Wednesday, July 25, 2007

Myth Bust

The other day I'm minding my own business, just pumping some gas, and talking on my cellphone when this huge dykotron starts yapping at me from the opposite pump. So I cover the receiver.

Yeah, miss. I'm trying to have a conversation here if you hadn't noticed.

Well apparently that was the problem. She starts rattling off some shit about how talking on the phone at a gas station can blow us all up. By this point theres another heifer mooing in my ear about the risks.

I'll have to call you back.

I hang up and turn to the cunts.

What? Explain this to me. Somehow the cell phone is supposed to give off a spark which by the way it never has. Not to me and I've never heard of anyone dropping their phone cuz it zaps them nor have I ever seen a warning: phone may electrocute you. Use at own risk. But lets say somehow it did. Then what? The current goes through my body, through the hose, and into the tank and blamo? Gimme a break.

They start yammering on about a bunch of bullshit "I heard" "Theres been reports." Blah blah blah, and all I could think of was that scene in Thank You For Smoking. You know the one:

My mom says second hand smoke kills.
Well is your mom a doctor?...Well she doesn't sound like a credible expert does she?

Except more like this:

Listen. Whats your name?
Vicky.
Okay Vicky, what do you do?
I'm a secretary at-
Okay. So what do you know about electricity-magnetism and heat dynamics? Nothing. Exactly. And in fact judging by your line of work you probably don't know much about anything besides bitching people like me cuz its the highlight of your miserable day. All I'm trying to say is that you have to question things. What if I told you that your jumbo size vibrator might explode and blow apart your already gapping vagina. Would you stop using it? Of course not. Cuz you haven't seen a dick since college when a frat boy slapped you across the face with his and said "Who is your daddy and what does he do?" in a
Schwarzenegger voice. And unless you want the event recreated right here and right now then get the hell out of my face.

I'd send an email to mythbusters but i mean its just too stupid. Whats Adam gonna do? Stand at a pump with a phone in his hand for four days realizing nothing is going to happen? Hell he could drop the phone in the gas tank and shit wouldn't happen besides the phone breaking.And maybe the car. So instead I'm just gonna call Discovery Channel or TLC and pitch them a new show. Future Weapons Housewife Encounters. Basically the guy on Future Weapons gives me all the guns from his show. Then I just go about my day and when I come into an encounter with one of these housewives about some insanely dumb shit (which is at least once or twice a week) it would play out like this:

Stupid Housewife: Excuse me, sir.
Me: What?
Stupid Housewife: Well, you see this is the express line, sir. Twelve items or less, and you clearly have thirteen.
Me: I have two. Learn to count.
Stupid Housewife: Well actually thats a twelve pack of coke. And then the gum. That makes thirteen.
Tracey the Cashier: Mam the 12 pack is considered one item.
Stupid Housewife: I want to speak to the manager then. Where's the manager?
Tracey: But mam. It's no-
Me: Tracey. Here. Let me take care of this.

At which point I would take out whatever gun Future Weapons had supplied me with that year and shred the dumb bitch in two. Then I'd turn to the camera:

You see how fast I shredded her? Though the new M16 offers the same great power theres virtually no recoil. Did you see how little my arm moved Tracey?
I...uh...I...was...uh
I know. Fascinating, huh? And remember audience. When dealing with a housewife or whatever its always good to put two in the skull just to make sure. Wouldn't want this bitch to wake up in a hospital and be given a chance to have more fucktard children. Well, see you guys next week on Future Weapons Housewife Encounters when we go to the country club pool with the newest in biological weapons from Korea.

You'd watch that, right?

The Rowling Rollaids

Guinness Book of World Records Update 1 (07/22/07):

Book sale record for single weekend- shattered by J.K. Rowling for her work called Harry Potter and the Deathly Shallows.

Guinness Book of World Records Update 2 (07/22/07):

Longest shit ever taken by human being- In June of 1997 J.K. Rowling started up a hot steamy one with the release of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. In July 2007 the ten year defecation finally ended with the release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows.  The previous record  belonged to  Jasper Collons of Alaska USA. Rowling demolished his record of two hours and nine minutes by 9 years, 364 days, and 22 hours. When asked what she'll do with the ten thousand dollar prize money for the new record Rowling replied, "...well thats why I asked for cash specifically. So that I could wipe my ass with it, you see? Or at least the patches my publicists haven't licked up already."

Rowling actually goes into more detail about the shit itself in her new book. If you carefully peel away the back panel of the latest novel you should reveal the hidden "Post Epilogue." If you do not want to ruin your copy the last paragraph has been recited here for your convenience. Rowling writes:

"...So you see, dear fans, like any long shit getting it all started was the hard part. Sorcerer's Stone was the one I really had to strain my abdomen and flex my ass muscles for. That was the real doozey but then after that came the smooth liquid shit that just shoots out as the stinky gas escapes. Those were probably books 2-4. But then theres that slow down. Where you just sit there and wait for that second wave. This in the series is where I started to run out of ideas and both literally and figuratively I had to start pulling stuff out of parts of my ass I didn't know existed. And then book 7 was all cleanup. I just peeled it off the hairs of my ass. Dingle berries mostly is what book 7 is. But man did I have to scrape to fill up those 700 and whatever pages to show that "I still cared." I scraped so much and so hard I left a vile, hemorrhaging bum scar. (See, I told you it'd be the last word. Tah Tah Fucktards.)

J.K. has one last alliteration for her fans: The Rowling Rollaids - its when no amount of TUMS or Rollaids or Peptobismol is gonna stop you from being on that toilet all night.