Blown-Out

After living in this region for a little while I can report back with my findings that many of these stereotypes about leaders are very true haha, but there’s no way this can anywhere close to as good as Borat.  In Borat he let real American people prove regional stereotypes true and make asses of themselves but at least we were able to laugh along with the cringing, disgust and second hand embarrassment.  If he actually filmed in character, unscripted in most Muslim countries he would probably not make it out, but this should still be pretty good.  Due to the indigenous people of the middle east (even in “liberal” Dubai) having little or no sense of humor, I doubt I’ll be seeing this one in the theater.  In our neck of the woods for some odd reason, adults and children alike seem to overwhelmingly prefer kids movies.  Believe me when toy story 17 comes out I’ll be the first to know.

One thing I could never understand throughout the course of history is why by their logic, assholes have always had no problem having sex with their slaves (they call them “maids” here) who they claim have the genetics of filthy animals.  That’s like saying by their rules of law-“Goats are the lowest form of creature, but hey I’m a goat fucker! I like to have sex with animals!”  The whole thing is fucked.  I don’t know, these idiots have all this wealth and power that the rest of the world equates with drawing great specimens of the opposite sex and the only people that they can get (or force) to have sex with them are A.) Slaves they treat like animals  B.) Prostitutes  C.) People in their own family.  Yet they’re all ripping around in sports cars like a bunch of womanizing big dick Euro-trash dude machines…something doesn’t equate here.  The d-bag per sq. ft. ratio here is astronomical.

I like the way you do it right thurr (right thurr)
Swish your hips when you walk, let down your hurr (down your hurr)
I like the what you do that right thurr (right thurr)
wet your lips when you talk,that make me slurr (make me slurr)

Our dead neighbor across the hall.

The Volcano.

Milk truck.

CLICK THIS LINK ^^^^^This is how I know my wife loves me.  She showed me this game with the absolute knowledge that my lack of impulsive self control, obsessive personality and love of theme songs for shows (some of which I barely watched) would lead me to uncontrollably hum this theme song continuously for days and potentially weeks to come.  I know it too but I will not be able to stop myself.  It’s like biting your nails, before you even have a chance to catch yourself your fingers are bleeding.  She still showed me the link knowing that our life would have to be put on hold until I won the game and my dreams were fulfilled.   She also knew that it would become an open invitation to flex my unconquerable TGIF knowledge at every waking minute.  I can’t help it, I have to sing it and if I don’t I’ll shrivel up into a ball and turn into a rotten troll.  I can’t stop myself.  The things that I care about most in life and carry the most expertise about are the things that are the most useless.  I have been cursed with the gift of retaining useless knowledge, but I have dreams too god dammit!  I will tend a sheep farm in Mypos someday, live off the land…and nothings gonna stop me now mutherfuckers! nooothiiing!

aka. A broom closet where two men who work 12hr shifts take turns sleeping standing up.

Curtains of choice for those who work the nightshift.

Suckaz.