fuck off, I'm busy.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Shit Stories Preview
Herman Carson presents Shit Stories: Cautionary Tales of Defecation Lore, a tentative 9 10 part mini-series brought to you by Shit Talk...Literally. These are just short summaries. There's a whole lot more to these stories.
Volume 1: Corn Shit
Synopsis: I bought a bag of barbecue CornNuts, sucked the tasty seasoning off the corn, and swallowed them whole. I had to take a dump real bad and promptly squatted over a hole in the ground. The turd slid right out of my ass and was peppered with corn kernels as if the corn was still on the cob (corn on the crap).
Volume 2: Urinal Shit
Synopsis: Leaving your shit out is a classical prank. I took a dump in a urinal for the enjoyment of others. Big mistake. I almost suffocated to death in the process. There's a good reason why shit is submerged in water. Shit out of water is fatal.
Volume 3: Slide Shit
Synopsis: I learned about the physics of shit when I shat down a slide. An average turd is relatively hard and doesn't stick at all. The shit slipped down the spiral slide with no traces of feces. Maybe it was because I lubricated the slide with piss first. Some kid's going to get fucked over sliding into a pile of shit.
Volume 4: Burger King Utah Shit
Synopsis: A Triple Whopper (and 42 fluid ounces of Coca-Cola) condemned me to the Burger King restroom. I sat on the toilet for some time before I felt something coming down. I was also feeling a little gaseous, so I prepared to cough to cover up the possibility of a thumper. Boom goes the dynamite. The echo in the restroom made it seem a lot worse. I heard people running for the exit.
Volume 5: Bus Shit
Synopsis: Big B! For once a story not about me doing the shitting. Big Beaner the Mexican took a shit in the back of the tour bus restroom. You know you don't shit in bus restrooms because there's virtually no ventilation. All the gooks (Asians don't like Mexicans as well as blacks) on the tour were riled up because the stank almost killed us.
Volume 6: Park Shit
Synopsis: I took a shit on the floor of a public restroom in a park because the one stall was fucking nasty inside. I slapped on some latex gloves, grabbed my shit, and threw it on the wall. Then I smeared it all over. Never shitting there again.
Volume 7: Sidewalk Shit
Synopsis: I shat on the sidewalk before Jones (Being black, he was late.) was going to pick me up. There was no restroom in the vicinity, and no bushes. For good measure, I found a teddy bear on someone's lawn and shoved it face first into the steaming pile of shit. For good measure, I also took a leak on it.
Volume 8: Creek Shit
Synopsis: I had some deteriorating shit in a creek. I took a stick and poked it. The turd instantly crumbled. Later I forgot about the ordeal and drank from a water fountain that came from that creek. Fuck me.
Volume 9: Sink Shit
Synopsis: I hated my high school, so what better way to leave a lasting impression than by shitting in a sink. Using a urinal divider for stability, I hoisted myself on top of the sink and squatted. I promptly ripped a grumpy. After lunch, some bitch came crying into the classroom straight from the restroom. The whole class got up to investigate and so did the teacher. Truth be told they were not pleased.
Volume 10: Dorm Shit
Synopsis: I dropped a bomb in my floor's bathroom. After I wiped and didn't flush, I opened the stall door. Because the bathroom only had one toilet, my fellow floormate had no choice but to go in. He entered, backed out, and grimaced. Turning to me he said, "Dude, that's fucking disgusting," and went back in.
When I conclude this mini-series, there will be a poll to vote on your favorite Shit Story!
Volume 1: Corn Shit
Synopsis: I bought a bag of barbecue CornNuts, sucked the tasty seasoning off the corn, and swallowed them whole. I had to take a dump real bad and promptly squatted over a hole in the ground. The turd slid right out of my ass and was peppered with corn kernels as if the corn was still on the cob (corn on the crap).
Volume 2: Urinal Shit
Synopsis: Leaving your shit out is a classical prank. I took a dump in a urinal for the enjoyment of others. Big mistake. I almost suffocated to death in the process. There's a good reason why shit is submerged in water. Shit out of water is fatal.
Volume 3: Slide Shit
Synopsis: I learned about the physics of shit when I shat down a slide. An average turd is relatively hard and doesn't stick at all. The shit slipped down the spiral slide with no traces of feces. Maybe it was because I lubricated the slide with piss first. Some kid's going to get fucked over sliding into a pile of shit.
Volume 4: Burger King Utah Shit
Synopsis: A Triple Whopper (and 42 fluid ounces of Coca-Cola) condemned me to the Burger King restroom. I sat on the toilet for some time before I felt something coming down. I was also feeling a little gaseous, so I prepared to cough to cover up the possibility of a thumper. Boom goes the dynamite. The echo in the restroom made it seem a lot worse. I heard people running for the exit.
Volume 5: Bus Shit
Synopsis: Big B! For once a story not about me doing the shitting. Big Beaner the Mexican took a shit in the back of the tour bus restroom. You know you don't shit in bus restrooms because there's virtually no ventilation. All the gooks (Asians don't like Mexicans as well as blacks) on the tour were riled up because the stank almost killed us.
Volume 6: Park Shit
Synopsis: I took a shit on the floor of a public restroom in a park because the one stall was fucking nasty inside. I slapped on some latex gloves, grabbed my shit, and threw it on the wall. Then I smeared it all over. Never shitting there again.
Volume 7: Sidewalk Shit
Synopsis: I shat on the sidewalk before Jones (Being black, he was late.) was going to pick me up. There was no restroom in the vicinity, and no bushes. For good measure, I found a teddy bear on someone's lawn and shoved it face first into the steaming pile of shit. For good measure, I also took a leak on it.
Volume 8: Creek Shit
Synopsis: I had some deteriorating shit in a creek. I took a stick and poked it. The turd instantly crumbled. Later I forgot about the ordeal and drank from a water fountain that came from that creek. Fuck me.
Volume 9: Sink Shit
Synopsis: I hated my high school, so what better way to leave a lasting impression than by shitting in a sink. Using a urinal divider for stability, I hoisted myself on top of the sink and squatted. I promptly ripped a grumpy. After lunch, some bitch came crying into the classroom straight from the restroom. The whole class got up to investigate and so did the teacher. Truth be told they were not pleased.
Volume 10: Dorm Shit
Synopsis: I dropped a bomb in my floor's bathroom. After I wiped and didn't flush, I opened the stall door. Because the bathroom only had one toilet, my fellow floormate had no choice but to go in. He entered, backed out, and grimaced. Turning to me he said, "Dude, that's fucking disgusting," and went back in.
When I conclude this mini-series, there will be a poll to vote on your favorite Shit Story!
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Taking a piss
Today I was taking a leak in a public bathroom, as groty as it sounds. Main idea: urinate and get the fuck out of there. It was dirtier than a shack in Africa, and believe me, I've seen how dirty they can get (never actually been there). As I unraveled my zipper, a douchebag walks in and takes the urinal right next to me. It's a big bathroom...what the fuck are you doing? There's no reason for you to be next to me. Thoughts raced in my head: Dick cheese, do you fucking mind? Can you fucking not? There's a bunch of free stalls you asswipe. Ever thought of how others feel about personal space, you cocklick? It's not o-fucking-kay to take a stall next to another guy when there are available urinals. That's the golden rule. Know it. Respect it. Do it. You wanna go take a piss next to another dude? They have places for that. Prisons.
Then this worthless piece of trash tries to strike a conversation while I'm trying to fucking take a piss. Now when a person is in the bathroom, that is like an unspoken "do not fucking disturb" sign being posted. Strangers do not piss and talk next to each other. Hell, friends don't even talk and piss next to each other. This guy has clearly got issues. The more this faggot tried finding common ground, the more I wanted to punch his face in. I finished up and left the bathroom and he yelled for me to "wash my hands". Fuck you. I don't need to wash my hands after taking a piss. First off, the bathroom door was open. Number two, the dick skin and the skin on your hands are the same skin. When you go camping and take a piss in the woods, do you wash your hands? Nah, nah, nigga, you don't. If it was taking a shit and washing your hands, I would understand. That makes sense. That fly with me. But washing your hands after taking a piss? Nah, nah.
Maybe next time, I should go take a piss before I leave my apartment. Maybe next time, I would take a toilet stall instead of a urinal, so no ass tyrants would find a place next to me. Maybe next time, I can just change urinals while I'm pissing to get away from some chatterbox queer. Maybe next time, I'll fucking pull a nonhomosexual R-Kelly and give the next asshole a golden shower. Who knows, maybe next time, I'll quickly finish up, kick you in your testicles as hard as I can, laugh at you and call you a queer. Story concludes with me telling that chickenshit jizz fetcher to go eat a dick. People these days are fucking weird. Just a quick question: How many of you assclowns actually take the urinal directly next to another shitstained fuckhead? Unless you collect sperm with your ass, the correct answer is NO.
Then this worthless piece of trash tries to strike a conversation while I'm trying to fucking take a piss. Now when a person is in the bathroom, that is like an unspoken "do not fucking disturb" sign being posted. Strangers do not piss and talk next to each other. Hell, friends don't even talk and piss next to each other. This guy has clearly got issues. The more this faggot tried finding common ground, the more I wanted to punch his face in. I finished up and left the bathroom and he yelled for me to "wash my hands". Fuck you. I don't need to wash my hands after taking a piss. First off, the bathroom door was open. Number two, the dick skin and the skin on your hands are the same skin. When you go camping and take a piss in the woods, do you wash your hands? Nah, nah, nigga, you don't. If it was taking a shit and washing your hands, I would understand. That makes sense. That fly with me. But washing your hands after taking a piss? Nah, nah.
Maybe next time, I should go take a piss before I leave my apartment. Maybe next time, I would take a toilet stall instead of a urinal, so no ass tyrants would find a place next to me. Maybe next time, I can just change urinals while I'm pissing to get away from some chatterbox queer. Maybe next time, I'll fucking pull a nonhomosexual R-Kelly and give the next asshole a golden shower. Who knows, maybe next time, I'll quickly finish up, kick you in your testicles as hard as I can, laugh at you and call you a queer. Story concludes with me telling that chickenshit jizz fetcher to go eat a dick. People these days are fucking weird. Just a quick question: How many of you assclowns actually take the urinal directly next to another shitstained fuckhead? Unless you collect sperm with your ass, the correct answer is NO.
Muties: A Mutist Perspective
The word "mutie" stems from the name given to the X-Men from the X-Men comics. Mutie as in mutant, which is what the X-Men are because they are mutated beings. I was playing the Nintendo GameCube Player's Choice X-Men Legends and always heard a particularly funny line whenever I entered battle. "Think you're bad mutie?" Ever since I heard that, I've been using the word repeatedly in daily life to describe anyone.
Now what defines a mutie or mutant outside of fantasy? In my mind, it's a person who deviates from society's perception of the perfect human being. You an obese fatty? You a mutie. Because the ideal body is thin (but not anorexic). Not fat on top of fat on top of fat. I don't like seeing rolls of fat and fat asses overflowing seats. You a paraplegic or quadriplegic? You a mutie. Why? It's obvious. You're missing a goddamn body part for chrissakes. Any noticeable deformities on another person that make your corresponding body parts feel weird? You a mutie. I'm talking about amputated body parts, extra appendages or the lack of, 3 nipples, etc. So anything abnormal is mutie.
How about the deaf and the blind? No physical deformities. I can tolerate that, but you're still a mutie. The blind with the white in the eyes. Holy shit, you're a zombie mutie. Mute (That's convenient as you will later see)? Don't open your mouth if you have a cut-off tongue please. Otherwise, it's all good.
Here's a freebie, an easy one, a colored person. A white person (not a mutie under this category) is like a canvas. You black (sorry Jones), you a mutie. I'm half gook, so yes, I'm a mutie. If you're not Caucasian, you're a mutie. To sum it up, if you Bob Ross ("Ah what the heck. Little more black, little more yellow.") that clean slate, you a mutie.
Here's such a touchy subject, I'm going to dedicate a paragraph to retards. Some muties don't deserve this kind of respect. Fuck me. Mentally retarded muties are to look at let alone deal with. Bottom line, you fucked up in the head? You a mutie. I don't want you to talk or move. Actually I would rather just not have to look at you. Never seen one before? Stand in front of a mirror (You really need to see this from your perspective). Bend your arm at the elbow and hold it vertical. Hold your hand under your chin, and your arm should touch your chest. Now bend your hand forward so that your palm is facing down. Now do some lazy/crazy eyes, stick your tongue out, and fidget. Make some moaning noises. Voila! Mutie. See this Peter Chao video for more details. Man, imagine having that permanently. Sucks to be you.
Last but very far from least, homosexuals. Let's get straight to the point. How the fuck you going to make babies? Penis plus asshole does not equal babies! Tax dollars to support sexual education wasted because of the faggot in the back of the classroom. No reproduction, no good. Hence mutie. Fuck me up the asshole if the last 2 people on Earth were a gay man and a gay woman. But you can't, ha! Cause I'm dead, and also therefore being deceased, I wouldn't give two shits either. Yeah you get that dick away from me.
If you don't like what I'm saying, I just say shame on you. You know you're a fucking hypocrite. You know you don't like muties. Here's a little questionnaire to shatter your mind. Enlighten yourself. Think of a person who could mug you. Is he black? Don't lie. Damn right he was black as ace of spades. Think of someone who does high school lunch time clean up duty? Wow, you thought of the whole, entire special education class? Me too. Think of someone who works at McDonald's (not me you trash). Does he do you garden too? Yup, you a mutist.
If you don't fit the mute (Even shorter for mutie. Write it down. 1/14/2010 I penned it.) description above, you are still a mutie. You're a mutie for reading this blog. Congratulations, you fall under the trash category. But don't stop reading The Trash Blog (no shame). There's a little mutie in all of us, but some mutes are just more mutie than others. Words of advice to the muties who are less fortunate than others? I don't want to see your ugly ass, so beat it.
Now what defines a mutie or mutant outside of fantasy? In my mind, it's a person who deviates from society's perception of the perfect human being. You an obese fatty? You a mutie. Because the ideal body is thin (but not anorexic). Not fat on top of fat on top of fat. I don't like seeing rolls of fat and fat asses overflowing seats. You a paraplegic or quadriplegic? You a mutie. Why? It's obvious. You're missing a goddamn body part for chrissakes. Any noticeable deformities on another person that make your corresponding body parts feel weird? You a mutie. I'm talking about amputated body parts, extra appendages or the lack of, 3 nipples, etc. So anything abnormal is mutie.
How about the deaf and the blind? No physical deformities. I can tolerate that, but you're still a mutie. The blind with the white in the eyes. Holy shit, you're a zombie mutie. Mute (That's convenient as you will later see)? Don't open your mouth if you have a cut-off tongue please. Otherwise, it's all good.
Here's a freebie, an easy one, a colored person. A white person (not a mutie under this category) is like a canvas. You black (sorry Jones), you a mutie. I'm half gook, so yes, I'm a mutie. If you're not Caucasian, you're a mutie. To sum it up, if you Bob Ross ("Ah what the heck. Little more black, little more yellow.") that clean slate, you a mutie.
Here's such a touchy subject, I'm going to dedicate a paragraph to retards. Some muties don't deserve this kind of respect. Fuck me. Mentally retarded muties are to look at let alone deal with. Bottom line, you fucked up in the head? You a mutie. I don't want you to talk or move. Actually I would rather just not have to look at you. Never seen one before? Stand in front of a mirror (You really need to see this from your perspective). Bend your arm at the elbow and hold it vertical. Hold your hand under your chin, and your arm should touch your chest. Now bend your hand forward so that your palm is facing down. Now do some lazy/crazy eyes, stick your tongue out, and fidget. Make some moaning noises. Voila! Mutie. See this Peter Chao video for more details. Man, imagine having that permanently. Sucks to be you.
Last but very far from least, homosexuals. Let's get straight to the point. How the fuck you going to make babies? Penis plus asshole does not equal babies! Tax dollars to support sexual education wasted because of the faggot in the back of the classroom. No reproduction, no good. Hence mutie. Fuck me up the asshole if the last 2 people on Earth were a gay man and a gay woman. But you can't, ha! Cause I'm dead, and also therefore being deceased, I wouldn't give two shits either. Yeah you get that dick away from me.
If you don't like what I'm saying, I just say shame on you. You know you're a fucking hypocrite. You know you don't like muties. Here's a little questionnaire to shatter your mind. Enlighten yourself. Think of a person who could mug you. Is he black? Don't lie. Damn right he was black as ace of spades. Think of someone who does high school lunch time clean up duty? Wow, you thought of the whole, entire special education class? Me too. Think of someone who works at McDonald's (not me you trash). Does he do you garden too? Yup, you a mutist.
If you don't fit the mute (Even shorter for mutie. Write it down. 1/14/2010 I penned it.) description above, you are still a mutie. You're a mutie for reading this blog. Congratulations, you fall under the trash category. But don't stop reading The Trash Blog (no shame). There's a little mutie in all of us, but some mutes are just more mutie than others. Words of advice to the muties who are less fortunate than others? I don't want to see your ugly ass, so beat it.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
YouTube Sellouts
What are YouTube sellouts? They were formerly normal, mundane people. Just like me. The average working American. And as soon as someone thought their videos were marginally entertaining, they wanted to do it big. That personal connection you made when you saw their very first video was lost. You can recall that awkward timidness. Now all they care about is getting subscribers or selling t-shirts. The commercialization of the once innocent.
I will comment on some select all time most subscribed channels on YouTube as of today because they are mostly sellouts. I don't watch these channels on a regular basis, but being that they are the most popular on YouTube, it is assured I will come across their videos eventually. I hope this doesn't make me gay.
nigahiga YouTube's all time most subscribed channel. Not a sellout but still a speech slurring gook.
Fred Fucking faggot retard because his videos are not funny and are trash.
smosh Textbook sellouts who capitalized on their popularity.
ShaneDawsonTV Subscription and merchandise whore. Also fugly. Really unbearable to look at.
kevjumba Sold out to the man, JC Penney or some shit, once. Is a gook but speaks like a white man.
ShaneDawsonTV2 2 channels. Twice as gay.
WHATTHEBUCKSHOW Has been asking for subscribers from day 1.
communitychannel Not a sellout. I don't like this viewer communication going on. Australian accents are really unbearable. Also shut the fuck up bitch and show us your tits. Otherwise stop wearing those low cut shirts.
HappySlip I just don't get the subscriber angle. Is to drive more traffic to increase earnings or is it really because you want to remind your devoted viewers you have a new video?
boburnham Debut video was a classic. Now pimps out merchandise.
NeilCicierega Not a sellout. By the way, no one gives a shit about your other videos. More Potter Puppet Pals and less trash.
pyrobooby Which brings me to Peter Chao. There's some anger behind this post. Warranted annoyance. Gook dissed our shout-out. Strike 1. Asks for subscribers and interacts with viewers by telling them to leave comments. Strike 2 and 3. Trash. I berieved in you man.
I'm really happy for you all, but I still don't like you for selling out. I guess this is the only thing you know how to do because it's obvious you had nothing to do before. That's why you made these videos. I don't like these viewer feedback interactions. Maybe I just want you to fuck off of your own video so I can enjoy your goddamn video. Also what the fuck is up with all these gooks on YouTube? Whites are a given, but where's the Mr. Chi City's? Actually I don't mind. I support gooks on YouTube, but I don't support the fact that they're sellouts.
Even after all this, I'm going to be a hypocrite if this blog hits mainstream, and I won't give a fuck about what anyone thinks. Everyone can eat a dick for all I care. I just want to make money. I said that from the start, so I always was a sellout. I didn't become one. That's worse. Thing is it's okay for me to trash these YouTube sellouts now, but when I sell out, it's okay. Good talking.
I will comment on some select all time most subscribed channels on YouTube as of today because they are mostly sellouts. I don't watch these channels on a regular basis, but being that they are the most popular on YouTube, it is assured I will come across their videos eventually. I hope this doesn't make me gay.
nigahiga YouTube's all time most subscribed channel. Not a sellout but still a speech slurring gook.
Fred Fucking faggot retard because his videos are not funny and are trash.
smosh Textbook sellouts who capitalized on their popularity.
ShaneDawsonTV Subscription and merchandise whore. Also fugly. Really unbearable to look at.
kevjumba Sold out to the man, JC Penney or some shit, once. Is a gook but speaks like a white man.
ShaneDawsonTV2 2 channels. Twice as gay.
WHATTHEBUCKSHOW Has been asking for subscribers from day 1.
communitychannel Not a sellout. I don't like this viewer communication going on. Australian accents are really unbearable. Also shut the fuck up bitch and show us your tits. Otherwise stop wearing those low cut shirts.
HappySlip I just don't get the subscriber angle. Is to drive more traffic to increase earnings or is it really because you want to remind your devoted viewers you have a new video?
boburnham Debut video was a classic. Now pimps out merchandise.
NeilCicierega Not a sellout. By the way, no one gives a shit about your other videos. More Potter Puppet Pals and less trash.
pyrobooby Which brings me to Peter Chao. There's some anger behind this post. Warranted annoyance. Gook dissed our shout-out. Strike 1. Asks for subscribers and interacts with viewers by telling them to leave comments. Strike 2 and 3. Trash. I berieved in you man.
I'm really happy for you all, but I still don't like you for selling out. I guess this is the only thing you know how to do because it's obvious you had nothing to do before. That's why you made these videos. I don't like these viewer feedback interactions. Maybe I just want you to fuck off of your own video so I can enjoy your goddamn video. Also what the fuck is up with all these gooks on YouTube? Whites are a given, but where's the Mr. Chi City's? Actually I don't mind. I support gooks on YouTube, but I don't support the fact that they're sellouts.
Even after all this, I'm going to be a hypocrite if this blog hits mainstream, and I won't give a fuck about what anyone thinks. Everyone can eat a dick for all I care. I just want to make money. I said that from the start, so I always was a sellout. I didn't become one. That's worse. Thing is it's okay for me to trash these YouTube sellouts now, but when I sell out, it's okay. Good talking.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
