SomethingSoWrong

Hockey. I’ve mentioned before how much I love the sport, haven’t I? Oh, I’m sure I have…perhaps you didn’t read that blog? You say that you check every day for a new post and have been disappointed lately? Oh, I’m sorry about that–work and whatnot, eh? At any rate, back to hockey. The Stars, you know, have a comfortable lead in the Pacific Division, so we’ll be heading to the playoffs. In fact, we play division rival the Mighty Ducks of Anaheim tonight. We played them last Monday as well, if you’ll remember. Knowing that I was a hockey fan, the CEO of my company gave me tickets a few rows back from the glass. Pretty sweet…Shank and I were both grateful for the tickets.

Then came Friday, which is, if you’ll remember, the last day of the work week. Dallas was playing the Blackhawks that night…unfortunately, we didn’t seem to have tickets for said game. Then my CEO sauntered over to my humble cube.

“So, you have tickets for tonights’ game?” he asked, causing me to grow excited at the prospect of more free tickets.

“Unfortunately, no,” I replied.

“Good,” said my CEO as he produced an envelope and handed it to me, “then you should have no problem using these…”

In glorious anticipation I looked at the label on the envelope…only to find they were tickets to that night’s Texas Tornado game.

What a dick…

…he roundhouse kicks the dirt out of them…

The Magical Grid of Bad Emo Hair:

More here.

Good thing it’s just Miller Lite…

There’s something inherently creepy about this photo…

As you may or may not know, I’m a graduate of Texas A&M. And Texas A&M has never been much of a basketball powerhouse, so imagine my surprise when we beat arch-rival Texas the other night 46-43 on a last second three-pointer from Acie Law.

But what really grabbed my attention, and that of most of the people in the Brazos Valley, was this pic from Thursday’s Bryan-College Station Eagle:

Is that or is that not Texas guard Daniel Gibson’s “unit”? I don’t know…it looks like it could be, but it’s too caucasian-y. Unless, you know, maybe he masturbates using some kind of lube with a bleaching agent in it. It’s certainly the right size for a black guy…

At any rate, the paper insist it’s an “optical illusion”, but I’m not convinced…

The specific section of the picture in question showed nothing more than the white inside liner of the player’s uniform. The color was distorted for a variety of reasons, primarily because of the angle at which the picture was taken, the lighting, orange color of the uniform on the left pant leg reflecting up into the groin area, and the specific moment that was captured.

Right…

So, yeah, I’m a lazy bastard. No original content in a while…

That’s okay, we’re taking a week off so ‘Shank and I can go to Ontario, so hopefully we’ll get some blogging material while we’re there.

Before we go, though, I thought I’d leave you with a list of search terms that have recently led people to this page.

It’s okay, I’m on the pill
Catholic Lint
three hats sand mindbender
pranks of fiancee
swimming equitment
colonel sanders slave owner
meat eating
ash wednesday bracelet
free stationery dog paw prints
drawerings of aleins
ford cli-taurus
buy used panties
can you get sick from house centipedes
who invented mayonnaise
tanuki suit balls
dirty sanchez camel toe

I’m gonna go ahead and step in for the lazy-ass ‘Shank…

One day three fishermen were out in a boat in the Gulf of Mexico. They had not caught a thing all day when suddenly, one of the fishermen’s poles started jerking. He grabbed it and started reeling in his line and shouting, “I got something! I got something!”

He had caught a nice fish, about ten inches long. The fishermen were about to revel in his accomplishment when the fish shook the hook out of his mouth and transformed into a being, half man and half fish, sporting a crown and holding a trident.

“Who are you?” said the frightened fisherman who had caught him.

“I AM NEPTUNE, GOD OF THE SEA, AND I AM GOING TO PUT A CURSE ON YOU LOWLY MORTALS! BEFORE YOU LEAVE HERE TODAY YOUR BOAT WILL SPRING A DOZEN LEAKS! … NO, MAKE THAT A DOZEN AND A HALF!”

And with that, he dove back into the waters. As soon as he was gone, the fishermen’s boat had sprung so many leaks they were forced to swim to shore.

To this day, they never forgot Neptune’s eighteen-hole Gulf curse.