2009 November » Wolsamnoraa's Blog

November 2009
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Addiction

Food, Half-ass, Injury, Life Lessons, Poop Related 1 Response »

Nov 302009

Beer is helping

I drink eight cups of coffee a day and, at least, a diet cola. I masturbate twice on the hour every hour and watch TV for dozens of hours on end. If I have one beer, there’s a good chance I’ll have all of the beer.

I have what some people might call an addictive personality (and, consequently, I also have a heart condition known as bad-ass heart condition; it’s terminal).

This namesake doesn’t impede me one bit. I’m a big fan of going all out whenever I can. It’s expensive and it’s dangerous, but it’s not my gripe.

I love taking it to the limit time after time. My problem is that I am an all-or-nothing kind of guy. If there’s beer in your fridge, I drink it. If there’s food on your plate, I eat it.

In fact, one time I ate 50 hot wings in a boned-meat eating competition from my competitor’s bowl because he hadn’t shown up yet…he won. My asshole was so raw the next day from pooping hot fire that I had to buy a 20lb. bag of ice to cool my poop shoot. I would have bought the 50lb. bag but they were out.

Unfortunately, gorging my fat face ends with beer bottles and bird parts. When the product of consumption is healthy or educational, I quit it.

I gave up exercising after I learned how hard it was. I took some college class for a time, but it wasn’t for me. I am a novice guitar holder at best. You couldn’t pay me enough to participate in a veggie eating contest.

And this is confusing to me. It strikes me as odd that I gorge on crap but not on things that are inherently good for me. This leads me to believe that the things that are inherently good for me aren’t.

Besides, if my body’s natural rhythm is thrown off by a bag of carrots, maybe I shouldn’t be eating them. And that’s what I’m going to do.

Fueling my addictions is just that; fuel. And I need fuel to go…to couch and TV. What doesn’t kill me only makes me want more. Does anybody want to buy my guitar?

Fight Night

Ball Sport, Hate, Injury, The Future, Versus, kids No Responses »

Nov 262009

Nothing spells fun like a little MMA: man on man action. And nothing spells action better than my good friend, Travis Hollis. Hollis has been dishing out punches, kicks and grapples (a hybrid fruit consisting of an apple and a grape) to suspecting bystanders for as long as I’ve known him. His father has been his Mixed Martial Arts sensei since as long as they’ve known each other (before he was born). He represents Rocky Mountain Bad Boyz Caged Fighting and he is a sight to see.

What I’m here to report is that Travis Hollis is competing in Clash of The Titans 6; A Cage Fight, Saturday, December 5th at the Douglas County (Colorado) Fairgrounds. Never will you see so much fire and fury from a 155 pounder. Coming off of an upsetting TKO in a title bout back in September, Hollis is fired up and ready to reclaim his glory.

Whether you call it cage fighting, octagonal Tom-foolery, or Blood Sport, this artful display of brutality will surely delight even the most skeptical patrons. This battle of titanic proportions will certainly bring the crowd to its feet. So, bring grandma and the kids and you’re guaranteed a good time.

Check out Facebook for more event details and specials.

If you don’t believe me, just watch this (it gets good at marker 1:30)…

10 Reasons You Should Learn The Guitar

10 Reasons, work 2 Responses »

Nov 242009

There comes a time in every person’s life when he is asked one question: Would you rather have sex with your boss once or learn to play the guitar?

The mental acrobatics required to answer this question are taxing. In either case, your answer will result in a lifetime of suffering.

Would you rather...

On the one hand, you’ll be haunted by the sight and feel of skin that’s riddled with moles and sores and scars. Skin so dense with in pubic hair, that when you’re forced to run your fingers through it, the noxious smells of trapped coffee and cigarette breath escape; burning itself into your olfactory. Don’t forget about the sour tasting fluids that will inevitably stain your clothes you refuse to remove resulting in another “Monica Lewinski” incident.

On the other hand, however, you’ll be required to spend a few countless hours toiling and practicing a useless skill.

The answer is yours to make. But in case you need a little persuasion, here are 10 reasons that you should learn the guitar:

10. Biting your finger nails for fear of sexually pleasuring your boss has callused your finger tips.

9. You already burned $1000 when you bought a guitar years ago.

8. You’ll have a legitimate reason for playing with your nuts, neck and sound hole.

7. You’ve always wanted to learn but never had a reason to waste that much time.

6. The Asian kid on youtube is almost as good as you should be.

5. There’s finally a skill you can share with your kids that doesn’t involve pot (even though it probably does).

4. There’s that one Moby song you’ve always wanted to learn.

3. You realized that your passion making birdhouses was the gayest hobby ever.

2. You’ll probably get famous. And rich.

-And, finally-

1. It won’t be necessary for you to screw your boss as a result of a stupid, yet valid, “would you rather” question.

Hello World! Word As Hell: Take Two

Sales No Responses »

Nov 172009

Ah, sh*t, son! I moved the g*ddamn blog! We’re taking this hog up a notch. I’m gonna kick start your face with a boot full of fun. It’s not the kind of fun you get when you walk in on your parents making your brother. It’s the kind of fun you have when your parents walk in on you wasting your seed at the family computer. I’m talking masturbation. We all do it! So effin’ what?! This is the fun you get when your horse wins the big race and gets shot after breaking an arm. (Horse arm? Hell yeah!) If you are what you eat then your dog is a champion. Fun!!! This is gonna be the kind of fun you have when you cash a check or pop a gnarly zit. Did you hear that pop? That’s the kind of excitement you’ll have here. Take this thing called fun and cherish it. It’s not for everyone because it’s just for you. So come inside, but wear a condom and let’s get this thing started…again.

A Couple Of Jokes

Story No Responses »

Nov 172009

The Ol’ Boy called me today from his work van and said he was watching a guy trim his ear hair with a pair of scissors in his car. The Ol’ Boy said the guy wasn’t being very safe…he was clearing his fairy land hair forest, causing devastation to all the little hair nymphs and earwoks.

Ted P.’s parents thought their computer would catch a virus so they covered it with plastic.

My wife asked me why I spend so much time jerking off alone at the computer. She said that it would be sensual to masturbate with her and I said, “Every time I do that, you wake up screaming.”

I was at the store and I saw a guy happily buying his son some candy. Confused by the gesture, the kid looked at his mom and asked, “Mommy, what’s wrong with Daddy?” To which the mother replied, “Oh, he’s just sober.”

I put the trash out last night when I saw my rather large neighbor pull up to her house with take out food in her hands. ”Take out again?” I asked. And she replied, “Rrrrraaaaawwwwrrrr!!!!” Stupid fat bitch.

Do you refer to conjoined twins as one of those or two of that?

Oh, man. I got nothin’…

Increase In Gas Prices

Sales, Story, World's Worst 2 Responses »

Nov 162009

"With our Juggies full and our gas real cheap, GallonMart's savings are yours to keep"

Well, the yeas have it! According to a recent poll I cast last week, an overwhelming 67 percent of you wanted to hear about the increase in gas prices. That’s more than half of the people who voted! Can you believe it? I can…’t.

Our incredible yet believable story begins where any true story begins; at a store. This isn’t just any store, though. This is the GallonMart off 104th. In case you don’t know, the GallonMart is a warehouse superstore where all products are sold by the gallon. It’s no Costco or Sam’s Club because it’s worse; free samples are in gallon increments and it’s always stuff you’d never consume like Pork Points and Lye Milk. Management at the GallonMart has its employees empty prepackaged consumable items into recycled gallon jugs known as Juggies. The store apparently saves money this way because of the huge savings offered from manufacturers for buying in bulk.

Although it’s not true, GallonMart also claims to have the largest assortment of crap in gallon form on the planet. They are so proud of this fact, that their slogan reads: “If we don’t have it in a Juggie, we’ll send you to Mars.” The slogan is then followed by a disclaimer that argues all claims of interplanetary travel will not hold up in a court of law.

However bizarre the store’s concept, it’s the business model that’s really interesting. Since GallonMart guarantees the lowest wholesale prices on obsolete items like Robert Milsap’s Malt Flavored Turkey Burst, Ibuprofiend Pain Reliever (highly addictive; popular with teenagers), and Red Bull Elephant Energy Drank, it has a difficult time meeting their projected profit margins. Can you honestly tell me who in their right mind is going to buy a gallon of Elephant Drank? Ech, gross!

To offset costs, however, they sell one product that people absolutely need: gasoline. GallonMart has recently built a filling station. They figure that people who actually stop in and shop are happy to fill up their cars with seemingly discounted gas. Even though GallonMart’s marketing strategies would suggest otherwise, their gas is not discounted at all.

GallonMart’s gasoline prices are off the chart. It averages fifteen cents more per gallon than that of the next highest purveyor of fuel. What’s worse, is that the self-filling stations are vending machines stocked with Juggies full of gas. Forget pumping your own gas. As the customer, you’re expected to “Pour yourself an old one (they play the age of fossil fuels on the old adage ‘pour a cold one’)”. Surprisingly, people are lining up around the block as a result of the unique filling methods and supposed convenience and reduced prices. They feel it’s kitschy and fun. And in order to recoup lost business, other gas stations are raising prices.

Hopefully, like most things, this is just a passing fad. If it is not a fad, then this is my warning to you people: stop pouring your gas! It’s expensive and wrong. It’s costing this community a lot of money. Additionally, you’re being lied to. If you’re going to shop at GallonMart, please buy other essentials like Gallon-O-Tripe or Rubber Wash and stay away from the gas. It’s watered down, anyway.

This message brought to you by the BBB (big bawling bitch).

Nicknames

Story No Responses »

Nov 132009

Yesterday I was riding in a car with my friends Ty and Chris. Everyone knows Ty and has called him Tito since high school. One time his dad f*cked up and called him T-Bone. Luckily it never stuck. In college, Ty proclaimed himself as the Spoon and then eventually the Mayor. This came after he Youtubed three hours of old McDonald’s commercials featuring Mayor McCheese. He loved it. These days, I call him Ty D but he prefers T. Jackson or The Hate F*ck (it was his facebook name until it was censored) or The Ol’ Boy. Whatever you call him, he is a lovely and fair skinned gentleman.

Chris, who was also in the car, was once known as Dolph Lundgren after his uncanny resemblance to the Siberian Bull from the movie Rocky IV. Recently and unknowingly he was nicknamed Carrots by my wife, J-Dubs. J-Dubs has been called Wooten or Hot Pants and J Maz. She has a myriad of friends like Skirt Steak and Droopy Nipple. Droopy Nipple used to work at Applebee’s where she rated highest in customer satisfaction. Apparently, her tips reflected her performance and she became known as Boosty Tipple or BT for short which evolved into Burny Tits and then Swink.

My other friend is Sizzle Bok who dressed as a Mexican named Johnny Gomez for a costume party. My brother is Milhouse, Milkill, Milshoe, Shoe, Shoehouse, Millie and, from a misspelling on his high school letter jacket, Millhouse. I know Jim Jam and Rik. I have a friend Jake the Snake. One named J. Pa. and Blum (sounds like bloom). Blum hangs out with Nelson and Steve B. Gary is one. Teens is another. Goldy, Chesty and Slitty Wrists. S Mas and his son, X Mas. J Leezy for sheezy. Drary. The Boss, Champ or Curty. Petey and Wheels and Lamby Poo. Jay Nev. Teddy Po. I saw J.R. Swish on TV. Oh, and for me…they call me Wolsamnoraa (not really, though) which is part Russian and, as I found out today from my mother and her husband, Papa Paul, part French which translates as Special Boy. And that’s all I can think of right now. Did I miss one? Fill me in.

This is where I got the name McStainy. My dry cleaner, Mr. Wong, is such a goof.

Look At This Damn Cat

Animal, Life Lessons, Tookie 8 Responses »

Nov 102009

This is how Tookie gets home on the third floor of a condo building. What’s weird is he goes outside all the time but I’ve never seen him come in until today.

He does it all of the time, once with a dead rabbit in his mouth

Once he gets to my patio he comes inside through a dog door. The cat weighs almost 20 pounds…This is amazing to me.

You Know Me

Life Lessons 5 Responses »

Nov 102009

I’m one of those guys that likes to make lasting impression. It’s the main reason for my lack of tact and complete disregard for prudence. Talk of coat hanger abortions, dead hookers, and pants that smell like horseback rides are all part of making my image last. As much as I love storytelling, I have to admit that the effort I spend lodging myself deep within you is multidimensional. One of my favorite memory makers is pictures. In this digital day and age, everyone wants to capture memories 377 KB at a time. Pictures are just as easy to delete as they are to frame bedside.

But making a great picture takes time and coordination; all skills that I possess and everyone else lacks. So, when the perfect moment needs to be captured who, you may ask, do people turn to for the best snapshots? Well, me, of course. But it’s more than that. I am the two-for-one guy. In an attempt to forever captivate the attention of any person, I will shoot a picture of that person and then one of me. If that person feels the need to delete my photo, I will sneak into the background/foreground of a carefully orchestrated scene. Here are a few times when I wasn’t deleted from other people’s cameras (thanks for the memories)…

Click to play this Smilebox postcard: You Know Me

Make a Smilebox postcard

10 Reasons You're Here

10 Reasons No Responses »

Nov 062009

This takes the phrase "baby dumps" to a whole new level.

Sometimes you wake up in a dingy hotel room soaked in hooker juices and vomit and you wonder, “How in the world did I get here?” While this is a valid question, the word “here” reaches above and beyond your current predicament. The mere fact that you exist at all is interesting in itself. These 10 reasons explain the lucky fortunes that befell you on your road to being “here” (where ever that may be):

10. Your father was spreading his seed during the War.

9. Your mother was a whore.

8. The gentleman operating the coat-hanger apparatus botched the abortion.

7. You chewed threw the garbage bag that was to be your casket and survived on the contents of a China man’s dumpster.

6. Until your mid-teens, you were raised by a small team of success driven rats.

5. You earned a decent wage soliciting sex from bar hopping youngsters who struck out during regular bar business hours.

4. Using the lessons taught to you by your rat kin, you turned your hard earned money into drugs and nesting materials.

3. On a quest to stardom and fame, you sought a career as a Hollywood actor (possibly to find your real parents?).

2. Unknowingly, you were cast in the movie “Saw VIII: Jigsaw’s Outtakes–Sluts, Gays, and Krab Cakes”.

-And, Finally-

1. Years of smoking methamphetamine have left you toothless, talentless, and desperate. The mob takes care of you in the only way the mob can; this time, however, you are unable to gnaw your way through the garbage bag that is to be your final resting place.

Do you feel that I may have missed a detail in your coming to be? Please feel free to share in the comment section…

Losing My Pills

Life Lessons, Poop Related 8 Responses »

Nov 042009

"Oh great! Now the pills are all poopy, hun!"

I tend to error on the side of caution. When I step out in the rain, I bring a wooden umbrella. When I fart in the sheets I don’t wiggle around afterward. So it troubles me to tell you and the rest of the world that I’m frickin crazy. I’m not crazy like gang bang my virgin asshole and cum on my face with you and twenty-eight of your closest associates. My friend did that once; that sh*t is nuts and now I she can’t ride a bicycle. I’m not even homeless people crazy or cat-lady crazy.

No, my problem is that I am starting to losing my mind. It started a few months ago. Mentally, things just didn’t seem right. I was having hallucinations and fondling my poops in the toilet. I’ve never done that stuff that much. Just to make sure that I was really going mental, I gave it a couple of months. Similar to your Alzheimer stricken grandfather, I’d have good days and bad days (I got gang banged, remember?). The test worked. After three months, I figured out that I hadn’t been feeling right.

I told my wife and she confirmed my senility and suggested/demanded that I seek help. I did. I went to a doctor and she gave me some pills and advice…”don’t take all the pills at once.” It was funny, you had to be there. I began taking the pills just the other day when I lashed out and had a huge fight with my wife. She was so angry and frustrated with my new crazy behavior that she grabbed my pills and flushed them all down the toilet (against the doctor’s wishes, no less). Today, I’m without my pills and the toilet has been vomiting all night and I can’t stop fondling the poopies that come out. I need assistance. I’m sick! Sick I tells ya’!

Do you think I’m crazy? This stuff has really been happening. What do you think I should do? Help, please.

What Up, G?!

Life Lessons 1 Response »

Nov 032009

This was me at a young evolutionary age

I was a kid for a while. That was a rough time for me. I grew up in a tough neighborhood near a Sizzler. The kids in my neighborhood were violent and they wanted me to join their gang. They made me do all sorts of gangster things like steal cigarettes from my parents.

I was told if I wanted to join the gang, I had to build a hideout. I used all of my allowance to build a pillow fort in my basement. I used thumb tacks to keep the sheets pinned to the wall. It was hard-core. They told me that if I wanted to join their gang, I’d have to commit a crime. “I stole a car,” I said. Lying was the crime. I was in the gang.

I was slanging drugs and banging thugs. I held my Nerf suction cup dart pistol with a sideways gangster grip. It was tight…the grip, I mean; I didn’t want to lose the gun. I was the original, genuine thug; an OG…T. I didn’t even own a belt so my pants would always sag gangsterly (the point at which they would fall off).

One day, a Catholic priest called me and said it was time to hang it up and cut the crap. I said that my gangster friends would do harm unto me and my sheet fort if I left. He offered me full protection in his house of worship and a job at the Sizzler.

The priest was banging, alright; banging all the boys. I quit the gang. They said they were going to miss me and that they were sad to see me go. To tell you the truth, I miss them, I miss them a lot. Word to your brother.

God Loves Gays And You Should, Too

Ball Sport, Life Lessons No Responses »

Nov 022009

The ultimate sign that some all-knowing Godish being/sea monster exists is evident in the concept of fate. Fate says that your path is chosen for you ahead of time. There’s no evidence against it, my friend. You will be born and die and what lies between is filler. If you’re a crazy person, the filler might be intermittent murdering sprees and jail time. If you’re ambitious, your life’s filler might be a rise to power followed by jail time. And likewise, if you’re gay, you’re going to have filler, too. Granted a gay person’s filler is more likely to include a butt full of c*ck and then jail time, but the path is predetermined just the same. There is nothing wrong with that. Discovering the person that you are is a feat that most people will never accomplish. Realizing, accepting and living your designed path despite an onslaught of social criticism is even more remarkable. Gay people have shown true courage. Uncovering their true nature takes a lot of balls. In some cases, two sets or more. For that, I commend you, gay people. You can take a licking and keep on pticking. You show what the rest of us how hard it can be to conquer your ambitions in the thickness of adversity. Gays have been granted the biggest challenge and over cumming it is one that the-one-you-call-God can appreciate. After all, you’re doing his dirty work. I couldn’t be prouder. Good job.

What Day Is It?

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