I read the Orange Putin Puppet has been yelling at the TV. If that’s the standard for crazy, then my whole fucking family has been nuts since 1968. Usually the rhetorical screaming at the TV is during a game or watching the news. That’s how I learned that […]
The Bear found out about this Bullshit Blog this past weekend. And guess what mother fuckers, I’m still alive. That goddamn Lewis Black almost got me killed. He reads a couple VW rants which refer to “the bear” and just has to interject “that’s his wife.” Stick to […]
I have always hated grass in all of its non-smokable forms. In Akron in 1969, the sneaky old woman, who gave birth to me, challenged my 7-year-old manhood and s
Last Saturday my Gilbert house was taken over by 50 Savage Bitches. For a douchebag millennial that might sound like a party. I fled on a bicycle.
I fucking hate driving from Tucson to Phoenix on Friday nights, and I’m not letting man-bun eat my pizza.
In 1987 (I think) I married a Savage, a real Savage, not some bullshit pejorative nickname, but a real Savage.
I have a son. He has a name, but I usually just call him “The Boy.”
When I was young, the kind of shitheads I used to hang around said things like: “I can’t see being married and waking up next to the same woman every day.”