welcome back to your weekly edition of passive aggresive violence towards all the little things in life. there's always the question of who/what is worthy of the this honorable stick beating. that leggy blonde you smiled at the crosswalk yesterday who didn't return the favor. you had broccoli in your teeth, you pissrope. she is not worthy of the beating, but your lack of oral hygiene certainly is. that sandwich you ordered the other day where the salami was dry and they put yellow mustard on instead of the dijon you clearly wrote down on your order. abso-pop tart-fucking-lutely. wear that inadequately prepared deli sando out with your hate welded kendo stick. so now that these biased lines are clearly drawn, let justice be served.
left hand turns- are you fucking kidding me? how is anyone suppose to travel in this world when left hand turns are hindering us from returning movies and obtaining coffee. there's certain streets i just completely avoid knowing that ill be sitting there with my head on a swivel praying that a loving god is initializing a red light 2 miles away. and there's always someone behind you geting irritated that you're too much of a yeast infection to shoot that gap inbetween suv's that would of resulted in massive vehicle carnage. would it be too much for you to install a stop light? four way stop? drawbridge? the real problem here is americas lack of flying cars. at least hummer is still manufacturing non-flying new vehicles. hawk fuckers.
ingrown pubic hairs- are you gay if you're a male who shaves his pubes? yes, yes you are. unless you're attempting to compensate for a very unimpressive penis, which i am. keeping the hedges trimmed adds 30% to your size. its fact. not medical fact but fact all the same. the issue though is ingrown hairs. they are the pain equivalent of placing your balls hot plate and smashing them with a croquet mallet while viewing zach braffs performance in "the ex". when it comes to sexy time with a lady its just a lost cause. is it a zit? a cyst? a boil? lets just call it what it really is, a "there's no chance in hell that this broad is going to give you head freckle". FACED! this kendo sticks for you ingrown pubic hair. grow outwards instead of inwards. stop copying my emotional growth. FACED! another kendo stick for charles grodin wasting his genius on the movie "the ex". you're better than that charlie. now go make beethoven 8.
halloween parties- my goodness you suck. its bad enough this pagan festival is celebrated with more enthiusiasm than some of the less renowned holidays like "arbor day" or "national drink a handle of gin and vomit in your neighbors driveway day". but its the costumes that kill me. why is it every girl uses this as an excuse to be a sexy "insert random character here". oh you're a sexy bumble bee? a sexy nurse? no, you're a slut who doesn't have the confidence to wear fitting clothes the other 364 days a year. why can't guys get away with this. hey, look at me! I'm a sexy rapist. I'm a sexy blow job recipient enthiusiast. what are you? I'm a sexy narcoleptic with obsessive compulsive disorder and no job. for some reason it doesn't work the same, and that's just sexist, not sexy. and when you're at a halloween party, odds are you're on a massive reeses peanut butter cup high and a flask of whiskey deep. my vision is already foggy so how am i suppose to know if the sexy girl scout I'm dancing with is even sexy? you don't. it can translate into an awkward november 1st when the sexy hooker you took home actually turns out to be a hooker. lets just hope shell accept payment in hersheys minatures and loose candy corn. i dressed up as a lebanese discotech owner. nothing sexy about that. FACED! to hell with you halloween, see you next year in my sexy condom costume you hen-dicked holiday.
happy kendo stick thursday kids!
Showing posts with label kendo stick thursday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kendo stick thursday. Show all posts
Friday, November 14, 2008
Thursday, January 24, 2008
who gets the kendo stick...
well, i have a semi valid excuse for lack of updates this week. ive been in and out of the hospital battling would-be aneurysms, brain swelling, meningitis, polio, ice cream headache, belspalsy, tennis elbow, elephantitis of the nut sack and blindness (and by blindness i mean severe coolness). however, through the heavy intravenous rush of painkillers ive been receiving it was brought to my attention that it is indeed kendo stick thursday. so heres my hospital/amazing how pathetic health care in america/why isnt there a single hot asian nurse edition of "who gets the kendo stick"
my brain- what the fuck is your problem? you like swelling like my junk in 9th grade math class huh? you like causing me pain equivalent to dane cook stand up? if you werent so evolutionally well protected in my skull i would toss you in front of a handsome cab and let the horse poop on you. and you know what? i dont care if this is being written by you. you think youre so badass because you control every functioning part of my body. you god complex having cocksucker. if youre so damn cool how about you control your swelling and protein output. FACED! this kendo sticks for you panther-fucker.
the cat scan machine- you know why you suck? because when i was carted into to see you i thought you were a time machine. you had all these cool lights and were making all these bitchin noises like "zeeee", "zerdleooo" and "tookle". i was so stoked, i asked the nurse to turn the settings to December 25th 1986. that was the xmas i got my first star wars action figure. i was going to go into the past, unwrap the gift, look my father square in the eye and say "so, are you making it a point that i never get laid? get me a fucking football old man and teach me how to tackle and nail cheerleaders". but no, cat scan machine didnt do any of that shit. it just continued to make cool noises and mock my un-athletic brain. but before i even take the first kendo swipe at you, you heartless non time traveling, built by the lowest bidder, plastic dream raper, im taking a swipe at the technician operating this piece of shit. he was wearing a "drowning pool" shirt under his scrubs, drowning pool fucking swallows. and im shocked to see that they used the drowning pool classic, "let the bodies hit the floor" for the new RAMBO trailer. fuck, everyone and everything is getting the kendo stick in the cat scan room.
my spinal tap- i dont think pain matters anymore, because the spinal tap stole any pure or untainted thoughts i had left. a three inch needle into my fucking spine!!! then slowly let fluids drip out of said needle!!! from this day forward i will never get a boner while spooning a girl again.
various amounts of painkillers ive been on for the past few days- just kidding, i love you guys. if i wasnt already an alcoholic i would totally consider becoming a p-k junkie. no kendo stick for you. FACED! but jimmy fallon gets one for making me watch that stupid fucking TAXI movie in the hospital the other night.
nurse who i thought was hot- what?! a guy on a morphine drip cant ask you out on a date? oh, youre seeing someone? well where is he? im here, im flesh and blood. true most of my blood is leaking somewhere out of my ears and ill never be able to operate chopsticks again, but hey! im right here. what do you mean you cant accept a tip? youre the only decent looking nurse in this morgue. im not asking you to do anything against the rules. just sit here and talk with me. ill tell you all about my harry potter obsession and how i think the angels have a great chance of winning it all this year. no, no. you dont need to check on that guy, i havent heard him breathing for hours. now tell me your name. is that hungarian? why is everything sounding like an bjork song all the sudden? you stupid bitch, you increased that drip so that i would pass out and you could go back to saving lives other than halfway fulfilling one of my sick erotic fantasies. well if the room wasnt getting so dark so fast i would swing this kendo stick right across youre wannabe Florence Nightingale tit you silly coooo.........
happy kendo stick thursday kids. im going to get absolutely tanked on painkillers and 7-Up. wish me luck. cheers.
my brain- what the fuck is your problem? you like swelling like my junk in 9th grade math class huh? you like causing me pain equivalent to dane cook stand up? if you werent so evolutionally well protected in my skull i would toss you in front of a handsome cab and let the horse poop on you. and you know what? i dont care if this is being written by you. you think youre so badass because you control every functioning part of my body. you god complex having cocksucker. if youre so damn cool how about you control your swelling and protein output. FACED! this kendo sticks for you panther-fucker.
the cat scan machine- you know why you suck? because when i was carted into to see you i thought you were a time machine. you had all these cool lights and were making all these bitchin noises like "zeeee", "zerdleooo" and "tookle". i was so stoked, i asked the nurse to turn the settings to December 25th 1986. that was the xmas i got my first star wars action figure. i was going to go into the past, unwrap the gift, look my father square in the eye and say "so, are you making it a point that i never get laid? get me a fucking football old man and teach me how to tackle and nail cheerleaders". but no, cat scan machine didnt do any of that shit. it just continued to make cool noises and mock my un-athletic brain. but before i even take the first kendo swipe at you, you heartless non time traveling, built by the lowest bidder, plastic dream raper, im taking a swipe at the technician operating this piece of shit. he was wearing a "drowning pool" shirt under his scrubs, drowning pool fucking swallows. and im shocked to see that they used the drowning pool classic, "let the bodies hit the floor" for the new RAMBO trailer. fuck, everyone and everything is getting the kendo stick in the cat scan room.
my spinal tap- i dont think pain matters anymore, because the spinal tap stole any pure or untainted thoughts i had left. a three inch needle into my fucking spine!!! then slowly let fluids drip out of said needle!!! from this day forward i will never get a boner while spooning a girl again.
various amounts of painkillers ive been on for the past few days- just kidding, i love you guys. if i wasnt already an alcoholic i would totally consider becoming a p-k junkie. no kendo stick for you. FACED! but jimmy fallon gets one for making me watch that stupid fucking TAXI movie in the hospital the other night.
nurse who i thought was hot- what?! a guy on a morphine drip cant ask you out on a date? oh, youre seeing someone? well where is he? im here, im flesh and blood. true most of my blood is leaking somewhere out of my ears and ill never be able to operate chopsticks again, but hey! im right here. what do you mean you cant accept a tip? youre the only decent looking nurse in this morgue. im not asking you to do anything against the rules. just sit here and talk with me. ill tell you all about my harry potter obsession and how i think the angels have a great chance of winning it all this year. no, no. you dont need to check on that guy, i havent heard him breathing for hours. now tell me your name. is that hungarian? why is everything sounding like an bjork song all the sudden? you stupid bitch, you increased that drip so that i would pass out and you could go back to saving lives other than halfway fulfilling one of my sick erotic fantasies. well if the room wasnt getting so dark so fast i would swing this kendo stick right across youre wannabe Florence Nightingale tit you silly coooo.........
happy kendo stick thursday kids. im going to get absolutely tanked on painkillers and 7-Up. wish me luck. cheers.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
who gets the kendo stick...
welcome to your thursday beatdown boys and girls. there's been an abundance of candidates worthy of the old kendo swipe to face this week; my supervisor as always, that cheeseburger that gave me heartburn, residents of massachusetss and so forth. so here are this weeks recipients of karmic justice in the form a wooden stick beating. prepare to get FACED! cock-wookies:
IT guy with shit eating grin- you've managed to do it yet again you verbal toilet.
me- why am i not getting any spam emails?
IT guy- i put *fart* a filter up so you won't get them *fart* anymore.
me- oh, thanks. (now i know his intentions were of the best, but spam email keeps me occupied. how else am i suppose to find out how much i could be saving on my long distance plan or what new miracle pill will cure prostate inflammation? besides, we all know that the road to hell is paved with "good intentions")
IT guy- no *fart* prob, what are *fart* friends for.
i could see the poo juice dripping down his chin through that smarmy smile. i think there's a video on the internet starring him titled "1 IT guy, 2 cups". what are friends for? friends drive you to the airport. friends buy you lapdances and jaeger shots on your birthday. friends offer to put their finger in your ass when your stressing out in the bathroom while experiencing your first bout of performance anxiety (i owe you one Paul). friends don't strip you of the only reason you check your email. FACED! this kendo sticks for you, you fucking ass-rat.
stall talking co worker- as talked about in the post below, i believe that you only get a good kendo stick blow to the knuckles. you FACED! yourself enough by accessorizing your shirt with that skunk-shit tail.
my urine- what the hell is your problem this week? you keep smelling like steamed vegetables. am i sleepwalking and eating broccoli patches at night? you should be smelling like you normally do, of coffee, jameson and self loathing induced erectile dysfunction. get it together pee. the last thing i want to do is kendo stick my own balls. i pay vietnamese hookers to do that for me.
the dude wearing the banana suit outside jamba juice who would not take "no" for an answer- look man, i don't want to try the new doucheberry smoothie. oh! you claim its really good? you like it? because i wanto to be just like you. i have a hard enough time getting laid, so i don't need to be talking to a 6 foot banana in broad daylight. it has a new vita-boost you swear by? well then, ill have the 16 oz. doucheberry smoothie, with a celibacy-boost and a shot of zero self respect. and what the hell, toss in one of those pretzels covered with total faggotry. you take debit cards right? the last kendo stick of the day is for you my struggling art history major.
IT guy with shit eating grin- you've managed to do it yet again you verbal toilet.
me- why am i not getting any spam emails?
IT guy- i put *fart* a filter up so you won't get them *fart* anymore.
me- oh, thanks. (now i know his intentions were of the best, but spam email keeps me occupied. how else am i suppose to find out how much i could be saving on my long distance plan or what new miracle pill will cure prostate inflammation? besides, we all know that the road to hell is paved with "good intentions")
IT guy- no *fart* prob, what are *fart* friends for.
i could see the poo juice dripping down his chin through that smarmy smile. i think there's a video on the internet starring him titled "1 IT guy, 2 cups". what are friends for? friends drive you to the airport. friends buy you lapdances and jaeger shots on your birthday. friends offer to put their finger in your ass when your stressing out in the bathroom while experiencing your first bout of performance anxiety (i owe you one Paul). friends don't strip you of the only reason you check your email. FACED! this kendo sticks for you, you fucking ass-rat.
stall talking co worker- as talked about in the post below, i believe that you only get a good kendo stick blow to the knuckles. you FACED! yourself enough by accessorizing your shirt with that skunk-shit tail.
my urine- what the hell is your problem this week? you keep smelling like steamed vegetables. am i sleepwalking and eating broccoli patches at night? you should be smelling like you normally do, of coffee, jameson and self loathing induced erectile dysfunction. get it together pee. the last thing i want to do is kendo stick my own balls. i pay vietnamese hookers to do that for me.
the dude wearing the banana suit outside jamba juice who would not take "no" for an answer- look man, i don't want to try the new doucheberry smoothie. oh! you claim its really good? you like it? because i wanto to be just like you. i have a hard enough time getting laid, so i don't need to be talking to a 6 foot banana in broad daylight. it has a new vita-boost you swear by? well then, ill have the 16 oz. doucheberry smoothie, with a celibacy-boost and a shot of zero self respect. and what the hell, toss in one of those pretzels covered with total faggotry. you take debit cards right? the last kendo stick of the day is for you my struggling art history major.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
who gets the kendo stick...
I'm not really a violent person. the two times i threw a punch in my life i ended up hurting my hand more than the victims face. that's why i stick to dropping elbows like real assholes do (ie: randy "macho man" savage). but this morning there is a shortage of coffee in the workplace and i feel like a sober dean martin. so i introduce you to the new weekly column, "who gets the kendo stick". for those of you not aware, a kendo stick is an eastern weapon normally referred to as a "shinai", "bamboo sword", "cane" or "fuck you up real good pole". the following people are in need of the kendo stick beatdown.
- obviously my supersivor gets the first beating. she's made smarmy comments to me in consecutive days. in exchange, i offer you a gift for your gross amount of disrespect. FACED BITCH! you get the first kendo stick beating, and it doesn't end with just you. oh yes, your husband, his pre-school teacher, your mailman, your cat, the cat next door that your cat has been fighting with at night, and whoever sold you your first big mac gets it as well.
- IT support guy. alright, there's a lot of reasons you should get one. perhaps because you whistle all day long and the only songs you know are "the star spangled banner" and "happy birthday". happy birthday? you're shitting me man. I'd presume you're a serial killer but i doubt that you are based upon the fact you wear scooby-doo themed ties with polo shirts. you also answer the majority of questions with "yeah baby" in an austin powers mock voice. and you're married, which means you're regularly having sex and I'm not. this kendo sticks for you asshole. and a second one is for your scrappy-doo necktie.
- Tech-Ops manager. strictly because everything that comes out of your mouth sounds like a fart through your shit eating grin. FACED BITCH! last kendo stick beating of the day.
- obviously my supersivor gets the first beating. she's made smarmy comments to me in consecutive days. in exchange, i offer you a gift for your gross amount of disrespect. FACED BITCH! you get the first kendo stick beating, and it doesn't end with just you. oh yes, your husband, his pre-school teacher, your mailman, your cat, the cat next door that your cat has been fighting with at night, and whoever sold you your first big mac gets it as well.
- IT support guy. alright, there's a lot of reasons you should get one. perhaps because you whistle all day long and the only songs you know are "the star spangled banner" and "happy birthday". happy birthday? you're shitting me man. I'd presume you're a serial killer but i doubt that you are based upon the fact you wear scooby-doo themed ties with polo shirts. you also answer the majority of questions with "yeah baby" in an austin powers mock voice. and you're married, which means you're regularly having sex and I'm not. this kendo sticks for you asshole. and a second one is for your scrappy-doo necktie.
- Tech-Ops manager. strictly because everything that comes out of your mouth sounds like a fart through your shit eating grin. FACED BITCH! last kendo stick beating of the day.
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