A Messed World In Which We Live

Howdy, Readers. There’s a lot going on in the news lately about Haiti. I’m not sure which avenue to explore. I can’t decide if I want to talk about the humongous death toll, about the hard time people are having getting aid to those in need, or how fucking insane Pat Robertson is, so I’m going to write about Netflix.

I recently signed up to Netflix because I thought it would be convenient, but the pressure started almost instantly. I never imagined what a headache it would be to try to pick what movies I wanted in my queue. But that’s because I have commitment issues. I don’t even like to make plans to go to my mom’s for Sunday dinner and we live together.

And if I may, what the HELL is a queue? This is America! Speak American! I was just talking to some bobby about that a fortnight ago when I bumbled down to the shop to pick up a bog roll. The bloke and I were in total agreement.

Moving along, I ended up totally blanking on what to put on my LIST. But since it is an unlimited plan, I guess it doesn’t really matter that I dropped the ball and ended up ordering From Justin to Kelly, Who’s Your Caddy, and Schindler’s List.

Yeah, yeah, I know what you’re thinking, and I agree. That is why I bumped Schindler’s List and replaced it with Superbabies: Baby Geniuses 2.

The one great thing about Netflix is that even though I have to wait two days for my DVDs to arrive, it is still much quicker than the guy behind the counter at Blockbuster.

For one blog a month, I will now be choosing a movie that I would never think to watch and write about it. I am looking very forward to this undertaking. The first movie that I will be choosing is either Santa with Muscles (which is the story of an evil millionaire (Hulk Hogan) who gets amnesia and then believes that he is Santa Claus) or Jaws. The decision will be tough.

And on a serious note, things are pretty horrible in Haiti right now. So, please do what you can to help out. $10 goes a long way.

Next time: Whatever I feel like, dammit.

What I Did on My Winter Break

Howdy, readers. I feel like it has been a long time since we have seen one another. Here’s hoping that everyone had a good New Year’s (except for you, Chuck Marshall. You know what you did… Yes you do!). A lot of people have been curious as to what I have been up to since The Notorious Jumping Blog (ß Hey, I just got my blog mentioned in print. Awesome.) took its winter break. Well…

The first thing I did was set out to carve a nativity scene out of a single block of wood for my grandkids. Whittling is not as easy as everyone thinks it is. It seems like everywhere I go, people are always like, “Yeah, whittling is easy. What do you want me to whittle? A horse, a bird, a real-working car battery?”

Well, I’m here to tell you that whittling is not as easy as all those people make it seem. So, don’t be chagrined if you are unable to whittle a goat, an elephant, or Werner Von Braun. Don’t be discouraged if you are unable to carve a fish, a lobster, or Ben Bernanke. I wouldn’t lose any sleep if I couldn’t carve a train, a plane, or Donovan McNabb. My point is that whittling isn’t easy.

So, I bought a wooden nativity set on Ebay for my grandkids. The problem is that I don’t have grandkids yet. I was going to wait until I did, but I got VERY impatient. So, I did what anyone in my position would do—I invented a time machine. Well, technically, I whittled it.

As you are aware, there are many problems that time travel can pose. For example, if you go back in time and give your grandpa a hand job it could result in a huge financial crisis in 2009. Sorry everyone :(

I went into the future and let me tell you, there are a lot of lies being bandied about. For example, people don’t wear silver jumpsuits and there aren’t flying cars. However, all cars are silver and there are flying jumpsuits. Which I’m assuming could happen if you kiss-punch your grandma. Sorry again everyone :(

As you could imagine, with all the cars being silver, people are always like, “Crap. Which one of these cars is mine? Oh well, good thing I have a flying suit.” Then they punch themselves in the crotch to activate their suits, and off they fly.

I found my grandkids and presented them with their wooden nativity set. They were so excited. They kept saying, “感谢祖父!”(Sorry for the spoiler ).

Then they took the nativity scene and threw it into a futuristic furnace (of course, to them it is a presentistic furnace). It turns out that in the future, energy comes from wooden nativity sets. Grandpa Dan, scores the winning Emanuel Lewis-mas present (sorry for the spoiler again).

After that I decided that no one should possess the capability to alter time. So, I went back to the present to destroy the time machine, but not before I travelled back to the 1970’s to kill Chuck Marshall.

Never heard of him? Well that’s because I took care of him before he could unleash his plan for world domination. Let me just say this, by comparison he made Hitler look like a kitten… that really hated Jews.

Next time: My favorite country is Qatar, because it is one of the few “Q” words that say, “Fuck U.”

My Bucket List

Hello, readers. Welcome to another Jumping Blog. A lot of times when I go to funerals, people usually say to me, “It should be you in that coffin”—I’m pretty sure they mean it, but I just chuckle politely anyway.

This got me thinking about my life and what I would still like to do with my time on this planet. So, here is my bucket list:

10. Kill a deer with my bare hands.

9. Catch a bullet between my teeth.

8. Spend the rest of my life trying to make amends for killing that deer with my bare hands.

7. Learn to braid a black girl’s hair.

6. Write a book… about a guy who kills a deer with his bare hands, and then spends the rest of his life trying to make amends for killing that deer with my his bare hands.

5. Make my own bread.

4. Raise the young of the deer that I kill with my bare hands as my own.

3. Think of something for number 3 on my bucket list.

2. Reuse a joke already on my bucket list.

1. See The Bucket List to make sure that I am doing this right.

Note: #7 and #2 can officially be crossed off.

Next time: Sorry. I thought that was MY vagina.

I was wr...

So here’s the thing, people do not like to be wrong. Saying, “I was wrong” is almost as hard as trying to say, “Unique New York” five times (go ahead, I’ll wait). Told ya.

Being wrong is hard because you know that you secretly think you are the leader of your friends and as such you can’t afford to be wrong. Because of that we run the risk of situations such as this:

“Where are the paper towels?”

“In the cabinet above the sink.”

“No they aren’t.”

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE.”

Just ask Julius Caesar how making enemies like that worked out for him. Oh wait, you can’t, because his enemies killed him. Just like having to take a crap right after showering, those types of situations can get messy fast.

Here’s the thing people, we can’t be right about everything. But rather than choosing our battles we just plow right through trying to convince people we are right—no matter what the cost. Take this example that I found myself in the middle of last weekend.

“I’m telling you, you can microwave tin foil in my microwave and nothing bad happens.”

“No you can’t.”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU BELIEVE ME? NOW I HAVE TO STAB YOU IN YOUR FUCKING FACE.”

Stuff like that just ends so badly. You end up lying to your friends and they end up getting face blood all the kitchen.

Not to mention, it is strange the lies that people will tell just so that they won’t be found out as being wrong.

For example, I had a friend that supposedly was an expert on all things Iceland (I know, I know, who doesn’t). So naturally I talked to her before I headed there for my vacation last year. But when I got there, I didn’t see one single unicorn living in a candy castle anywhere. NOT A SINGLE ONE. Just like someone slapping you on the butt to tell you you’ve done a good and accidentally popping the giant zit on your ass, it is painful when a close friend lies to you.

And the bad thing is that no one is exempt from this. Not you, not me, and not my three-handed proctologist.

And just like yet another simile involving the rectal area, I have to ask, would this world be a better place if people could admit they were wrong? I think so, but I could be wrong. This world WOULD definitely be a better place if people could admit when they are wrong.

Next Time: Proctologists DON’T have three hands! And other times it is appropriate to use exclamation marks.

Just a Thought

As I sit at my computer, I think about the ton of schoolwork I had this past week, the ton more I have this week, and how I’ve been trying to quit fucking swearing—ah shit.

And that brings to mind an interesting thought. Why is swearing a bad thing? Why is it bad to say, “Oh man, I just shit my pants…again?”

Why is it a bad thing to give a woman roses while saying, “These are for you cunt?” I mean it is quite obvious that you aren’t mad at the woman (you’re giving the bitch a goddamn bouquet of fucking roses). I mean c’mon.

Why is it okay to ask the mailman if he wants a blowjob, but bad to ask him if you can suck his dick?

I just don’t get this hypocrisy bullshit. We need to stop being a bunch of pussies.

Do any of you motherfuckers wonder about the origins of these words? Well I do, cocksucker. So without further ado:

(Drum roll please)

I couldn’t find any reason why these specific words are considered to be bad or vulgar. It could be because they’re not. So, express yourself however you want and watch those motherfuckers shit bricks when you bitch slap their cocks.

Next time: Shit, piss, fuck, cunt, cocksucker, motherfucker, and tits.

This Korean Day in History (2004)

I was going to write a piece about Valerie Bertinelli, but I figured that you readers already know all there is to know about her. So without further ado:

오하이오 추첨은 2004년 11월 8일 동안 열거한다. 만일 당신이 생각해 보면, 전에 5 년에서 이기는 수는 여기 있다: 정오 후비는 물건 3:8 - 0-5 정오 후비는 물건 4:4 - 1-1-8 후비는 물건 3:8 - 6-1 후비는 물건 4:8 - 0-7-7 회전 현금 5:6 - 15-20-26-39

Next time: Beyonce Knowles의 유령은 도서관에 있다.

Strong With The Blog, This One Is

Hey readers,

I'm trying something a little different this week--A video blog. Less reading. More watching.

Next Time: Open mouth insert...