http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_d7tKsre8EQ


dear mother of God fuck my life what is this

had to turn it off at about 1 minute 40

Life with the Russian Mafia

Sorry I haven't updated in so long. My waking hours have been consumed mostly becoming further entangled within a sure-to-fail imitation crab-meat smuggling scheme.
I had offshore connects through my Russian friend, Vlad, and they were importing ungodly amounts of imitation crab meat but had nowhere to store it. I have been involved in helping them acquire fake boat docking lisences and rental trucks to move the meat to safe houses.
The transport and distribution center is more or less located in my basement.
Day and night my house is abuzz with Russian gang members involved in a complicated and shoddy, $16 million dollar operation.
I am being kept well fed and happy for my contributions to the organization.

I have the RIGHT to use my house as I see fit, even if it's against the law.

I am the picture of American Health and should serve as an inspiration to all.

I have taken great strides to improving my health and quality of life. A great decision has been made, as if God was channeling his desires for my life to improve right through my body.

But before I get into my plans for improving my health and well being so that someday I may grace the cover of Muscle&Fitness, I must declare victory in the long struggle against the switchover to digital cable. As I mentioned before, my RIGHT to watch television was in jeopardy of being infringed upon, but the Great Civil Rights Leaders of our time have stepped up in the face of adversity like Abraham Lincoln did to Robert E. Lee when General Grant was trying to impose a Communist Agenda upon our Great Nation with all of its freedoms, stimulus checks, and fine American products (including but not limited to chips, free-toh pies, NASCAR, cheetohs and double bacon cheeseburgers). Congress has delayed the switchover for at least another 6 months and this will surely give me ample time to buy my conversion box from WALLMART. I estimate it to be between a 6-18 hour journey to the WALLMART to procure my cable box, but assuming I pack between 3-5lbs of food and am not accosted by any bums, I should be fine.

I would now like to take this time to discuss what is one of Philadelphia's most rampant and terrifying problems, bordering on an epidemic. It is not drugs or violent crime. No, certainly not. As you may know, drugs and guns are part of the American DREAM, so I would never dream of taking the time to portray them in a negative light. I shudder to think that the RIGHT to OWN A GUN and commit violent crimes is being contravened.

No. The problem I am talking about is raccoons. Raccoons are perhaps the biggest threat to man in America these days. With their filthy habits, disease carrying attitudes and the general shame they are the largest pest known to man. They inhabit my backyard in ungodly large groups to eat my food scraps, trash and engage in sinful mating rituals.

The police have intruded on my RIGHTS and told me to remove the foul smelling trash from my backyard but I have ignored their requests and believed they were infringing on my Constitutional Rights. However, something must be done. Action must be taken and I demand that the government do something about the raccoon problem in my back yard. It would have been possible to take care of the trash had I done so at an early stage, but unfortunately the problem has snowballed out of control and I feel as if even my efforts to remove the raccoons from my backyard will end in failure. A few trucks and a dozen or so workers should be able to get rid of the trash, capture all the racoons and replant the dead grass that has resulted from the rubbish sitting stagnant for so long.

The only thing that can take my mind off the circus in my backyard (I can hear the creatures now, scratchy and growling, fighting over chicken bones and stale pork rinds) is the new Aston Martin V12 Vantage. This beheamoth and fantastic feat of engineering can only be described as orgasmic. I am nursing a semi right now just thinking about the opportunity to drive it. Perhaps my friend Vlad will have the proper connections to get me a chance to drive one. Sheer magnificence eminates from every body panel and to hear the 6 liter V12 that pumps out 510 bhp is to hear the voice of the British God himself.

THE RIGHT TO WATCH TELEVISION

I can feel the grip of the great government of America tightening on my oversized, chubby throat.
They are trying to revoke my American Right to watch television.
The switch to digital cable is a terribly confusing and overwhelming matter. It is causing me great stress and increasing my chances of getting diabetes. If I end up with diabetes someday, it will be the fault of my favorite of all government's then.
I understand that we are supposed to get a cable box or a voucher that costs $40 or is free. I am not sure. You can tell that I am in a state of confusion and disillusion.
The switch to digital cable has been planned for years and will finally happen in less than 2 weeks. That is, unless Congress chooses to delay it. I am thinking of contacting my state representative. I certainly need more time. Why would they do such a horrible thing to begin with? I demand that they drop off a digital conversion box at my house.

Now I understand that they have been advertising and explaining the concept for a long time, and all I have to do is make a wheezing, exhausting, 6 hour journey to the WALMART and get a digital receiver and it's not costing me anything, but the point is that IT'S THREATENING MY RIGHT TO WATCH TV. I have way better things to do, like eat rotisserie chickens and meat pies, and I still insist that it's a terribly confusing process.

Super Bowl 43 was an INSULT to proper NFL

As I have mentioned previously, the Super Bowl is by far the greatest holiday in the history of all mankind. I can say with great certainty that my personal Super Bowl experience was far superior to that of anyone else.
I had not been outside for 2 days so it was more than a great surprise to find that I had not sorted my mail from Friday and I had more than a few epic pieces of mail to sort out. First, the new Victoria's Secret. It is the Swim 2009 issue highlighting the wonderfully skimpy bathing suits that makes my large heart swell and palpitate and my man parts stiffen like lumber. I cradled the magazine and made a b-line straight back to my bedroom to have a private session with my new found catalog and best friend. However problems quickly arose when I realized there was no tissue paper near my bedside. I was aghast with terror and almost in anaphylactic shock from the thought of having to re-tie the waist strap on my grease stained navy blue sweatpants and make a wheezing 5 minute journey down the hall to procure a few squares of toilet paper for my private enterprises.
As I made my way down the hall I felt my face turn red and a warmth spread over my entire body. The warm sensation made my hands clench and my blood pressure spike. My legs felt tense and all of the colorful bathing suits, the images of tiny g-strings and perfectly shaped breasts hugged by glorious Victoria's Secret bathing suits flashed through my mind. The perfect models were my true objects of desire at that moment, more than any food no matter how deep fried or scrumptious it was. I grabbed against the wall and let out a moan and with that, I no longer had to go to the bathroom to procure the toilet paper. I felt a sense of relief that I had a satisfying experience without having to actually do work. My sweatpants were ruined for the day, but I had other pairs.
I was now relaxed enough to concentrate on getting my foods ready for the big game. I unwrapped my cheese trays and began boiling water for my canned cheeseburgers. I began to arrange my mozzarella, fried mushrooms and roasted peppers on my party size tray and I ate an entire pizza while doing so. I placed the MOUNTAIN DEW on ice and preheated the oven for my cheesesteak strombolis. My couch had never looked so inviting after the nearly impossible 10 minute task of unwrapping my food trays and preparing them for consumption.
The pregame Super Bowl shows I found boring and lacking insight. The endless drawl coming from the pregame host's mouths was nearly intolerable, so I started doubling up and eating twice as fast. This caused a shock to my system which caused me to black out a few times, and pass out just once or twice, but I drank a few dozen glasses of Mountain Dew which would sharpen up my concentration just in time for the game.
Personally I was hoping to see the wonderful Arizona Cardinals win the game because I have more than a few gripes with the horrible and primordial city of Pittsburgh. The quarterback for the Steelers has far too many letters in his last name and Troy Polamalu really needs to cut that silly, mangy warrior hairstyle that he so proudly sports. Santonio Holmes is slow and has poor hand eye coordination and Hines Ward has laughable skills at best. Bryan McFadden can only be described as asinine and James Harrison is a witless mongoloid.
Now if you want to hear about some true American heros, let's examine the Arizona Cardinals. Kurt Warner is the epitome of an American Hero. He is more grizzled and experienced than a firefighter with the strength of two Peyton Mannings. I once read that Warner hit himself in his own dick with a hammer on purpose. Now THAT, ladies and gentleman, takes true courage and American spirit. Take Larry Fitzgerald; faster than a cheetah but with the grace and style of a panther. Is there a more pefect name is all of sports than Anquan Boldin? I get chills just thinking about it. Anquan. Boldin. BOLDin. Here's another American hero for you: Edgerrin James. Need I go on? Let's recap, Arizona Cardinals: most perfect team in all of sports. Pittsburgh Steelers: clearly lacking in skills and prolificness.

Now I have made it a central theme to talking about American freedom on my greatest of blogs. There is no reason to make an exception when talking about the SuperBowl and the referees. We are living in a land where freedom is king of course. The referees are entitled to make their calls as they see fit and keep the game of football organized and fair. However, it seems to be a problem, perhaps even unconstitutional, when the referees knowingly and purposely make blatant horrible one-sided calls. I felt as if the Cardinals were being discriminated against in the most holy arena in all of sports. It was a travesty that the referees threw flags at nearly every opportunity that by my calculations were clearly benefiting the Steelers and punishing the Cardinals for no reason. I have started a draft to the Commissioner of American Football describing my distaste and anger and outlining a set of policies that should be enacted to keep the game fair as well as a list of people who should be fired for botching up too many calls in Super Bowl 43.
It was a shameful that the Cardinals lost, but I do not feel any more anger. What is done is done, except for that which is done and can be changed. There is no reason that Super Bowl 43 should not be played again under more fair conditions, perhaps in the state of Arizona where the weather is more suitable to the game and the fans aren't a bunch of rabid, foaming pathetic Pittsburgh, unPatriotic third generation immigrants.

My food was hot and delicious, and quite honestly, very distracting. I tried to focus as much energy as I could on the game, but who can when I had deep fried mushrooms, pizzas, FREE-TOH pies, various PIES and cheesesteak strombolis? I consumed enough sodium that day to kill a sheep.

Molestation at McDonalds: A Horror Story

My day had a startling awakening. I found it to be an almost incomprehensibly frigid 55 degrees Farenheight in my fantastic and legendary apartment. In addition, to my dismay, I could not locate my favorite Argyle patterned cotton wool mixture heavy duty MADE IN AMERICA winter socks. AND I was hungry. Such a ghastly tragedy at such an early hour (11:35 am Eastern). I am not sure I could fathom a more frustrating opening sequence to the legendary narrative that was my life. Thoughts started to concoct in my thick head that today could already be perhaps shaping to be the worst of my entire life.

Then the really absurd started to happen. Fast forward to me standing in line, just properly queuing at McDonalds discussing the finer aspects of religion with a complete religious enthusiast. He was wearing some type of silly head gear (a fez I believe they're called).
I barked at him "Religion in a morel travesty, dangerous, and a complete insult to logic and, moreoever, proper decency and good taste. Shame on you Sir. Do not babble nonsense rhetoric about Jesus coming to save me! If God truly existed, then why were my socks misplaced JUST this morning?" My mind began to wander. I was becoming heated and I was beginning to forget what I was going to order. My eyes raced across the bright glows of the McDonalds menu with it's tempting reds and yellows, scrumptous looking egg sandwiches and glistening bacon, dripping with temptation of the highest form.

The religious man shut up for a change and I was now reciting my order over and over in my head. I imagined exactly how the food should look when it is served to me. Everything should be neat and precise. Like it looks in the advertisement. I began to shudder at the the thought of a misarranged platter or subpar food when I was hastily accosted by a mentally ill crackhead. He was an African American man, so filthy and stink ridden that it made it impossible to guess his age. A blue jumpsuit adorned his feeble body and hunched posture.

"Hands off me at once you filthy mouthbreather! I should have you arrested for battery this instant!" I bellowed at him. Half of the restaurant was now focusing a portion of their weak attention spans on me. I was staring at the bum with revulsion boring straight into his glazed over eyes.

"C'mon man, I'm homeless and hungry. Lemme get a dollar for a hamburger. C'mon mayne" he pleaded. He then embraced me and drooled on my shoulder. I was shocked and angry all at once, disgusted and furious. I felt emotion well inside of me.
"You IMBECILE! You have slobbered on me in your rhapsody at the thought of food! Control yourself and do not touch me! I will now inform the management of this transgression and your fate is soon to be sealed. You shall be banned from this establishment all together." I now began swearing and demanding the attention of the ladies behind the counter.
"You FOOLS, have you not just witnessed the crackhead drooling on me? Get me a napkin at ONCE! Hurry, I must wipe the spit off my jacket! It might be contaminated with AIDS!" They instructed me to procure a napkin from the area adjacent to the soda filling station.

Needless to say, I lost my position in line. The bum began to make his way towards the door with a look of sorrow and regret to his face. Then in the next instant, I presume because of his mental incapacity to remain calm, he snapped. He shouted "FUCK YOUUU FATTY" very loudly and stormed out of the restaurant.

Now perhaps screaming at the ghetto trashbag for drooling on my favorite jacket was a little unnecessary and rude, especially in a fine dining establishment such as McDonalds, but for him to call me FATTY in front of everyone is just as rude and uncalled for. Normally, I would defend anyones RIGHT to say anything they want anywhere, as freedom of speech is protected by the First Amendment, and we are living in AMERICA after all. But to call me fat, well that's just his stupid opinion, and his stupid opinion is wrong at that. Therefore it's a lie, and I don't think lying is allowed in this great nation of ours. In addition, I believe that homeless people aren't protected under the Constitution (it's been a while since I've read it. It's not like I'm some brown nose politician who keeps a copy on his or her desk. gufflol).

I can't help it if my presence is too much for one to bear. If I eat too much, or talk too loudly in the middle of a movie, well SORRRRY. Sometimes I forget that I live in the land of the FREE, and I'm not allowed to excersize my RIGHTS inside of a movie theater. Why not just lock me up in Guantanamo Bay for being a terrorist. I'll eat my cheesesteaks, french fries, mountain dew, free-tohs and ice cream in a movie theater if I so please, and if you don't like my talking, well then you can get out of my country.

I am an extremely talented and well liked person and honestly can't risk contracting AIDS from a bum who molests me and pleads for my change. I've got too much going for me right now. I'm going to catch my big break soon, I know it. I guess it wasn't the worst day ever, but it was pretty god damn close.

Oh, and the picture is unrelated to story, although I did masturbate it to it. It's an Audi R8.

What does the SuperBowl and Canned Cheeseburgers have in common?

Everyone knows that the Super Bowl is the greatest event and holiday of the year. It is highly regarded around the world and will hopefully break 100 million viewers this year. Kurt Warner and Ben Roethlisberger are both true, grisly American heros and the Cheeseburger Man approves of them.
More importantly the era of the Super Bowl has marked the epoch of American consumption. The Super Bowl has come to stand for so much more than just the championship of American Football. It has become an epitome of American culture and lifestyle, and for this reason, I absolutely adore the Super Bowl. A historic battle takes place on sacred turf while 90 million people sit on their couch, laugh at over the top commercials for Campbells Soup, Budweiser, Pizza Hut, TD Waterhouse and various American full size pickup trucks. We gorge ourselves to capacity with food, which I embarassingly confess to my audience is my favorite aspect of all.
Many have sent me emails asking for my God-like perspective on what I will be eating for the Super Bowl. I am an honest and humble man, and am not 100% in love with the idea of revealing to my audience my plans for my schmorgazboard of food delights that I will be furiously devouring with great passion, but I am giddy with excitement at the thought and cannot help myself. I am so very much better than you in every way, and my Super Bowl food will trounce yours by a long shot.
I plan on having at least 50 buffalo wings. There will be at least four types of flavourful sauces with which to envelop the tender chicken wings, including Ranch, bbq, bleu cheese, and nacho cheese. I will also have a massive 3cc, 10 gauge syringe on hand with which to inject cheese into the wings with. Besides the nacho cheese, there will be melted pepperjack. There will be 9 different flavours of DORITOS, including some out-of-production retro flavors, such as Taco (which hails from the early 70s) and "All American Classic", which is in fact a cheeseburger flavored Dorito chip.
Speaking of cheeseburgers, I have made a great discovery on the internets; cheeseburger in a can. This remarkable invention is the greatest of the decade, and I have placed an order for 3 cases for my Super Bowl celebration. Of course, I will not eat all of them in one day, but I will definitely try. Obviously their canned nature makes them suitable for later consumption. The cooking process for Canned Cheeseburger is extrodinary and wonderfully appetizing. You simply boil water in a pot and cook the can for 10 minutes before opening and feasting on its contents. I have not figured out how to cook it medium rare though, this will take some reseach. It is a German product, and I'm more than confident that it will be more scumptious than the 2008 BMW M5 Touring.
I have my doubts that they might not have enough cheese, so I will also have Kraft singles on hand (for emergency). To compliment the canned Cheeseburger, I will have hand cut Oreada Freedom Fries, topped with melted provolone, Old Bay Seasonings, vinegar, and mayonaise. There will also be beer battered onion rings, torilla chips with spinach cheese dip, chili dip and roasted artichoke salsa.
For my second course, I am preparing lamb and chicken kabobs; American style. I will neatly arrange succulent chunks of lamb, chicken and vegetables onto skewers then inject them with cheese and deep fry them. This will bring me into halftime. I have contacted Olive Garden for my third course which will hopefully arrive during the break of the football game. They are delivering a party size tray of spaghetti in a white wine scallop and clam sauce. I am currently in the process of developing a Freetoh plate in which to serve my pasta on, so that once I have eaten my share of pasta, I can enjoy eating the greasy, scallop flavored Freetoh plate afterwards. I am experimenting with crushing Freetohs and mixing them with pork fat at different termperatures before forming them into a plate, and I feel as if I am on the verge of a breakthrough.
My drink of choice for the football game will of course be Pepsi. Perhaps to celebrate the special occasion (Super Bowl is only once a year after all) I will most likely be adding sugar to my Pepsi so it can get that thickened molasses-like consistency that nature seemed to forget when making PEPSI.
To summarize: wake up morning of Super Bowl and start pounding buffalo wings like it's my last meal. Chase with Doritos and squirt hot cheese into my mouth with a syringe. Boil 8 liters of water and cook a dozen canned cheeseburgers. Deep fry lamb, pork and chicken (all injected with cheese). Free-toh plates and scallop pasta for dinner. Fall into a 2 day slumber because my heart will probably be slowed to a crawl after the 350 grams of fat, 8000 mg of sodium and 10,500 empty calories I have just eaten. CAN'T WAIT FOR THE SUPERBOWL.