Wednesday, September 16, 2009

The Van I'm Gonna Get

As a single fella, I don't know much what you babes are into. Can I call you "babes"? "Gals"? "Slammable dick caves"? I don't know, help me out here.

Are you into that song "Still of The Night" by Whitesnake? If I cranked that up on my hi-fi would that get you all damp in your unders?




One thing I do know is chicks dig vans. I'm thinkin' about gettin' me one. No, not some corny mini-van. But a f@cking VAN. From back when men drove vans and chicks drove red sports cars and that was all that mattered if you wanted to get the job done.

Like, a 1982 Chevy Beauville.



But WAY more macho than this one. I'm talkin' chrome Kreagar rims, orange shag carpeting, some of those Yosemite Sam mudflaps on the back lettin' people to know to BACK OFF!



I'd have a sweetass Pioneer tape deck. No wait, a DUAL tape deck. And because it's broken, there'd only ever be 2 tapes stuck in there.

1. Whitesnake's Greatest Hits. Of course.

and

2. A bootleg copy of fart sound effects. Because farts are hilarious.

And on the side, there'd be an airbrushed painting of this really sexy centaur man. And he's in really good shape. You can tell he takes care of his body. And his long flowing hair doesn't have any split ends. Scott obviously uses conditioner.

Did I mention I call him "Scott"?

So anyway, Scott is wearing these four-legged cut off Levi's that really let you see his horse bulge, and he's lovingly ravaging this sexy blue she-demon. You can tell the passion is real and this isn't just some fling.

And in the backround, far off in the distance is a little stream with wolves jumping over it like AROOOOOOOO! ARR ARR ARROOOOOOO!


Are you guys even listening to me here? Because this is like a Boston song and a Journey ballad just came together, and blew up on the side of my f@cking van!

(Cue arena rock guitar power chords)

It's just like,

"Centaur and the she-demon, are livin' on the side of my van!

It's erotic and sexy and mystical! It's mysticaaaal!

And his name is Scott, and there havin' a babaaay!!

And it's half-wolf, half-horse, half demon chick, but no one knows where the wolf came from, somethin' must have been going on on the side, and that's alotta haves but's it's a big ol' babaay!

Oh Scott you're so romantic! You're so romantiiiiiic!"



Yeah. Who thinks I should get that f@cking van now?!

Probably none of you. Because it's a stupid idea.

Monday, September 14, 2009

Guys' Night Advice Column #10: Grindin'

Sorry there was no "Guys' Night" over the Labor Day weekend. We were busy getting pissed with our buddies at a West Hollywood establishment. Let's get back to biz!



Dear Guys' Night,

This past weekend, me and my boys were out ragin' our guts out, natch, then I decided to surprise my ol' lady at a party and found her grindin' with some other dude. I lost my shit and jumped in a cab. Got back home and jacked it to some barely legal babe action to show her what's up. Problem is, I still have feelings for her but I don't know if I can trust her ass anymore. Should I stick with my steady or break it off for greener pastures?

-Young Pussy Don


Dear YPD,

Fuck! Don't put up with that shit. The best advice I could give you is, you shoulda made the first move. Women don't respect that, "I'm gonna be good to you baby" bullshit. If she got the scent you were slippin' it in on some broad on the sly, she'd have been makin' you breakfast in the morning on the regular. Gals want to know you're in demand. Now, you got two choices: shove it in a slimmy for a one time revenge bang, or #2: just fucking make it a Guys' Night for like, the next half a year.

You don't need that garbage, especially when you got your buddies. Nothing makes a woman jealous like knowing that you and the homies are out wagging your front tails at anything that moves during the big game. Even if "what moves" are your buddies when you're watching the big game and seeing who can pop one off first while a 30 second Diet Coke ad starring some half naked gash plays on the tube during the Bears game.

Football season always gets me amped up. Maybe it's the cheerleaders. Maybe it's the way my buddy Karl can put away a whole tray of nachos in no time flat. Either way, football season is no time to waste on some slit. Bust your nuts on a Guys' Afternoon, right before a Guys' Night. Keep focused on the season. Football is a man's sport, not some time to waste on "making love".

Go Bears! And Go Pussy! Even if "Pussy" is your own hand while you masturbate in the middle of the living room in front of all your buddies. 'Cuz, pussy is still pussy. No. Big. Deal.

-GN

Monday, August 31, 2009

Guys' Night Advice Column #9: Promise Keepers

Dear Guys' Night,

I feel awkward writing you, this is my first time seeking help in what I think is an otherwise perfect marriage. My wife and I have been married 22 beautiful years, we have 5 awesome kids, work is great, church is great. Promise Keeper? You betcha. You're looking at a six-year Promise Keeper veteran.
Here's my issue. Recently I shared with my wife that I 'experimented' with some other boys while I was in high school. NOTHING GAY, just some mutual jack sessions, some role-playing blowjobs (we made sure to pretend to be girls!) the usual healthy teen boy stuff. My wife freaked out. She wants me to see our pastor for some counseling, but I told her this is completely normal. What do you think, GN?

Thanks,

Bob Prendergast

(attached is a photo of me and promise keepers founder Bill McCartney)






Dear Bob,

Your wife wants you to see some priest for counseling on what she thinks is "gay"?! That's just gonna be confusing. Priests are promise keepers too. To God. And if anyone can understand how a man who doesn't have sex with women needs some release by having a mutual jack sesh or a few role playing beejers, it's men of the cloth. Ask any doctor and he'll tell you that it's not healthy to hold in your business too long. And if you can't turn to your buddies for help, then they're not very good pals.

Guys in high school have enough pressure to be "cool" and before you learn how to hook up with a slammin' chick, you don't wanna water down your rep and chase after the hoaglys. It's better to just kick it with the fellas and get some practice in so when you finally score that tasty senior, you'll be able to get the j.o.b. d.o.n.e. If your wife didn't have any brothers in high school, she'd never understand. And if she did have some and they didn't ever have a few buddies over to shoot the shit and tug one down, then they must have been fucking nerds. I'm sure you've told your kids the same thing 'cuz you sound like a stand up guy.

I remember when I was 15, my buddies Karl and Vern and me used to play Sega Genesis hockey and loser had to help the winner out with a few spit soaked strokes. It was just a little healthy competition to help us do the right and healthy thing for our bodies.

The next time she brings it up, call her a lesbo and ask her how it feels to be judged. Because she sounds like she might be a lesbo. Otherwise she wouldn't be complaining. 6-year promise keeper? Maaaaaan, you must be layin' down some sweet pipe on the mad regular!

Thanks for writing,
-GN

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Consumable Mistakes: I Don't Remember Mickey Rooney Playing An Oompa-Loompa In Breakfast At Tiffany's?


I'm pretty sure this is kinda racist.



“Oooo, Wirry Ronka eeesah soo Delickoricious!”
There, now it’s SUPER racist.

Monday, August 24, 2009

Guys' Night Advice Column #8: SUCK IT!

Dear Guys' Night,

Last week I got special backstage passes to a WWE event, and the Degeneration X guys (Shawn Michaels and Triple H) kept doing their thing where they cross their arms over their crotches and say "SUCK IT!"

The thing was, we were alone in a green room together.

Ever since then, whenever I watch wrestling I get kind of a tingly feeling in my pants. Not a full hard on, just a little movement. Did they make me gay? Should I stop watching wrestling?

Sorry if this is weird, but I don't know who to ask about this.
-DX Fan


Dear DX Fan,

Even if you WERE gay, there's nothing gay about Degeneration X, so you wouldn't be into it anyway. To be honest, I get full on bad boners watching wrestling and other sports all the time. That doesn't mean I'm gay, DX Fan. Look, I've gotten an erection at the grocery store too, but that doesn't mean I'm some sort of food pervert.

Frankly, I'm sick and tired of people making hackneyed comments about how wrestling is "gay". First off, when they say it's "gay", it's used as a derogatory statement, and while all of us here at Guys' Night are just guys bein' guys, we're no homophobes. I know this one guy from college who has a gay brother. True story.

Here's the other thing, Vince McMahon is no dummy. He markets to the fellas AND all the sexy gal wrestling fans. And if there's one thing the ladies can't resist, it's The Heartbreak Kid, Shawn Michaels. That's why I keep pictures of him all over my West Hollywood apartment. It gets the ladies dizzamp! And that Triple H is no slouch himself. He's my buddy Karl's favorite wrestler. Karl says he's more "rugged".

HBK and Triple H pose down!

Suck it!

HBK!

Ha!


I keep this in my john for when the gals take a whiz before we get all nasty-nasty.

Shawn is so badass.

Triple H spewin' it! F-yeah! Take that Mr. McMahon!


The next time you watch wrestling, have a few buddies over and stare at their crotches. Bet you see more than a few tents. It'll make you feel better knowing it's not just you that gets electrified by the excitement of the WWE! No big deal.

Suck it! (jk, ha!)

-Guys' Night

Monday, August 17, 2009

Guys' Night Advice Column #7: Mad Mentourage

What up Gizzo Nizzo!

You watch Entourage last night?! Man, that epp was off the chain! Basically, the whole show was about how Turtle has to go to his first day of college in his Maserati, Vince comes with, then, 5-minutes after being there, Vin goes up to the room of a sexy co-ed and gives her a bit of the old Chase charm while he video tapes it. SO good. One of the best yet.

My buddies know what a fan I am and even call me "Drama". And they've all said that "If you like Entourage, you gotta watch Mad Men! Those guys REALLY know how to live."

So I DVR'd Mad Men and gave it a whirl. Umm...how can I put this so I don't puke?

(spoiler alert)

The whole episode was about two guys making out and giving each other tugs. I couldn't find the remote fast enough. Even alone in my locked apartment I was afraid someone would walk in or see what I was watching through the window.

Basically, my boys pulled a fast one on me to make me watch that queer show and I want to know how to get them back. What's a good burn?

-Dramz



Dramz,

I don't know how to break it to you, but I actually don't think you were set up. I watched MM last night and like you, was bit thrown off by the gay jack off scene.

But I rewound it 6 or 10 times just to try and figure out what REALLY was going on there and I think I've got the answer.

See, Mad Men times was way back in the '80s when porn wasn't really coming into it's own yet. Chicks still had bushes and stuff and the guy's weren't nearly as thick and long and shaved down and they didn't have ripped abs like they do now. There was alot of confusion. So sometimes, guys had to help each other out with how business goes down. I know it might sound weird, but it totally wasn't a gay thing at all for one guy to give a hands on tutorial of how to get the nasty. Just one guy helpin' out another guy. No big deal. Remember, this was the '80s when there wasn't the internet. It was pretty messed up back then. Plus, guys had to work alot. So with no time to cheat on their wives and sore hands from laboring, you had to have another dude help you get that release. Think of it like soldiers in a war doing something brave. And if you wanna call soldiers gay, then buddy, you've got some problems coming.

But, if you still want to get back at your buds for something else, I like to sneak my buddy Karl's phone from him, change his girl's number to my name, then take a picture of my balls with my phone in the bathroom and send it to him with the message, "Hey baby, check this out."

He's usually so embarrassed he just smiles and doesn't say anything about it. Burn!

Lates,
-GN

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Consumable Mistakes: J & D's Bacon Salt

J&D's Bacon Salt, because "Everything Should Taste Like Bacon".



I hate to be all Andy Rooney about it, but no. No everything shouldn't. BACON should taste like bacon. Things with BACON in them should taste like bacon.

And they're right, it does taste "like" bacon. That doesn't mean it tastes EXACTLY like bacon. Bacon Salt is essentially BacOs in granular form.

I hate BacOs. In college I would eat BacOs and Miracle Whip sandwiches as a replacement for a BLT in the lean times.

And I hate BacOs for another reason.

Remember this asshole?



If only that commercial could have ended with him getting a crushing shot to the balls.

Getting back to it, if everything tasted like bacon, then bacon wouldn't taste like bacon. It'd just taste like everything else.

They don't have ads for Jergens hand lotion with, "You Should Be Constantly Masturbating." Yet. Good things don't need to be ALL the time.

If it was Christmas everyday, you'd barely be able to go 30 seconds without hearing a self inflicted gunshot.

And, if you wanna be all, "I don't eat bacon because of my religion" or "I don't eat meat for whatever reason", then fine, but fuck you. You don't get to taste bacon. I trade internal harm to my body for the delicious bacon experience. You just can't go screwing around with the universe. There has to be tits for tats. Kinetic and potential.

The only people who should be allowed to have Bacon Salt are the people who really need it, like poor people in the '20s who had to eat their boots or hats.





Wednesday, August 12, 2009

The Roast of Wendy's

Joan Rivers? Flava Flav? Nuts to that. Check me out as I totally slay Wendy's!




1. What’s grosser than gross?

Going to Wendy’s and getting Wendy’s then eating the Wendy’s in a bathroom stall at Wendy’s where a Wendy’s employee has just dropped a gorilla load of Wendy’s farts.

2. Wendy’s is so gross, sometimes after I eat Arby’s, I puke up Wendy’s.

3. Did you hear that Wendy’s founder, Dave Wendys, contacted us from the grave?

He said he’s in hell for inventing Wendy’s and that they only serve Wendy’s there.

4. What’s the difference between Wendy’s and horse manure?

“Horse manure” is spelled differently than “Wendy’s”.

5. A friend asked me once if I’d rather have lunch at Wendy’s or Hepatitis C.

I said I’d rather have cancer.

6. If Wendy’s made a cologne, it’d be called “Dumpster. The new fragrance from Wendy’s”.

7. Question. If put in the situation, could you pick out a picture of a Wendy’s burger from a police line up including Star Jones vagina and John Madden’s butthole?

I bet not. It’d be too hard.

8. The only people who eat at Wendy’s are black people and other people who eat at Wendy’s.

9. Mr. T pities the fool who thought that joke had a racist connotation.

10. What’s the difference between Wendy’s and Mr. T’s used toilet paper?

No one knows.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Consumable Mistakes: Mountain Dew Game Fuel

Mountain Dew knows that it's not easy being a gamer. Sittin' around on your lumpy can all day pushing buttons makes for some serious sleepies. That's why Mountain Dew is coming to the rescue with "Game Fuel". It's the perfect calorie laden syrupy goodness your body needs to blow up more fake stuff and decrease the chances even further that another human being may touch your private parts someday in any way, shape or form. 'Cuz hell, that'd just get in the way of gamin'! Can't have that!



And Mountain Dew made sure to give their already indescribable taste a blast of whatever Citrus Cherry Flavor is. And you know how you love some Citrus Cherry while you're gettin' your serious game on.

Of course, in my case, I used it to wipe the scotch haze off my brain this morning. I thought the color looked real funsies!



When did it change to "Mtn Dew"? Is that really what's going on? "I can't buy Mountain Dew! It takes me forever to read all those vowels on the label!"

Goddamn it.

Taking Gun Out of Mouth. Looking For Bigger Gun.

Hey you. Stupid. Yeah you. You stupid miserable waste. "Oh, look how sad and lonely me are! Boo-hoo. Life is SO hard! Whoa is me!" Yeah that's right, cry. CRY. You dumb sack of crap.

Idiot. Just a fat sad idiot. That's what you are.


Let us help turn that frown upside down by insulting your intelligence!

Even retards get the blues. Yeah you. Retard.


Monday, August 10, 2009

Guys' Night Advice Column #6: Manscapage

Dear Guy's Night,

My girlfriend was complaining about how all of her friend's boyfriends "manscape" and I'm the only one who doesn't. She said I was "nasty" down there and that's why she rarely gives me a blow-j. So to surprise her later, I took my Mach 5 for a little spin around my business in the shower this morning. Well, I've got a few problems. Goose, I need ya buddy.

1. The hair around my frolic zone is really lush and blends out into my legs and my stomach. So now, my thang thang looks like a sad little tree left in a field after a nuclear bomb went off.

2. I cut my sack up pretty bad and might need some stitches but I'm taking the "wait and see" approach.

3. I forgot about all the scars under there from a childhood tree climbing accident that I must have blocked out. Looks not so good.

4. I thought trimming was supposed to make your junk look bigger? This has not happened. In fact, it's quite the opposite.

Monday night is our "sex night". I can't show her this. It looks just terrible. Really awful dude. What the shit should I do?

Hope you can help,
-Patches



Dear Patches,

First off. Do. Not. Panic. I can totally relate, in high school wrestling, part of freshman initiation was to get held down by the coach while all the other guys took a Bic stroke at your goodness. I'm no stranger to getting an erection while other guys shave your stuff. It's embarrassing, I know. But there's nothing wrong with guys bein' guys. Just masturbate to a Hustler and you'll be all man again.

I think you asked about that right? I could just reread your question but I'm too lazy and hungover to look at it again.

Glad to help brotha!
-GN

Sunday, August 9, 2009

I Blew It With G.I. Joe

I love going to the movies when I have a weekday off. Going to a matinee by myself has basically become my new "going to church". My dad used to tell me, "You know Michael, I know you don't like going to mass, and frankly sometimes I don't necessarily want to sit there and listen to it either, but you have to appreciate it for the time to be alone with your thoughts and not have to answer a phone or to listen someone's bullshit at work."


And that's why I like crappy movies in the middle of the day. I just want to sit there and not think and watch giant robots shoot guns at each other, stuffing my face with butter in the center and butter on top popcorn, and have The Arclight's high standards of audio blow my eardrums out. I don't want to hear the preacher man fill my brain with what he thinks about the meaning of life. I have enough issues to worry about.


This week I saw The Hurt Locker. Which I really enjoyed, although the movie made me a bit shell shocked on my skateboard ride home. It was a bit more of a "thinker" than I usually pick, but I just wasn't in a G.I. Joe kinda mood for some reason.


After the movie, outside of theater, I realized the error of my ways.


The Hollywood Arclight had THIS on display!








Holy shit! There's a grey cargo van in G.I. Joe?! Fucking fuck I really fucked up and I don't know if I'll ever forgive myself. If I woulda known there was a sweetass plain grey van in the movie I'da been signed, sealed, delivered into that bad bitch! A-Team Van shmay team van. That plain grey van is the tits pajamas!

Must be why G.I. Joe was #1 at the box office with $56.2 Million over the weekend.




Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Egg Man On The Metro

I've said it before and I'll say it again: I like living in Los Angeles more than living in New York, but I like New York better than I like Los Angeles.

Here's another reason why.

I got on the subway yesterday, (yes, they have one here and it's fantastic) and a music trio boarded with me at the same time. They then began into a medley of Beatles songs, the frontman being a 6-year old.

As it was rush hour, the car was a bit crowded, although still comfortable. About 30 seconds into their set, a passenger blurted out, "CAN YOU STOP PLEASE! PLEASE STOP PLAYING! I'LL GIVE YOU A DOLLAR IF YOU STOP PLAYING!"

Now, normally when someone is brazen enough to scream something out, they are mentally ill, intoxicated, of the crabby elderly sort, or a combination of the three.

This was none of those. This, was an early 30's hipster type, Mac Book in tow, with all the trimmings. After the guitar player gave him a bit of "the big smile", "awe come on man! don't be an old so and so!", fancy lad retorted with "I've had a hard day! I JUST WANT SOME QUIET! IT SAYS NO LOUD MUSIC PLAYING ON THE TRAIN! IT SAYS NO LOUD MUSIC PLAYING ON THE TRAIN!!!"

This was obviously a case of "shumbuddy had theiw caw in the shop and had to tate the twain! I can't bewieve I hafta to wide wif deez animaws! sniff sniff. boo hoo."

Remember this was a subway band. Led by a 6-year old. Playing Beatles songs. Beatles. Songs. Poorly, si. But nonetheless.

At this point, I'm physically shaking with anger, yet too far away to say anything that won't be screamed in someone else's ear. Where are my New York cohorts?! Where are the good people, calloused enough to endure excessive noise, yet righteous enough to verbally destroy a grown man-baby when he deserves such?!

And this is where Mr. Hard Day made a mistake. Out came: "WHY DON'T YOU GET A REAL JOB!"

And just like a needle skipped off the record, the guitar player responded with,

"I got three jobs."

The guitar at his side now. The tiny frontman sitting on the floor of the car.

Hard Knocks:
You have to get off the train at the next stop!

Guitar Player:
Man, we just playin' some songs.

Tuff Rocks:
That's not a job. I have a job! This isn't a job! You have to get off the train at the next stop! It says no loud music playing! Get a job!

Guitar Player:
I GOT 3 JOBS!


As the train came to a halt at Beverly and Vermont, the guitar player handed his acoustic to the little boy, and calmly patted him and the tambourine player out of the train. Sadly this was where I got off also.

The guitar player was a large man, 6'3 and muscular. His kind smile now gone, the Beatles now silenced, I watched as he approached Frowny Face while the doors shut, the crybaby still publicly insulting the guitar player, emasculating him with "you don't have a real job liar" and complaining about "the rules of the train".

I don't condone violence. In real life. For the most part. But I spent the next 15-minutes delightfully fantasizing about the verbal and physical assault that the crabby little man-boy might have endured. Probably one that he had dodged for years. And probably one that he had coming.

And sure as sugar one that mouthy snot deserved.

To be fair, the guitar player gave peace a chance. But John Lennon never said how many chances you had to give.

Monday, August 3, 2009

Consumable Mistakes: Dwight Yoakam's Take 'Ems Lil' Joes

(originally posted on 1/15/08)

1. Do you smack your lips and eat with your mouth open while you breathe through your nose when eating?

2. Have you, or are you currently, beating your spouse, child, or girlfriend?

3. Have you said the "n-word" without irony while frustrated with a person of another race? (non-applicable for you filthy Italians)

4. Are you unaware that most people who don't smack their lips and/or eat with their mouth open while breathing through their nose are laughing AT Larry The Cable Guy, not WITH him?

5. Are you unaware that making fun of Larry The Cable Guy is cheap and easy like kicking a dead dog for a nickel?

6. Have you "maybe" killed a man in a bar brawl, but no one in your town cares whether you did or not, nor do they care that he ain't around no more?

7. Have you ever thought it was "pretty cool!" when you had diarrhea?

8. When you wake up in the morning, have you usually forgotten who (or what) you fucked or ate the night before?

9. Is one of those "who's" maybe Reba McIntyre? Is one of those "what's" (applicable for "ate" or "fucked") the dead dog you paid a nickel to kick?

10. And finally, does purchasing frozen White Castle hamburgers as "groceries" make you feel self-conscious at the super market for trying to act "better than everyone?"

Then you might like...



I can only think of one other thing that would have made me happier to see on a store shelf, but I'm pretty sure they'll never make "Billy Ocean's Tasty Brother Brand Rib Tips".

But these are pretty close on a satisfactory scale. The problem is that I wrote the preceding before actually trying the product (which cost $4.79 before tax at the Meijers store in Saginaw, MI). I wanted to give them a thorough thrashing.

They're actually quite good. I put "Fast As You" on repeat, sat in my underpants, and washed down four in a row with Jim Beam and Vernor's Ginger Ale. I likes mine with a little American cheese on top.

But then again, I answered "yes" to questions 7, 8, and 9.

Everything Old Is New Again

Good news Midwestern Nightmares newbies. In an effort towards consolidation, I'm going to gradually begin siphoning in previously written pieces featured on blerds.com, comedy.com, and the original Midwestern Nightmares column from whipitoutcomedy.com

And by "Good News", I mean, "Hope Ya Like Old Horseshit!"

Kittens,
-Mike

Guys' Night Advice Column #5: Red Sox

Whaaaasuuuuuup Guy's Night!

Lately, my girlfriend has been all raggin' on me about leaving on my Red Sox cap when we have sex. I mean, I wear it backwards, natch, so it's not like there's a bill poking her in the face. And she knows I never take it off after the all-star break, especially at this crucial part of the season. I've been wearing that hat for 4-years, unwashed and backwards, and it's a good luck charm. Dude, if I could tell you the shit I've been in with that hat. Fights after Sox games, getting arrested for public urination after Sox games, the one time I fingered that old waitress at Who's On First after the Sox beat the Yankees. You get the drift. Good memories. I've been through more with that hat then I have with her. I tell her all the time but it won't sink in. But what really bugs me is that last season she was cool with it. She thought it was "cute". I really like her, almost to the "l-word" point, but my first love will always be the the Sox. What should I do?

-Wade Fenway



WF,

Dude.




Why are you dating a girl during baseball season? Are you wicked homo?

And wasn't this the plot to that gay Jimmy Fallon/Drew Barrymore movie? Pretty sure it was. I saw it like 6 times with my buddy Karl.



No offense, but that's another reason I don't like the Red Sox. That was best guy's movie they could come up with? Little Jimmy Fallon and Grossout Drew Barrymore? I'm a Detroit fan, and we did it right.




See man, if your team is gonna make a baseball movie, you gotta get a badass guy's guy actor to star in it like Kevin Costner. K-Cost!



He's the total package. K's not some young kid, he's an old school tough guy that the ladies can't get enough of. I don't know whether it's his eyes, strong All-American physique or borderline fatherly sexuality that keeps 'em comin' back for more. I just know it works for us when me and the boys are just hangin' out in my basement in the off season, crackin' a few cold brews and watching some Costner flicks.


You can really see how the broads just swoon over this guy's guy. Such a hot piece...for the gals!



Check it out!



GET SOME, Sox fans! Uh uh uh!



We'll totally watch anything with KC in it. He's like an honorary Tig! Of course, no one gets the primo poster spot over my bed but the main man, Thomas:




Hope this helps!


-GN


P.S.- The Tigers are gonna be balls deep in your Red Soxy Fengay asses in the playoffs.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Consumable Mistakes: Jolly Rancher Yogurt, Watermelon Flavored.

Yep, no leftover Taco Bell for me this morning. Just gonna start the day off right with a nice cup of yogurt. Get the ol' mechanics runnin' smooth.

This yogurt is SO good. But you know what would make it even better?

Some granola perhaps?

Fuck no! Don't be stupid. What would really turn this breakfast party out is if I could somehow have Jolly Rancher candy AND my yogurt at the same time!

Holy shit! I can?! Well sign me right up for.....



...tooth diabetes!


I can't wait to chase it with some celery sticks stuffed with Butterfinger crumbs and then really get things going with a nice bowl of Kashi covered in nacho cheese sauce.


You think kids playing physically active games on Wii is just gonna fix everything? Not over Blue Bunny's dead bunny body.

Monday, July 27, 2009

Guys' Night Advice Column #4: Smokin' Stogies

Dear Guys' Night,

Yo yo! 'Sup 'Sup!

I was mackin' to this fine ass girl at Avalon in H-wood on Saturday and thought I had the kitty in the bag. I wanted to make her think I wasn't TOO into her, so I took it outside for a sec to smoke this badass stogie I got from my buddy Erik at his bachelor party.

When I went back inside, she was all like, "Ugh, you totally stink like cigar smoke. Gross." Then I tried to flip the script on her and said in my best Rick James voice, "Whatever. YOU stink you stink ass bitch!" Then tried to laugh it off.

That's when her friend was like, "come to the bathroom with me". I thought they were gonna come back ready to split to the crib with me and my buddy Karl, but they never did.

So:

1. Why are chicks so lame about smokin'? Kid Rock does and he made it with the hottest on the planet.



and

2. What are the funniest comebacks to make some girl think you're not into her but will still make her laugh and make it easier to get that nasty-nasty?


Thanks for the help GN,
Rick James Bitch


'Sup 'Sup RJB,

First off, don't beat yourself up about ANY of this. If you wanna smoke a fine cigar, smoke it. Wherever and whenever. And if women don't like it, they can suck it. I belong to this awesome mens only sauna in West Hollywood with a couple of my boys. Some nights when we're out at the club just dancin' our asses off, and all the girls must be on a code red because they aren't into even my BEST moves, we just say fuck it, GUY'S NIGHT, and hit the steam. There's always a bunch of chill guys there and there aren't any lame rules. It's towel optional, so of course everyone just goes buck so the boys can get some steam too. Besides, you can barely see in there it's so thick and they always pump the hottest house music so you can keep the par-tay goin'. AND, look man, if you've got a serious case of the blues brothers because of all the cold fish at the club grindin' and then ditching your ass, alot of the guys just feel free to tug one out. No big deal. Honestly, I haven't done it yet, I've just watched a bunch of times trying to work up the courage.

Oh, and you can smoke a cigar or cigarette or a joint or whatever in there too if you want. No one cares. It's all about relaxation.

I'll hit you up on AIM and maybe we can cruise over together sometime. I love a good cigar. And I always light it up with one of these bad boys:



Women forget all about things like cigar smoke when they're already pre-soakin' for your E-hard Zippo.


As far as crackin' up the ladies goes, just be yourself and do what you think is funny. My old standby is to go into lispy homo mode and break out some Just Jack. Chicks love that show. Plus, it shows that you're open minded and sensitive.

But for reals, if she didn't laugh at the Rick James bit, then it's best you leave that stick stuck in the mud. Ahm Rock Jahmes botch! Yeeeaah Baby!

Check your AIM later.

Peace Out,
GN

Sunday, July 26, 2009

Inscents

I saw this on the counter of a liquor store on the corner of Santa Monica and Vine.

One of my pet peeves is incense. I won't even go into a store that smells like it, no matter what they are selling, and how badly I need it. Take a note shop keeps, I'm a valuable consumer with literally TENS of dollars in expendable income!

(I'd insert about 50 jokes about this here, but I don't want to insult your intelligence by acting like you couldn't just make them up yourself. I.e., I bet it smells like desperation mixed with blah blah blah, or I'd rather have incense that smells like Brian Austin Hasslehoff, etc.)


Thursday, July 23, 2009

Who Stole My Twankie

Sonny Hernandez was the George. His brother Paul was the Lenny. A master blaster pairing of hispanic brothers in the midst of a primarily white catholic school. Sonny, my 4th grade peer was quite small but appeared bigger due to his large helmet of jet black hair. Paul, 2-years older and seemingly as many feet taller, was quiet with tea cup ears, a Lloyd Christmas haircut, and a slouching face. He was terrifying.

Everyday at lunch, Sonny would make his rounds to the tables in the gymnasium, forcing a weak attempt at a cholo swagger, which at the time came off as a goofy John Wayne meets George Jefferson impersonation. His brother Paul, "the muscle", always in tow.

Approaching those susceptible to intimidation, Sonny would ask them, "WHO STOLE MY TWINKIE?!", his eyes narrowed and brow furrowed to show he meant business. "Twinkie" was always pronounced "Twankie", which I always attributed to the John Wayne leanings and a 4th grader's poor attempt as a southern "twang". Although now, I picture it more of the way comedienne Monique would neck roll it out.

And while I don't recall if Sonny ever actually got someone to fork over a "Twankie", I do recall being sickened at his usual lunch involving a cold hot dog sandwich with ketchup. My mother is quite a worrier about things like raw meat and I'd been taught to never eat an uncooked hotdog. Which, was wrong of course. They're all precooked. I learned that around the time I figured out Jesus wasn't watching me do a goddamn thing.

I was reminded about all of this when I was thinking about seminal bully takedowns from movies. And I remembered the time Sonny tried the "Twankie" thing with me on the playground after school. And I was alone and I made some sort of insulting remark. And Paul tried to choke me. And I punched him in the face in a moment of panic.

Paul fell down, just like the man-child Lenny he was. Silently. Shocked. He probably didn't get hit all that often, if ever, due to his size.

And after the split second of my mind racing with "he is going to get up and kill me. run. RUN!"

I realized he wasn't. He welled up, got off the ground with a red cheek, and they walked away.

I just remembered feeling bad about it, sitting on the stoop waiting for my mother to pick me up. I never even told anyone. No one would have believed me anyway. I would've probably been razzed for lying or a rematch would have been incited, one that I would most likely lose badly this time.

Of course, when lunchtime came around again, it was the same shit, different day.

"WHO GOT MY TWANKIE!?"

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Glory of The Danger Zone

1986. My Dad took me to see Top Gun. At 10-years old, you can understand how I walked out of that theater with my mind thoroughly blown. Albeit, I could have done without sitting next to my Dad during the unnecessarily tongue heavy love scene. Some good old fashioned boobs or butt are fine next to pop, but just because Tom Cruise was trying to cement his faux masculinity doesn't mean I should have had my interest in women delayed by that obscene display.

But what I really took away from the film was the song Danger Zone.

I'd already been exposed to this Kenny Loggins guy in "midday matinee" viewings of Caddyshack and Footloose. (No cable, no VCR) Apparently, he did all the totally kickass songs for the movies.

But Danger Zone, well, the guy had really outdone himself this time. If there was ever a song to sing in your head while you're being drug on a skateboard behind a ten-speed with a rope attached to the seat, this was it.

That same weekend, my best friend's Dad took him to Karate Kid II even though he said he was going to see Top Gun as we had discussed. This meant that there would be numerous arguments as to which was the superior film.

And it also meant that HIS new favorite song was "Glory of Love" by Peter Cetera.


I'm sure you can guess who turned out to be a real pussy.


Everyone.




(what the shit is Kenny doing in the make-out bed? with a camera? and why is he trying to make a song about airplanes into some hot fuck jam?)



(for extra fun, watch the peter cetera performance with the sound off. you just know he won't be able to get offstage fast enough so he can masturbate in the mirror.)

Monday, July 20, 2009

Guys' Night Advice Column #3: Livin' The Dream

You ask, we answer! Just one guy helpin' out another guy. It's no big deal!


'Sup Guys' Night!

I'm a 38-year old guy's guy. I love being single and having freedom. What can I say, I LIKE having stacks of empty pizza boxes in the living room. I LIKE being able to build a beer can pyramid on the coffee table if I want. And if I want to get high on a Tuesday and eat a Hormel Chili sandwich over the sink in my underwear while I flip through a back issue of Cherry, I don't want to hear any lip about it. I lived with a girl once after college and all she ever did was complain that the toilet was filthy. I never understood that. The toilet. Is for. SHITTING IN! Who cares if it's clean?! Basically, I'm living the dream right now. But I gots a problem GN. I've been talking to this girl on MySpace for a while and she's smokin' hot (although she looks kinda bigger and older in her "tagged photos" on Facebook but those are probably just weird angles). We're supposed to maybe meet up for a coffee or something sometime. I'm worried that she's too into me and I don't want to get sucked into something that messes up the good thing I got going on. So my question is: Should I just hit it and quit it?

Thanks man,
PikeBro69



Dear PikeBro69,

Dewd. Wtf?! I think you already answered your own question here. Don't you understand? You made it out alive! While most of your buddies are changing diapers and BEGGING to hit the range on Saturday, you're doing want comes natch. It's your life, you SHOULD do as you please. You're a fucking man for Christ's sake. Why even risk screwing it up by going on that date? Is a little piece worth it? Hell naw. Sounds like you're doin' just fine as is. I was flipping though the new GQ in the john the other day and got so wrapped up in the article about Channing Tatum, which is an excellent article. GQ is always so on point with what guy's guys are into.



Check out homeboy's abs! Oh shit! I could work out 24/7 and never get that cut. Channing's in that new G.I. Joe movie, which I wasn't going to see until I read the article. He seems super cool and down to earth. And plus, he's got the total action hero body. Can't wait to check out the movie. I'll probably go with some of my buddies 'cause chicks just aren't down for any good movies. Sorry, but I GOTTA tell you this story about when me and Karl were at the first Transformers. We only had enough cash on us to get one large popcorn and when I went to the bathroom, Karl put a hole in the popcorn bucket and stuck his dick through it. He totally played it cool until I went for a handful about halfway through and that's when I ended up getting a big handful of Karl's boner! It was so buttery and unsuspected that I must've put my hand back in the popcorn bucket 6 or 7 times until I realized what he did and then I was like, you asshole! I threw him on the ground and we were fighting until an usher tossed us out. Fucking classic Karl!

So anyway, the other day I was flipping through the new GQ in the john, and I got so wrapped up in that article that I forgot to flush until I got home from work. You think some chick woulda put up with that?

Don't hit it. Don't quit it. Just keep livin' the life bro!

-GN

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Alabama's Revenge



Remember a few ticks back when I was going on about how my baby kitty, Alabama, is a real fucking cunt?

Well guess who's gonna be on the Jay Leno show?

That fucking cunt is.

That dirty little bitch is like, 3 months old, and is already gonna be on a primetime, network talk show.

I'm motherfucking 33-years old and have yet to be on any motherfucking thing! Even got taped for something but it got thrown in the trash. And that fucking cunt is...(sigh).

Plus, she won't tell me about it. Just a bunch of begging meows for food. Cunt is being all "no big deal" about it. Giving me that "dude, you must fucking SUCK at comedy" look. All, "I just got borned and lick my butt all day and try to eat your sandwich off the coffee table and guess who am gonna be on telly! Me is! Can't wait to bite your feet awake at 6am drunk daddy!"

You know. THAT look.

I hope she gets run over by one of Jay Leno's stupid Charlie Chaplin cars or whatever the fuck he has a thousand of.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

To The Laddy

If you didn't know Pat Brice, you missed out. Couragious, brash, loud, boisterous, generous, funny, attractive, smart, successful. He owned whatever room he was in. He could tell you to go fuck yourself and you'd take it as the biggest compliment in the world.

You ever see those SNL "Bill Brasky" sketches? To my comedian buddies who started in Chicago, he was that guy, in the flesh. Bigger than life. And loved to the fullest.

We lost him 2 years ago today.



Visit Pat at www.patbrice.com

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Soak Up The Night

My buddy Matt Braunger's album came out today on Comedy Central records.

Bob Seger referenced cover art? Check.

Funny as all get out? Check.

Buy it. You'll love it in your earholes.





go here: http://aspecialthing.com/forum/f42/out-today-matt-braungers-soak-up-night-14211/


(sorry, links aren't working on this bucket of crap, you'll have to take a quarter of a second to copy and paste, lazy.)


Monday, July 13, 2009

Guys' Night Advice Column #2: Models

It's the #2 edition of your #1 spot for hot guy on guy advice!

Dear Guys' Night,

First off, big fan.

Secondly, I got in troubs over the weekend when I took home a gal from the club who was WAY out of my league. Like, a total model. I attached a photo I took of her on my iPhizzo from that night if you don't believe me.



Easily the hottest babe I've ever scored. But, when we hopped into the sack, my, um, "equipment" wouldn't work properly. I'm only 26 and have never had this problem with any of the regular grossouts I usually bag. How can I make sure this doesn't happen again?! Helps!


Thanks,

-Almost Scored With A Model Bro!




Dear ASWAMB,

That babe is slammin'!

Sounds like you have a confidence problem. That bangin' model was probably just a little intimidating and your junk got a bad case of the cut and run.

Here's an exercise that alot of my friends do that I think will help your sitch. Next time you're hanging out with your buddies watching the game, try to get the biggest erection you can in your pants. Then flop it out and make everyone look at it, bobbing it up and down, side to side and whatnot. See how long you can maintain your full member. Make a game out of it for fun and ask some of your buddies if they want to join in. $20 to the winner! Sex and boners shouldn't be so serious like they are when you're cuddling up with that fox. Then, next time you get lucky with a 10, you can just close your eyes in the sack and pretend you're with your friends, all waving hard dongs around and cutting up in the living room. That'll help take the edge off.

Thanks for reading and never quit shooting for the top of the tail pile!

-GN



Dear Guy's Night, My Axe Body Spray only seems to attract men. What's the best scent to get the panties dropped?

-Darryl



Dear Darryl,

Nothing wrong with making some new buds. Keep smellin' as is! Why are you trying to attract so many women? Do you want some more errands to run on the weekend or something?!

-GN

Friday, July 10, 2009

What An Adorable Baaybeee! (with bonus The Fabulous Thunderbirds)


                                   *


That's my baby kitty. Alabama. She's a real fucking cunt 95% of the time.

I love her, she's adorable.  Cute little white socks on all four paws.  But seriously, what a fucking cunt.

And that's why I don't have kids. Because when Alabama wants to eat at 4:30 am, and walks on Daddy's hungover face, Alabama can get chucked 10 feet, stick a landing, and remain in the exact same mood as if I got up and fed her.

If my kid...well, you get it.

It probably wouldn't go over as "funny" if I put this up:



This is my son. Karl. He's a real fucking cunt 95% of the time.

I love him, he's my fatso son. But seriously, what a fucking cunt.

When it's 8:30 am and I'm driving him to school and he won't stop bitching about wanting to stop at KFC and I try to explain that they're not open and even if they were we wouldn't be going there and he still won't listen, I want to throw him out of the car into oncoming traffic. Fucker swings a baseball bat like a girl but brags about his .420 average on that stupid MLB video game. 

Yep, makin' fun of fat kids, babies, and calling kittens "fucking cunts".  I'm a class act.

If it makes you feel better, I wrote this while listening to Beyonce's "Halo" on repeat.  


*Yes, I realize that this would make a great "ME EATED POOP!  HOORAY!" or whatever, kitty gibberish photo, but we have enough of those.
**Yes, after reading this, I am self aware that Louie CK and Jason Nash have material where they say outlandishly derogatory things about their children, but my kitten is a cunt, and this is just a stupid blog.





On a completely unrelated note, how badass is Detroit born Kim Wilson?  Motherfucker's got swagger like hotcakes.  Have yourself a Friday kids!  It starts here:






Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Light Summer Reading

Actually, more like Light Summer Picture Looking.

I got this coffee table book today. Fuh. King. Incredible.




If I was into dudes, this would be my porno.


But Mike, it's just a bunch of Van Halen pictures we've all seen a million times. It's not like there's a picture of Michael Anthony in scuba gear with a knife in his mouth.








Fine. But c'mon, is there a picture of DLR jumping off a skateboard over a tennis net? On the opposite page?




Yes. Yes there is. And fine, it is porno to me. Homophobes.




Monday, July 6, 2009

My "Dead Head Sticker On A Cadillac" Moment

If "Punks Not Dead", on an air freshener, in a 1998 Chevy Impala, doesn't say, "Punk IS Dead", I don't know what does.

I think I just accidentally just found sympathy in a Don Henley song.


Damn you Henleeeeeeyyyyyyy!!!!!!


On Hollywood Blvd:





Guys' Night Advice Column #1: BOD Man. Really Ripped Abs.

You asked for it (like 4 people), you got it! It's the Guys' Night Advice Column, every Monday at Midwestern Nightmares. The advice column where it's just one guy helpin' outta another guy. No big deal.

Here we go!

Dear Guys' Night,

Me and my girlfriend lead pretty busy lives. We don't really have time to see each other much, so we try to make a point on the weekends. But lately, our Friday nights have pretty much consisted of us watching House Hunters four times in a row, eating a frozen pizza, then falling asleep.

How can I breach the subject of me wanting sex without it turning into some big deal?

-Just Some Guy


Dear JSG,

Sounds like you have a case of the comfy couple blues. What you need to do, is show her you're still a hot commodity on the schoolyard and she should treat you like you deserve. The next time you're heading over to the ol' cold potato's for your bummer Friday night, make sure you show up in your freshest Tap Out tee, DOUSED in Axe Body Spray or better yet, BOD. (I like "Really Ripped Abs")






Smellin' all fine as hell, settle in for some sensitive lady tv as per usual, but have one of your pals make a preplanned phone call. Tell her how you totally forgot it was Dave or Tony or whatever's birthday, and you've gotta get down to PJ McFlanno's ASAP! First off, if she doesn't understand that it's important to your buds, then she can get the curb and tell her you gotta go anyway. Deal with it next Friday. But, if she's into it and wants to come with, make sure you tell her you gotta go RIGHT NOW, not next Tuesday after she spray paints her face. It's important that you really hammer home what a grossout she looks like in her fatso sweats so she'll feel really bad about herself and stays put.

Now cut the fuck out and get to the bar. Guy's Night!

Don't hesitate to really do it up with shots of Jaeg Bombers and what not. Make the night all about guys just being guys. You are pussy hounds on the hound for some puss! That'll make your old bag really jealous. Girls can sense that shit. Maybe you and the boys can bend over a little extra while shooting some stick for the ladies, maybe drop a few tabs and go out in the parking lot to "piss on the dumbster" but then you really just show each other your dicks and see who can get a hard on the fastest and whoever wins makes the other guys stroke it, just for a little or something? Yeah. That'll show her.

Then maybe you all get in Dave's truck and see if you can have a wrestling match in that tight space with your clothes off and the heat all the way up. Loser has to jack it while Celine Dion plays and the other guys video tape it. Now we're talkin' Guy's Night! No big deal!

After you boys are done ragin', go back to that snoozefest all fucked up with a small jizz stain on your pants, but tell her it's just sour cream from all the 'chos you were chowing down to celebrate. She'll be suspicious, but won't be able to prove nothin', 'cause you didn't do nothin' wrong! Ha! Just guys bein' guys!

Hope this helps out!

-GN

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Me, The Rockabilly Bigot

I have strong opinions on clothing styles. By no means am I, as Ray Davies put it, "a dedicated follower of fashion", but I tend to be a real smart mouth about certain "trends" that have crossed over to "eye sore" status.


One that I've taken pot shots at in the past is the "flame bowling shirt, chubby, spikey hair, goatee, chuck taylors, chain wallet, bad tattoos, Oakley wrap arounds, hoop earrings, hot rod/rockabilly" archetype.


The type that only eats at 50's nostalgia diners, has multiple framed pieces of Betty Page artwork in their home, and probably listens to Big Bad Voodoo Daddy in their car on the way to Big Bad Voodoo Daddy concerts.



Now, I kinda feel bad about it. Because I LOVE watching this man's television programs:






So damn genuine and likable. And I want to eat at every single one of those "Diners, Drive Ins and Dives".

I don't even cringe when he says things are, "money". I'd watch that show until my eyes bleed maple syrup.

Is it somehow racist if I say, "Oh, but he's one of the good ones. I just wouldn't want him dating my daughter"?

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Denny's All Nighter Rockstar Menu




Denny's makes food that would make you puke if you weren't drunk. But, if you're drunk, and worried about puking later, you might eat Denny's to make you not puke. However, there's always the risk that you might not just puke up the booze, but the booze mixed with the Denny's.

However you shoot it, Denny's is synonymous with throwing up.

The execs at Denny's obviously know this, because they've basically thrown in the towel (completely soaked in "fuck it") and have teamed up with "Rockstars" who make music that make you want to puke so that they could create menu items that will make you want to puke your guts out of your earholes!

With collaborations involving Rascal Flatts, Good Charlotte, Sum 41 and Gym Class Heroes, Denny's restaurant locations better invest in high pressure toilets and seriously consider giving their janitorial crew a decent raise.


Here's Rascal Flatts proudly displaying their "If You Like Rascal Flatts, You Probably Knocked Up Your High School Girlfriend At The Junior Prom And Never Moved Out of The Shitty Little Town You Live In And Have Bleach Blonde Spikey Hair And Wear Visors And Flip Flops With Jeans And Oakley's And You Also Sing Along To Jimmy Buffet Without Irony And Your Girlfriend Never Lost The Baby Weight And For That You Sometimes Call Her A Rayll Fuuhkinn Kihnt Bitch Then Run Off To Have A Beer With Dave At Early's Tavern Breakfast Platter":




Here we have Good Charlotte with their, "One or Both of Us Fucked Paris Hilton or Nicole Richie or Married Them or Who Knows, Who Cares, Betcha Can't Name One of Our Songs Egg Burritos":





This is Sum 41 presenting their "Just Happy For The Free Meal Breakfast Sandwich!"





And here we have Gym Class Heroes showing off their, "We Just Jacked Off On Some Moons Over My Hammy, Check It Out Yo'!" menu item.




Thanks Denny's! It seems impossible, but you just ruined the concept of a late night breakfast! This is the world I'm supposed to help save by recycling and driving a radio controlled car? Nice. Real nice.


Seriously, take one more good long look at this and tell me you don't kinda understand how a good Mom could drive a mini Van full of her children into a lake and believe it's the right thing to do: