To begin, I must apologize for not being drunk when writing this post. I am however loopy from being bored out of my mind and not getting my 14 hours of daily beauty rest for the past couple of weeks.
To understand my story, it is important to know where I came from. I derive from a long line of Irish immortals, popularly know as the "Uplanders." A couple of my notable ancestors are Fox Mcloud, and William Wallface, who fought the British to free the British from the terrible oppression of the British. We all know that story, and sadly Wallface was executed by the British for being British. You may ask yourself, how was he executed if he was immortal? Well stupid, a few generations before William, my family lost it's immortality because the gods did not appreciate having their sacrifices pooped on. Who knew? Anyways, not being immortal is not so bad, every day is more precious and all that shit, plus my legend will live on forever.
It all started one fateful day when my green eclipse with a paint job done by a retard topped out at only 140. Shit! I got Harry to hook me up with a couple of the big bottles of NOS, and I was off to the races. After standing beside my car for a few hours in a California racing alley and being called extremely racist terms like snowman, I met the big dog. His name was Ben Gasoline, and I had to throw up my pink slip to get in a race with him. He won, but I almost had him! He then schooled me by saying something about inches and miles, but winning is winning. I had to give up the car, and right at that moment, the cops busted up the party. I was instantly recognized because of my many arrest warrants out for being a fucking ninja.
I was sentenced to 459,682 consecutive life sentences for my crimes, but I soon was presented with an opportunity to clear my name. The government had detected a large alien fleet headed our way by using their fancy radar and listening to REM. They needed my help. I was to take an advanced pilot training course, and lead the attack on the extraterrestrial foes. I reluctantly agreed, and started training in the course commonly know as Top Gun. My instructor was some broad name Kelly McAverage. I know, a chick instructing an elite group of badasses sounds far fetched, but trust me, all this happened. Oh yeah, Kelly and I totally got it on to 80's music because she was turned on by my risk taking style of charisma. My attitude did not go along well with everybody, however, and it was not until graduation when my nemesis, Hal Killmenow, finally accepted me as his wingman.
The attack had been planned and we were ready to launch. The government had acquired an enemy vessel that crashed into the World Trade Center in 2001 (alien terrorists were also involved in case you don't read the news). I was to infiltrate the alien mothership, and plant a virus in its control systems to kill all those slimy fuckers. Myself, that guy from Jurassic Park and The Fly, and about 300 Spartans from the HALO games flew up to the mothership, but we crashed soon after entry. A warm breeze rolled in and made me jizz in my pants, sorry guys. We all emerged from the wreckage unharmed to see 9 billion alien warriors ready to attack. We quickly bolted for the nearest narrow canyon to defend ourselves (in case you didn't know, the inside of alien motherships looks like the landscape of ancient Greece). After weeks of sexy, slow-motion battle, enough blood and goo was shed to fill the oceans three times over. Only myself and the alien leader, Herpes, remained.
Herpes was an elite alien warrior, as he possessed a laser cannon on his shoulder, invisibility powers, and heat vision. To counter his sight advantage, I covered myself in mud. Whilst he was adjusting to not being able to see me, I constructed a trap made of hundreds of alien dicks (they're fucking sharp!). I then lured Herpes into the trap by running around and screaming, "kill me, I'm here!" in an Austrian accent. The trap worked and Herpes died a horrible death by being sodomized by his own kind many times over. I managed to find the alien control center, and located the self-destruct button (I guess a big red button really is universal for self-destruct, stupid aliens). Narrowly escaping the craft in an escape pod, I had saved the galaxy from sure destruction.
Expecting to return a hero, I was dismayed to find only two weak-minded government agents waiting at my landing sight. Like idiots, they explained the governments plan to me. I was to be killed, and all traces of the incident were to be covered up. Luckily, I knew a few Jedi mind tricks, and told the agents that I was not the droids they were looking for. I made my way to the airport at Las Eisley, where I found a renegade, smuggling pilot named Juan Solo. Juan, his first mate, Masticatie, and I became great friends blowing up Death Stars and fighting over my sister.
Nowadays, we run around murdering government agents because God told us to. Masticatie used to be a package boy for many of the agents, so he knows where they live and who they're fucking! Very advantageous. There is one FBI agent who is getting close to us. It shouldn't be a problem though, because he is a fan of our cause, and he is usually to busy screwing faggy asian dudes to actually catch us.
What lies next in my great adventure is still a mystery... Maybe one day, I will command a starship and defeat the evil race of Formulans and Dingdongs, or save the world from zombies and robots who want to use humans as batteries. Whatever may lie on the horizon, on thing surely is true, I'm fucking awesome!
Friday, April 13, 2012
Friday, March 30, 2012
High School Comparisons
To those of you who may have met me in only the past few years, this may be a surprise to you. In high school, I was that almost nameless guy with close to zero confidence, who just slept in class and did jack shit else. The funny part is, I got shitty grades in english class because I had not yet realized my awesome potential of being a clever, witty, super bomb-ass ladies man. (laugh all you want dick hats, I rule, and write like a fucking genius!)
The point of this post is, if I could do it all over again, I would truly learn the lessons taught to us by Saved by the Bell, and rock that shit. If I had to do it all over again, for lack of an even more extreme character, I would be Zach Morris. He obviously was the alpha male of the show, yet he also had a genuine caring side that made him so likable to everybody (like me!). His defining characteristic, besides his haircut and good looks, was pure confidence. His level of confidence, without generic asshole cockiness, is what totally landed him the ideal high school relationship; an on and off again with the hottest cheerleader in town, Kelly Kapowski (although she turned out to be a semi-fatty as show in White Collar.)
Now my confidence level has grown exponentially over the past few years because of several reasons. I now know that I am a sexy piece of man meat, I joined the fucking Marines, and I now know that there is no one or nothing that can hold me back from getting what I desire. Even as this confidence was still slowly developing, say 4 years ago, I had high school girls drooling over my sexy ass; and yes my ass is very sexy, especially naked. Nowadays, if I was attracted to girls over the age of 14, the local high schools would be in fucking trouble!
The point of all this rambling tipsy bullshit is, if you are a man and you want something, fucking take it! If you live by that motto, the whole world is fucking yours. You may say that Kevin, you are an average guy who hasn't taken shit for cock, so what the fuck are you talking about? Well to that I would say, 1. Fuck you, and 2. My morality and standards prevent me from having everything I desire. I will post on this as soon as I learn how to get rid of this damn conscience.
I know I set out to compare and contrast myself now and whatever the fuck I was in high school, and it turned out to be a bunch of rambling bullhonky. Shit happens. If you don't like it, then don't buy my book when it never comes out because I don't have that much patience.
I should write a fucking book. Topics for this project would be appreciated in the comments, go!
The point of this post is, if I could do it all over again, I would truly learn the lessons taught to us by Saved by the Bell, and rock that shit. If I had to do it all over again, for lack of an even more extreme character, I would be Zach Morris. He obviously was the alpha male of the show, yet he also had a genuine caring side that made him so likable to everybody (like me!). His defining characteristic, besides his haircut and good looks, was pure confidence. His level of confidence, without generic asshole cockiness, is what totally landed him the ideal high school relationship; an on and off again with the hottest cheerleader in town, Kelly Kapowski (although she turned out to be a semi-fatty as show in White Collar.)
Now my confidence level has grown exponentially over the past few years because of several reasons. I now know that I am a sexy piece of man meat, I joined the fucking Marines, and I now know that there is no one or nothing that can hold me back from getting what I desire. Even as this confidence was still slowly developing, say 4 years ago, I had high school girls drooling over my sexy ass; and yes my ass is very sexy, especially naked. Nowadays, if I was attracted to girls over the age of 14, the local high schools would be in fucking trouble!
The point of all this rambling tipsy bullshit is, if you are a man and you want something, fucking take it! If you live by that motto, the whole world is fucking yours. You may say that Kevin, you are an average guy who hasn't taken shit for cock, so what the fuck are you talking about? Well to that I would say, 1. Fuck you, and 2. My morality and standards prevent me from having everything I desire. I will post on this as soon as I learn how to get rid of this damn conscience.
I know I set out to compare and contrast myself now and whatever the fuck I was in high school, and it turned out to be a bunch of rambling bullhonky. Shit happens. If you don't like it, then don't buy my book when it never comes out because I don't have that much patience.
I should write a fucking book. Topics for this project would be appreciated in the comments, go!
Friday, March 23, 2012
Time Travel
By time travel, I do not mean installing a flux capacitor on my Delorean. I actually am talking about that amazing phenomenon that happens when you drink too much whiskey. Now some of you naysayers may say, "Kevin, drinking that much is bad for you." I would agree if my liver didn't happen to be a fucking trooper. Since it is, fuck you in the nicest way possible.
The best way to define my kind of time traveling would be to define it as the skipping of memories and partial recognition of events that occurred in a night of binge drinking. A sane person may think of this as a bad thing, but then again, who the fuck listens to a sane person. Time traveling is truly an art. It gives you the ability to remember the good parts of a night, and subconsciously ignore the bad parts. It also makes you feel like you are a part of CSI the next morning.
For example: You may remember pulling your pants down at a club. You then ask yourself, "why would I do such a thing?" You then deduce that you must have been talking to a very hot chick with tattoos on her boobies who wanted to see if your penis was as big as you were bragging. You then realize that you were probably increasing your penis size by 400% by saying that it was 8 inches, so you instead decided to just show her the "brain." This in turn must have been the cause of the slight memory you have of a woman running away in terror and amusement.
That would seem to infer that the semen stain on your pants came from simple masturbation with tears as lubricant from the embarrassing events that occurred at the club. But wait! We forgot about the long red hair that was stuck in your zipper! Logically, there must have been some slutty redhead that was amused by your being rejected. She must have felt pity on you, and have given you an awesome and regret-filled bj. Case closed. Either that or your dick tried to strangle itself with a tiny piece of red rope. No, we're going with the one where a girl actually touched your wiener.
Now tell me that deciding to drink what society would call "too much" was a bad idea. How else would you get the satisfaction of thinking you got semi-laid and solving a fucking mystery? The way I see it, I got two choices y'all; pull over the car, or bounce on the double put the pedal to the floor. Now I ain't tryin' to see no hollywood chase with Jake, so I choose the road less traveled and decide that we got fucking laid last night!
In conclusion, if you feel me, throw your damn hands up. Word to your mother, and good will towards men (not women).
The best way to define my kind of time traveling would be to define it as the skipping of memories and partial recognition of events that occurred in a night of binge drinking. A sane person may think of this as a bad thing, but then again, who the fuck listens to a sane person. Time traveling is truly an art. It gives you the ability to remember the good parts of a night, and subconsciously ignore the bad parts. It also makes you feel like you are a part of CSI the next morning.
For example: You may remember pulling your pants down at a club. You then ask yourself, "why would I do such a thing?" You then deduce that you must have been talking to a very hot chick with tattoos on her boobies who wanted to see if your penis was as big as you were bragging. You then realize that you were probably increasing your penis size by 400% by saying that it was 8 inches, so you instead decided to just show her the "brain." This in turn must have been the cause of the slight memory you have of a woman running away in terror and amusement.
That would seem to infer that the semen stain on your pants came from simple masturbation with tears as lubricant from the embarrassing events that occurred at the club. But wait! We forgot about the long red hair that was stuck in your zipper! Logically, there must have been some slutty redhead that was amused by your being rejected. She must have felt pity on you, and have given you an awesome and regret-filled bj. Case closed. Either that or your dick tried to strangle itself with a tiny piece of red rope. No, we're going with the one where a girl actually touched your wiener.
Now tell me that deciding to drink what society would call "too much" was a bad idea. How else would you get the satisfaction of thinking you got semi-laid and solving a fucking mystery? The way I see it, I got two choices y'all; pull over the car, or bounce on the double put the pedal to the floor. Now I ain't tryin' to see no hollywood chase with Jake, so I choose the road less traveled and decide that we got fucking laid last night!
In conclusion, if you feel me, throw your damn hands up. Word to your mother, and good will towards men (not women).
Friday, February 17, 2012
lets fucking do it
So, I have the name of this blog as tits and tats 69, let's fucking write something deserving of that title.
As Anberlin would say, I'm too old to know, too young to care. Eversincehence, this blog may not make sense but it comes straight from the heart. I'll be fucking honest. I am looking for someone; someone who makes my heart race and my dick hard at the same time. Let me describe this woman for you. She has at least C-cup tits, a rock-and-roll personality, tattoos in naughty places, and a vagine ready for the plundering, by me, of course.
Now I know that men have their sort of "periods," but this is not what I'm talking about. It is true that sometimes nerds like the cool ass faggots in bYd can whoop that ass of the semi-popular kids in FFZ in all competitions except midget fighting, but later in life we all are the same. This sameness creates a brotherhood that can only be rivaled by alcohol, drugs, or common decency. In other words, we are all the same. If you cannot understand this, then fuck you bitch, because you are not a person with feelings.
I know this may intercede one of my older posts, but feelings and relationships of any kind from fucking high school sometimes do mean shit. I love all you fuckers I had any type of emotional response towards in high school, except you fucking nameless douchebag who will never read this. (BTW if you are that nameless douchebag, then yes, I did fuck your mother while your father watched via security cam two weeks later.) The point of this blog is, all of you who have touched my life, I fucking love you; from the so called "loser" who has nothing better to do than read this, to the hot ass babe who wastes her precious time reading this shiza, I love you all. Thank you for being a part of my life, and I wish you all the best in life, kinda like how I will marry the hottest woman alive and have pulitzer, acadamy, and grammy award winning fucked up children. Peace out bitches!!!!
Sunday, January 1, 2012
This is how we do ittttttttt................
This one goes out to the tweeting peeps who will not let my phone stop ringing...
There are many different ways to define "game." Therefore, this post will be about actions and sayings that show absolutely no "game."
1. Leaving a bar/club before the smooth lines you planted into a girl's cerebrum have had time to develop into a beautiful flower, which you then proceed to fuck.
2. Saying shit like, "although you are rocking it, that girl isn't that hot." If you are sober enough to form that kind of opinion, you do not rate a fucking opinion. Fact.
3. Anyone who does not fist pump and jump up and down to a recognizable song with a bad ass beat. ie. bon jovi, project pat, john mayer, or the backsteet boys
4. Sometimes chicks are all over your ass, and the music is loud, but you still must bust out a crazy loud fart in order to see which chick is really down with the shit you plan on doing to her later on in the evening. Yes, she may get pink eye, but she is going to have so many orgasms in the process.
5. I know this makes no goddamn sense with the rest of the post, but what the hell happened to cougars? A couple years ago they were ripe for the picking, but now it seems that they all have some stupid ass commitment to a husband or baby's daddy. It's the last fucking new year's that any of is going to see because the fucking world is going to end; fucking fuck some random sexy dude oozing with confidence!!!! Seriously, why the hell is this so much harder than it was a few decades ago? (And oh yeah, I know. In 1986 I was sucking on titties and feeling up vajajays like it was nobody's beeswax.)
6. This blog better be the biggest hashtag on twitter since Kim Kardashian bought her asscheeks on ebay or I will kill a motha fucka. Yes, that means your dad is going down, biatch!
There are many different ways to define "game." Therefore, this post will be about actions and sayings that show absolutely no "game."
1. Leaving a bar/club before the smooth lines you planted into a girl's cerebrum have had time to develop into a beautiful flower, which you then proceed to fuck.
2. Saying shit like, "although you are rocking it, that girl isn't that hot." If you are sober enough to form that kind of opinion, you do not rate a fucking opinion. Fact.
3. Anyone who does not fist pump and jump up and down to a recognizable song with a bad ass beat. ie. bon jovi, project pat, john mayer, or the backsteet boys
4. Sometimes chicks are all over your ass, and the music is loud, but you still must bust out a crazy loud fart in order to see which chick is really down with the shit you plan on doing to her later on in the evening. Yes, she may get pink eye, but she is going to have so many orgasms in the process.
5. I know this makes no goddamn sense with the rest of the post, but what the hell happened to cougars? A couple years ago they were ripe for the picking, but now it seems that they all have some stupid ass commitment to a husband or baby's daddy. It's the last fucking new year's that any of is going to see because the fucking world is going to end; fucking fuck some random sexy dude oozing with confidence!!!! Seriously, why the hell is this so much harder than it was a few decades ago? (And oh yeah, I know. In 1986 I was sucking on titties and feeling up vajajays like it was nobody's beeswax.)
6. This blog better be the biggest hashtag on twitter since Kim Kardashian bought her asscheeks on ebay or I will kill a motha fucka. Yes, that means your dad is going down, biatch!
Monday, December 12, 2011
Top 5's
Note: These listings are not necessarily in ranked order.
Top 5 Celebrities I Would Bang
Megan Fox - Duh.
Rihanna - Just make the hair somewhat normal, and I am all in.
Brooklyn Decker - She looks like that and she's only 24! Seriously?
Lindsay Lohan - So she's gone to jail for stealing diamond necklaces and stuff, but so did Jesus if I recall correctly. As long as she hasn't done blow in the past few hours, game on.
Avril Lavigne - Something about a girl I loved in high school who has Fuck tattooed on her side just does it for me.
Top 5 Celebrities I Would Marry
Kate Beckinsale - Hot vampire wife who looks even better in pajama shorts like in Click.
Rachel McAdams - Rachel McWifewife. nuff said.
Natalie Portman - I have been in love with her even since that alien monster tore her shirt in Attack of the Clones. Then when she rapped about shoving her foot down my throat until my shit's in her shoe, I lost it. I will happily pay for her dry cleaning for the rest of my life.
Scarlett Johansson - I really don't care if she's crazy and dumped Ryan Reynolds. His loss, my gain, her upgrade.
Zooey Deschanel - I really can't explain this one, but Zooey, I do.
Top 5 Celebrities You Might Call Me Crazy for, But I Want Nothing to Do With
Kim Kardashian - Yeah she's hot, but not the hottest woman ever like I hear so much. Maybe if she had her vocal chords removed we would talk. Haha, I crack myself up.
Taylor Swift - Something about her face makes me think she always just got done sucking on a lemon. Also, I would not want to have to break up with her and have her write a song entitled, "Kevin is an Asshole."
Anne Hathaway - I don't get anyone who likes her. She is funny looking with flabby legs.
Gisele Bündchen - She is super hot, but I don't think I have it in me to spend time with a supermodel outside of the bedroom and not beat the living shit out of her.
Demi Moore - You old, bitch!
Just so all you hot celebrities reading this are not confused, I may be willing to move you from the bang to marry list or vise versa, so do not be too discouraged. Also, they were not top 10 lists, so if you didn't make the cut, I may still be willing to settle.
Top 5 Celebrities I Would Bang
Megan Fox - Duh.
Rihanna - Just make the hair somewhat normal, and I am all in.
Brooklyn Decker - She looks like that and she's only 24! Seriously?
Lindsay Lohan - So she's gone to jail for stealing diamond necklaces and stuff, but so did Jesus if I recall correctly. As long as she hasn't done blow in the past few hours, game on.
Avril Lavigne - Something about a girl I loved in high school who has Fuck tattooed on her side just does it for me.
Top 5 Celebrities I Would Marry
Kate Beckinsale - Hot vampire wife who looks even better in pajama shorts like in Click.
Rachel McAdams - Rachel McWifewife. nuff said.
Natalie Portman - I have been in love with her even since that alien monster tore her shirt in Attack of the Clones. Then when she rapped about shoving her foot down my throat until my shit's in her shoe, I lost it. I will happily pay for her dry cleaning for the rest of my life.
Scarlett Johansson - I really don't care if she's crazy and dumped Ryan Reynolds. His loss, my gain, her upgrade.
Zooey Deschanel - I really can't explain this one, but Zooey, I do.
Top 5 Celebrities You Might Call Me Crazy for, But I Want Nothing to Do With
Kim Kardashian - Yeah she's hot, but not the hottest woman ever like I hear so much. Maybe if she had her vocal chords removed we would talk. Haha, I crack myself up.
Taylor Swift - Something about her face makes me think she always just got done sucking on a lemon. Also, I would not want to have to break up with her and have her write a song entitled, "Kevin is an Asshole."
Anne Hathaway - I don't get anyone who likes her. She is funny looking with flabby legs.
Gisele Bündchen - She is super hot, but I don't think I have it in me to spend time with a supermodel outside of the bedroom and not beat the living shit out of her.
Demi Moore - You old, bitch!
Just so all you hot celebrities reading this are not confused, I may be willing to move you from the bang to marry list or vise versa, so do not be too discouraged. Also, they were not top 10 lists, so if you didn't make the cut, I may still be willing to settle.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Bro Translations
We all know that women say one thing, and mean something completely different all the time. As Bros, we usually say exactly what we mean, but there are a few exceptions. Women do this in order to test people or just because they are bat shit crazy. It is much harder to tell why a man might say one thing and mean another, so I came up with a list of phrases and their translations to explain why a bro might say the things he does.
Phrase: Just leave me bro!
Translation: This bro may be getting attacked by zombies and selflessly telling the rest of the group to save themselves. In this case, save the bro if possible, if not, honor his sacrifice. Also, an inebriated bro might say this while his bros are trying to leave the strip club because he has been blinded by an attractive shot girl with his favorite drinks, a large rack, and a habit of rubbing his head and giving him neck massages. In this case, it is the other bro's responsibility to recognize the situation and take the bro away for the sake of his wallet.
Phrase: Save me bro!
Translation: I'm a little bitch and cannot get out of this situation under my own power; leave my pansy ass.
Phrase: No, of course you don't look fat in that (blank).
Translation: Bitch, enough with your insecurities. Obviously you are attractive enough to be seen in my company, and that should be enough to satisfy you. Shut the hell up, just shut up.
Phrase: Come at me, bro!
Translation: I want to look tough in front of some chicks, but I really don't want to fight. If I did, I would just walk up to you with my chest extended and beat your fucking face in.
Phrase: I don't care.
Translation: I really don't give a shit. If I had an opinion I would tell you, because I am a man, damn it. Make a fucking decision already.
Phrase: I love you.
Translation: Making the sex with you is awesome, and you are a cool enough chick to hang out with. We've been together for a while, and I feel like if I don't say this I won't get laid as much. Oh yeah, feelings and stuff too.
Phrase: Damn that girl is hot, but I'm not gonna go talk to her. You do it.
Translation 1: I must have just come from the beach, because there is sand all up in my vagina.
Translation 2: I need a triple shot to refill my confidence tanks.
Phrase: Just leave me bro!
Translation: This bro may be getting attacked by zombies and selflessly telling the rest of the group to save themselves. In this case, save the bro if possible, if not, honor his sacrifice. Also, an inebriated bro might say this while his bros are trying to leave the strip club because he has been blinded by an attractive shot girl with his favorite drinks, a large rack, and a habit of rubbing his head and giving him neck massages. In this case, it is the other bro's responsibility to recognize the situation and take the bro away for the sake of his wallet.
Phrase: Save me bro!
Translation: I'm a little bitch and cannot get out of this situation under my own power; leave my pansy ass.
Phrase: No, of course you don't look fat in that (blank).
Translation: Bitch, enough with your insecurities. Obviously you are attractive enough to be seen in my company, and that should be enough to satisfy you. Shut the hell up, just shut up.
Phrase: Come at me, bro!
Translation: I want to look tough in front of some chicks, but I really don't want to fight. If I did, I would just walk up to you with my chest extended and beat your fucking face in.
Phrase: I don't care.
Translation: I really don't give a shit. If I had an opinion I would tell you, because I am a man, damn it. Make a fucking decision already.
Phrase: I love you.
Translation: Making the sex with you is awesome, and you are a cool enough chick to hang out with. We've been together for a while, and I feel like if I don't say this I won't get laid as much. Oh yeah, feelings and stuff too.
Phrase: Damn that girl is hot, but I'm not gonna go talk to her. You do it.
Translation 1: I must have just come from the beach, because there is sand all up in my vagina.
Translation 2: I need a triple shot to refill my confidence tanks.
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