Guest Column: Goddamn Happy Birthday America

Posted on July 4, 2008

Guest Columnist Earl Joe Maynard — Goddamn it’s been 222 years since the goddamn Illuminati started this little country we call the North American Union (Oh it might not be called that yet but in eight years when president-colonel Ron Paul unites the four nations on this continent [after Texas revolts and becomes a separate nation state of course] just you wait and you’ll see ole Earl Joe is right).
Goddamn kids already lighting off the ole fireworks next door without knowing what America is all about. You punk kids think you’re hot shit in a champagne glass but you’re just cold diarrhea in a Dixie cup compared to Earl Joe. You see I was over in southeast Asia killing Vietnamese boys during the secret Vietnam war all through 1974-1977. Because of me you sumbitches get the liberties you do without me coming over with my goddamn rifle and putting you in your place. And you don’t even recognize the fact. Bastard school systems don’t teach you about the secret wars I bet, because they’re too busy brainwashing kids into believing that George Washington started this country and not Adolf Hitler’s great great grandfather. Goddamn teachers probably believe that themselves. Learn your history people! Watch my public access show on channel 99 ever Friday night at nine thirty after the Tortilla Hour. Goddamn illegals and their goddamn cooking show. Ole Earl Joe will teach you all about what really happened when the King of Spain ruled America during the Civil War. Goddamnit. Happy Goddamn birthday America.

Guest Column: In My Day, I Could Write a SYMPL Interpreter in My Sleep

Posted on July 2, 2008

Guest Columnist: Robbie the IT Guy — I tell you what. These fucking people I work with. I’m amazed that they even go to the bathroom themselves. These fucking kids don’t know how great they have it. When I got into this business, we didn’t have these pansy ass graphical interfaces to work with. No we had 40 columns of monospaced green text, if we were lucky enough to have a high end CRT. And you know what? We wrote some god damned fucking great code with that.

I could write a fucking spreadsheet app in my sleep. And it would be under 128 bytes, let me tell you. These pansy-ass motherfuckers have no idea what it’s like to have to fit your entire porn collection on a floppy disk. I was downloading tits over a 300 bit per second smart modem from a BBS before these assholes knew how to suckle their own mommy’s teats. Fucking snot-nose punks around me, I tell you.

These assholes get all bitchy too when they run out of Rock Starz and Ballz and Mountain Dew in the fridge. Those pussies wouldn’t even know what to do with themselves if they had to mix Coca Cola and hot coffee, they way we did around the old Deltaur offices back in my day. And we liked it. God damn kids.

Guest Column: The Olde Country Buffet Doth Offend Me

Posted on December 15, 2007

Guest Columnist Erasmus Ravenworth — Oh woe betides! A thousand hexes ‘pon the Olde Country Buffet, for they have truly offended this dark writer. They will come to rue the day they have crossed Erasmus Ravenworth of the damned!

I was dining there one dark eve a fortnight ago with my lady love, Mistress Magdalene Beau Ravensclaw, when they did turn us out before we did finish our sup. We had arrived that dreary night not more than eight hours past the noon, an adequate time for feasting before a night of witching, and the wretched hostess dared say that the buffet closed within the half hour! We did walk past the salad bar with haste, stopping only for chocolate mousse and bananas in Jell-O, and went forth to the wonders of the entree buffet before us.

Alas the miserable serfs of the establishment had already removed the roast from the buffet for the evening! My lady love had been truly looking forward to dining upon carved roast beef, to feel the gravy run down her throat as would the blood of an innocent. She did gnash and beat her breast in anguish, and settle for the hearty lasagna. The chocolate mousse did touch my lady love’s baked potato, causing her more anguish. Why ye demons cannot the buffet have compartmented plates for the true dining enthusiast!? I must confess though, we did dine upon many fried legs of chicken with gusto. And I did savor truly the meatloaf after reciting an incantation honoring the beast that did give its lifeblood for our sup.

I did let out a virile complaint ‘pon discovering that they were bereft of Diet Dr Pepper. I was made to quaff my thirst with orange soda. Fear the day that I shall happen upon you, manager Ted Ralston! Fear it well. Lament the fact that your soft serve machine was b’witched and could only produce vanilla. Mistress Magdalene despises vanilla, and will only top her brownie with chocolate. I did hear no end to her vitriol that night, for her dinner was to be ruined by a poxy dessert of more bananas in Jell-O.

Once great though you were, Olde Country Buffet, ye have fallen from my graces. May my dark soul never cross through your cursed doors again I say!

Guest Column: Steve is Looking out for Steve

Posted on November 24, 2007

Guest columnist Steve Whitaker — World look out, because the world isn’t looking out for you. That’s why Steve is looking out for Steve. That’s right, it’s a brand new Steve and I’m unleashed.

What prompted this change, you might ask. Well I’ll tell you what. Jeff Michelson’s sister, that’s who. Jeff is a senior at my school, and he’s a real fag. He’s always slapping me on the back real hard and calling me Wussaker and reminding me that my mom is hot. Not that I’ve looked. I mean I saw her coming out of the shower once when I was fourteen and I was all “Mom! I’m playing Grand Theft Auto 2, quit walking around naked!” Mom totally knows who’s really in charge of the house. Anyways, one day, Jeff Michelson beat me up after school one day. It was nothing serious, like I have a bunch of bruises and stuff, and my mom thinks I cracked a rib, but whatevs, I’m 17 now which makes me totally a man, so I just take it.

Anyways, his sister, who is a freshman, saw what happened and totally felt bad for me. She invited me over and gave me some Five Alive, then we went up to her room. She’s kind of chunky, but you know, the Steve sometimes likes them that way. We were sitting on her bed, drinking Five Alive and watching My Super Sweet 16, when all of a sudden she took her retainer out and kissed me. I was confused, but Steve is cool and confident, so I put my tongue in her mouth. After a couple of minutes of this I put my hand up her sweater. That’s right, I totally felt a boob. I think she liked this so I reached around to undo her bra. I couldn’t quite reach around her so I had to move a little. And that’s when I found out, bras are hard man! I kept pulling at the clips but I couldn’t get it. Then she heard the garage door opening which meant her mom was home. I had to sneak out the window and run home.

The old Steve was a loser, always getting pushed around. But not the new Steve. Oh no. The new Steve is ready for anything. The new Steve has felt a boob. And when Jeff sees me at school tomorrow, I’m going to tell him. “You might think you can just push me around whenever, but you know what, I’ve felt your sister’s boob. And you hitting me can’t change that.” We’ll see how he likes that!

Guest Column: Goddammed Goverment

Posted on September 24, 2007

Guest Columnist Earl Joe Maynard — Well the goddammed government is at it again. My check is late for the third month in a row. Every month I have to put off buying my bourbon and turkey jerky because some pinhead in a federal office can’t seem to get my check printed on time. Meanwhile he’s probably overpaid because the government ain’t nothin’ but old boys network and dimmycrats. And of course the Jews that run everything.

Of course, it’s not just the Jews that are in charge. Oh no, they couldn’t do it by themselves. They’s in league with the Illuminati, run by Louis Farrakhan. You see, the Illuminati need Farrakhan to control the Moonies and Shining Path while the Black Muslims build a base on the other side of the moon. Once the moon base is completed, the Jews will be able to set up trade with the space-faring Taurans and get interplanetary weapons technology. Of course, this is all unless the Chinese will be able to reanimate the corpse of Mao Zedong and develop interplanetary weapons technology of their own. I fought the damned red menace back in Korea, and now here I am saying that they’re our only hope. Things is crazy these days.

Believe you me, there’s gonna be a great war between Vatican-backed Israel and China soon. You know which side old America’s gonna be on. I have half a mind to go over to Italy and fight the pope myself, course I can’t get Roger and Dwayne down at the VFW to join up with me. Once I get them on my side though you can bet I’ll take care of this whole sitcheeation. Then maybe I could get my goddamned check on time every now and then.

Guest Column: That School Anti-Drug Rally Really Spoke to Me

Posted on January 17, 2007

Guest Columnist Steve Whitaker — Man that rally at school was awesome! I learned that drugs are totally for fags! We got out of fourth period and all went down to the auditorium. Our principal got up on stage and he’s so cool, he has this crazy tie that looks like a skateboard, so he can totally connect with youth. He talked about how drugs are bad and we should never start smoking or using them because it will ruin our lives. Then he introduced these guys, they were called “MC Free and the Tossers”, and they were these jugglers who did these awesome raps about how drugs totally suck! They were throwing these bowling pins around and giving us all these awesome facts. Did you know if you did pot just once, you would become totally addicted? Then MC Free started doing this rap about how we should “Don’t hate, and appreciate/ a drug free life”. Then Trina, this way hot Asian girl told us about how drinking beer makes you have underage pregnancies and babies from single moms turn out to use drugs too. These two guys, Doug and Greg started juggling six balls at once! And then, Todd, this guy in a wheelchair threw two beer bottles in for them to juggle too and they dropped the balls and the bottles and Todd said “That’s what happens when you use drugs. You lose it all.” And after the janitor Jerry swept off the stage Trina and Todd brought a couple of students onto the stage and showed them how to use this sticks that you juggle with, called “devil sticks” and it was totally cool. And then they all got together and did this rap about drinking and drugs and it was over. I’m totally not going to use drugs and I’m gonna learn to juggle too! It was awesome! MC Free signed my Trapper Keeper too!

We Should Be Fucking in the Rain

Posted on January 4, 2007

Guest Columnist Joe Park — Baby you know it’s true. I want to be romantic for you. I brought you flowers, I wrote a ballad for you to see. And I want to fulfill your fantasy. Hush now girl, you don’t have to tell me what it is. We should be fucking in the rain.

Yeah that’s right. Under the glow of the moonlight, the raindrops pouring down on us, I’ll fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before baby. I know you’ll love it. I love you so much, we’ll do all the positions. That’s right baby, me on top and doggy. Just for you. And I’ll bring you flowers and chocolates too. For when we’re fucking in the rain. Yeah girl, it will be the most romantic fucking you ever had.

Guest Column: I am a Platonic Man Whore

Posted on October 1, 2006

Guest Columnist Joe Park — I know what you’re thinking. You take a look at me and think “A guy like Joe, he must be swimming in pussy. He must be getting so much snatch that he has to dress up in a big blue furry suit and call himself the Nookie Monster.” But no dude, I’m afraid it ain’t quite so. In fact, I’m not ashamed to admit it. I am a platonic man whore. And trust me, it’s not fun bro’.

I’m sorta seeing four chicks right now. Sorta. I know, you would imagine I would be getting all kinds of play off of these chicks, and it’s okay for you to imagine that dogg, but it’s not entirely true. This one chick, Stacy. She all talks about how she wants the Joester, and who could blame her, ya know? But she’s got this other guy that she’s kinda with. From what I hear he’s a total d-bagg, but for some reason she can’t reason up and realize that she needs yours truly to give her what she needs. It’s a sad situation for her I know.

And meanwhile, there’s this other chick Lois, that’s totally into me as well. We’ve done some heavy petting, don’t get me wrong. But I have yet to penetrate her inner fortresses, if you catch my drift. Every time I head down south she gets all freaked out about her promise to God ‘n’ junk. Well you know what? The Joemeister talked to God last night and Jesus wants me to see your holy garden and send you to heaven baby. So meanwhile, I’m stuck listening to stories about the funny thing some old lady said at her bible study group.

But don’t worry, Joe’s got more chicks that aren’t giving it up like they should be. Shirley is this totally hot black chick. I keep telling her that we could make an awesome little Tiger Woods baby, and that we should start practicing now. But whenever I bring it up, she just laughs and says “Joe you’re so funny!” It ain’t a joke Shirley, Joe wants to swirl a little spicy cream in your cafe-au-lait.

Finally there’s Jessica. I called her up after my frat bro’ Jeff said she was totally easy. Well Jeff’s an ass ‘cuz Jessica’s nookie is locked up tighter than a bank vault whenever J-to-tha-Izzo comes around. Whenever I try to get comfortable with her she just complains about this guy in her home town that took advantage of her or whatever. And I’m like “Honey, it’s okay. Joe is here to make everything better with a little sexual healing.” I even tried to get her drunk once, but she just cried all night. I thought I was definitely in there before that all happened; I had to excuse myself to the bathroom for a little mano-a-Josecito, if you know what I mean.

And if you see any of these chicks, don’t tell ‘em I said anything. They sorta don’t know about each other, and the last thing I need is another two hours of having to listen to some broad cry about how shitty guys are and shit. Plus I think Stacy might open up any time soon for business. Don’t worry about Joe, there’s always a new plate of Poontang, and I brought my spoon and napkin.

Guest Column: It’s My Duty to Look at Porn

Posted on September 21, 2006

Guest Columnist Steve Whitaker — Friends, I have come to you today to tell you that I feel, within my very being, that it is my patriotic duty to look at pornography. Everyday, dozens of models, sexy babysitters, naughty teachers, and confused young runaways that Ed Powers picked up at the bus station are exposing themselves in front of a camera, all for us to enjoy, and for a check ranging from $50 to $150 dollars. If Misty or Mandy is going to submit to her first time having a complete stranger ejaculating all over her face, all in front of a camera, don’t you think we should be there to share that moment with her?

When I sit down at my computer to begin my daily sessions of looking for new and unseen pornographic websites, the thought eventually occurs to me that somewhere, there are sites that have yet to be seen by human eyes. Are you people hearing me? There are breasts out there, in jpeg form, that nobody has ever seen? Am I the only one who is disturbed by this fact?! That is why, every day, sometimes multiple times in a day, I sit down for an hour or two at a time to find fresh undiscovered boobies. To save these girls from suffering the embarrasment of never having been masturbated to shamelessly.

Some would say that I am naught but a chronic masturbator, a foul-minded self-polluter, a sexually repressed weirdo. To them I say nay, I am a truly dedictated patriot, facing down unseen nipples in the eye and staring at them until they feel it. I am allowing these girls the freedom that they deserve, that they need, knowing that their message has been sent. I hear you girls, I hear you.

Words Truly Cannot Express how Deeply I Feel the Sentiment to Bone You

Posted on July 28, 2006

Guest Columnist Joe Park — Baby, tonight I feel we’ve truly made a life-enduring connection. And I’d like to build up our relationship by pounding you with this erection I have, pounding you out of love. I know we met only just yesterday, but the jewel in your eyes, the shine in your hair, and the smile that men would start wars over, all mean a lot to me. Specifically, they mean “Let’s fuck”.

I know you feel it too. I can hear in the way you titter when I compliment you that your heart is opening up like a flower in bloom, and I hope that your legs will too. When I get lost in your eyes, I see them as a window into your soul. Your eyes look at me with a longing, like it’s something you’ve never felt. Like you are waiting for me to sweep you off your feet, hand you a dozen roses, kiss you gently, and tell you, “Baby, let’s slam.”

I’m here to tell you that I feel we can make that commitment, a commitment that begins with me unhooking your bra and will continue on with you leaving before I have to work in the morning. And who knows, maybe this spark I feel between us will burn brightly into a big flame of passion and repeated sexual congress. I have tried to be poetic, but even the words of Shakespeare could not express how deeply I feel for you, and how deep I want to feel in you.

Next Page »

© Copyright jWiltshire.org • Powered by Wordpress • Using a modified version of the Detour theme created by Brian Gardner.