Be careful when you eat Resee’s Peanut Butter Cups, especially the mini ones. Don’t forget about the extra rapper. Imagine the embarrassment when you are living it up, about to pop a delicious peanut buttery treat into your mouth and then BAM! Disaster strikes as you realize something is amiss and you awkwardly spit out a mangled P-cup, while your coworkers look on in utter disbelief at the spectacle in front of them. Not cool.
ESPN.COM – In a predraft blockbuster trade, the St. Louis Rams have agreed in principle to send the second overall pick in this year’s draft to the Washington Redskins for three first-round draft picks and a second-round pick.
So the Redskins trade 3 first round picks (this year’s 6th pick, and 2013 and 2014 picks which will almost definitely be top 10’s as well) all to move up 4 spots so they can take Robert Griffin. Does this seem crazy to anyone else? I mean, listen, I guess if Griffin works out and becomes a franchise type QB, it’s worth it. But that’s a big gamble. Most first round QB’s turn out to be busts… Jamarcus Russell, Ryan Leaf, David Carr, Tim Couch, Alex Smith (until this year), and of course Heath Shuler… just to name a few. Obviously a no brainer for the Rams. They’re not drafting a QB anyway with Bradford there, so now they can still fill a hole this year with a solid 6th and they are set up well for the future.
I think the bigger story here is how depressed Robert Griffin must be. What a punch in the dick for this guy. Is there a worse place you could land in the NFL than Washington? I don’t think so. Crappy weather, ugly uniforms, idiot owner, perennial joke team. Dude was riding high after winning the Heisman, looking forward to a promising future in the NFL, and then bam! Instant career ruiner. Over before it’s even begun.
Let it rain! Let it rain!
ABC News – The New York Mets’ owners must pay up to $83 million to the trustee recovering money for Bernard Madoff investors, a judge said Monday, though he expressed doubt that the trustee will succeed in proving at a trial this month that he’s entitled to as much as $300 million more.
If you attend a bachelor party where you don’t know most of the people, and somebody offers you a pot cookie, politely decline.
Or accept… and then spend the next two hours questioning why you were even invited to the party, when you are obviously a complete loser that nobody likes. Spend an entire dinner sitting uncomfortably across from two dudes you don’t really know and wondering if they are totally weirded out that you haven’t said a word in what seems like hours. Focus intently on how every move you make is unfathomably awkward and strange. Hold in your pee for like an hour because you think it may seem weird if you get up and go to the bathroom. Keep trying to convince yourself that this is just the pot making you paranoid, and that the other 12 people at the table aren’t all secretly laughing at you behind your back. Pray to god that you start to feel normal before the strip club, because interacting with strippers seems like the worst possible scenario in the world at that moment. Yup, just politely decline, even if they say it’s mild. Trust me. It’s not worth the risk.
This will be the first of many, many, many installments of “How low can the Mets go?”
I know most of this blog’s readers couldn’t care less about the Mets. I know Rmurdera will likely throw a hissy fit when he see’s this blog, and say something like “You worthless piece of shit ass pie donkey face (yes that is how he speaks to me). Nobody cares about you and your loser Mets. People want to hear about cool teams like The Red Sox… who were basically crowned “best team ever” before last season and then failed to make the playoffs. People want to hear about Tom Brady and how he can’t win a big game anymore, but boy does he have dreamy hair.”
Well maybe’s he’s right, but all I know is that when there’s a car wreck on the road, people slow down to see it. And the Mets are about to embark on a 162 car pileup of a season. Every game this season promises to be just a complete and utter embarrassment, and what better way to commemorate this disaster than an installment of “How low can the Mets Go” after every head scratching misstep they make. You see, the funny (tragic) thing about being a Mets fan is that every time you think they’ve hit rock bottom, they find some crazy new way to sink even lower.
I mean we’re only in Spring training and I’m already behind the 8 ball with these installments. Wilpon’s already running his mouth about how he’s going to own the team for a long time and that all the salary dumping has been based on “baseball decisions” and has nothing to do with how he’s a fucking idiot and got scammed by Bernie Madoff. You know what would have been a good baseball decision? Trading that scumbag Jose Reyes last July at the peak of his value and getting some dumb team to overpay with awesome prospects. You know what’s not a good baseball decision? Not trading him and letting him sign with a division rival when everyone knew you had no chance of signing him in the first place.
Then yesterday, Wilpon introduces “underdog” t-shirts cause he think’s The Mets are the fucking Royals or something. I guess he’s hoping these will replace all of the “Fire Wilpon” shirts Mets fans seem to love. Newsflash Freddy, you can’t be an underdog in New York City. You can either do what you are supposed to do – field a 150 million dollar team and win…. or suck.
And apparently, when he was asked about his financial situation, he took about a bunch of five dollar bills, waived them at reporters and said he had plenty of money. What alternate universe is this guy living in? Even Friedchips is walking around with some twenties on hand. Can’t get shit in New York for five bucks. Actually, I guess you can probably score some decent Mets tickets.
Get ready to smear some mud on your ass! And definitely get ready to hump the shit out of your refrigerator! Cause it looks like Gene and the whole crew from Wet Hot American Summer are coming back, for Wet Hot American Summer 2!!! Seriously, I don’t think I can put enough exclamation points on the end of these sentences to truly capture how exciting this news is. It’s like the equivalent of getting your drivers license, eating your first Anna’s burrito and getting laid for the first time all on the same day. It’s like 10 years of anticipation culminating in one final awesomely climactic moment of freedom, carnitas and awkward car sex. Wet Hot is a freaking classic. I could watch that movie any time, dinner time, literally any time.
On Thursday’s Daily Show, Paul Rudd mentioned that David Wain and Michael Showalter are in the process of writing the sequel, and some random dude from some site I’ve never heard of confirms it in this article. While Wet Hot is my favorite comedy of all time, I have to say it totally ruined Law In Order SVU for me. Christopher Meloni is clearly wasting his comedic talents on that show, and now all I think about when he’s investigating a sexual assault is Gene prancing around showing Coop his “new way” or talking to his can of mixed vegetables. Unfortunately, some people find it to be in poor taste to laugh out loud when the SVU cops uncover another child rape.
Anyway, I’ve always mocked those Lord of The Rings and Harry Potter weirdos who stand in line for hours in their ridiculous costumes to catch the premieres of those movies, but when the time comes, I can guarantee that I’ll be out there in my cut off jean shorts and belly shirt fondling some sweaters. Who wants to come as the can of veggies?
Now, that’s what I’m talking about. I mean, literally the only reason to have kids is so you can train them to do stupid shit around the house for you right? Sure, the first few years are a little tough since all they do is sleep, eat and poop all over the place. But when I have kids and age 6 or 7 hits, it’s gonna be super happy fun times for friedchips. My kids are gonna be making me grilled cheese sammies and grabbing me beers 24/7. Making beds and washing dishes that the finest cleaning ladies in all the lands would be proud of. Mowing the lawn and raking leaves like John Deere himself. Baking cookies and tending the garden like Martha freaking Stewart. The way I see it, if I’m putting a roof over their heads and food on their plates, that pretty much makes them my slaves.
Also, while I respect the hell out of this guy for putting 8 rounds through his ungrateful daughter’s computer, that video could have been about 1000 times better. How upsetting was it when he took that first shot and all it did was put one little hole through the middle? You absolutely HAVE to pull out the shot gun for something like this and just blow that thing to smithereens. Break out some imovie, slow motion that shit, throw some Geto Boys on in the background, and give that thing a proper send off.
PS – Really weird how that guy massages his cigarette at 5:40.
[Editor-in-Chief’s Note: the following blog was written by Friedchips (terrible name), who may or may not be a part time contributor to this publication–we’ll see if he can find time to get away from his busy schedule of fake-pretending to care about all of God’s creatures. Rather than post a rebuttal to some of his slanderous remarks in this post, I choose to move on. Just know that he’s been practically begging me to start a new blog for the better part of a year now. -Rmurdera]
You know how people always complain about this generation being an entitled bunch of douchebags? Well rmurdera pretty much confirmed as much with that inaugural “blog post,” if you can call it that. I freaking gave this kid his start in the blogging business. I showed him the ropes. I taught him the do’s and don’ts. I busted his blogging cherry, or as I like to call it, his bloggerry. Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, and he’ll go upstream and steal all your fucking fish. Bottom line is I bent over backwards showing him how to write and run an earth shatteringly awesome blog that never got the respect it deserved. And what does he do?
He jumps ship. He complains about the name of my blog because his feeble mind can’t comprehend the intrinsic irony of it. And then he starts his own strangely titled blog and basically rips me to shreds. Hates my name, hates my blog. hates my editorial decisions. Did I delete one of his posts once? Yes, but only because it made NO FUCKING SENSE! If memory serves me correctly, his basic thesis was that people who volunteer their time and money to help animals are assholes because there are people who need help and they deserve it more. By that philosophy, the police should only spend their time stopping murderers and rapists, and stop wasting their time on pesky small time criminals and thieves. Heck, instead of wasting time writing this blog, maybe I should just use this time helping people in need. I could be out helping some poor fool who has no idea how to run a blog or live his life…. Wait, I guess that is what I’m doing writing this blog.