Will The Worm Like Prison...or Love It?

Sports Illustrated Flamboyant former NBA star Dennis Rodman has been told he could face up to 20 days in jail unless he pays some $860,000 in child support. 

So, apparently Rodman's on his way to green mile because he and every other NBA player owes a gazillion in child support, blah, blah, blah. That really isn't the interesting part. What intrigues me is this farce of a defense he's putting up, pretending that 20 days in prison wouldn't be the most fun he's ever had. No one's going to pick a fight with a big'un with jagged 'bows and a knack for sack taps, first off. Plus, I gotta think there will probably be a pool going on whether the greatest rebounding tranny of all time actively wants to be someone's bitch or if he might just be straight enough to fake believable reluctance (but based on the Carmen Electra banging and being the commish of the Lingerie Football League, he's definitely not gay, just a weird as shit attention whore, right?) Which brings me to my next point, he was probably still relevant when half of these hoodlums were locked up, and you know he's been dying to be famous again (cue the E! reality show following his incarceration.) Who's better suited for Oz II than a HOF 6'6'' professional wrestler in a wedding dress? Probably most people, but fuck it, this'll be more entertaining.  


P.S. Did some research...pretty sure he might definitely be Bi. 


Disclaimer: I'm not implying that gay guys in prison have fun getting raped, just implying that Rodman might be a slutty dude with some pretty kinky fantasies. 

Revis Makes a Jerk of Himself

This pretty much sums up the differences between the Jets and the Pats. Gronk's basically our least savvy media personality--entertaining as hell, but gets filmed spinnin' his shirt round his head like a hellicoptah (read in Petey Pablo voice) after the Superbowl loss...not to mention he's probably hung over for this interview. Revis, on the other hand, isn't even in the Jets' top three "last fucking idiots I'd want talking about our rivals on Sportscenter" list, and he calls the greatest head coach to ever cut the sleeves off his hoodie a "jerk" and does it under his breath like a seven year-old that just got caught calling his little brother a cucka-face. Cut to Gronk giving the best answer to any question ever: "Tebow?" "Starting quarterback for the Jets." So far in The Dirty's head he can  Gronk-spike the kid's repressed memories if he wants to. Yo Soy Fiesta indeed.

P.S. By "greatest head coach to ever cut the sleeves off his hoodie," I obviously mean the greatest genius to participate in athletics of any kind since Einstein rode a bike.  

P.P.S. In the freeze frame opening to this clip, they both look like they're sitting at a kitchen counter across from Chris Hansen.

Truth

Seeing this just gives me flashbacks, flashbacks to a time when I believed in integrity, a time of innocence, a time before I read the label on a chip bag at some sticky picnic table. But now I know better. This little airbag affront to God and country isn't "for individual retail sale." Assholes pass them out as sides with hot dogs at Cape League games or clam shacks with little ankle-biters as their most common victims, and it's a fucking disgrace. Now you know. Honestly, they should give up on this little titty flick of a sham and just give that bitch a pickle spear, bitches love pickle spears.

P.S. I bet whoever made this video thinks they just put the nail in the Lays empire's coffin. Occupiers.

Luckiest MILF ever fake drives.

Ya....so...anyway...girl things and stuff...

P.S. This reminds me: worst Steak and BJ Day ever. The Number One Smoosh recently dumped my ass because the Olympian lightning bolts radiating from the tip of my dick were giving her headaches or whatever, so instead of enjoying the festivities as God intended, I ended up eating two McDoubles and workin' the bald man over to a Friends re-run. You know the fantasy--the Rachael and Monica threesome, either in their apartment or right at Central Perk, and if you have time, maybe Pheobe shows up for shits and giggs.

P.P.S. There's never enough time to get to Pheobe. I know it. Pheobe knows it. The Number One Smoosh knows it.

P.P.P.S. I'm probably going to regret this post when I call up the ex in a week begging her to take me back. The hard truth.

Top Secret Under 500 Swag, Courtesy of NYC

It's bad enough that you're the most talked-about sub-.500 team in the national media since the last NYC market sports franchise went under .500 (not the Mets...whatever they do isn't sport,) but whatever, the worst part is that these jabroni can't even make it through their own video without giggling at their criminally unfunny inside jokes like Seth Green watching an episode of Robot Chicken alone in Seth MacFarlane's basement. Reading? Do you even know what being an NBA player is all about? Gilbert Arenas is pulling guns on teammates in the locker room, Paul Pierce regularly throws up gang signs at either Al Horford or whoever stabbed him in the face this week, and Delonte West literally banged his teammate's mom, and you're going to read at them?

P.S. Too many 3 year-old NBA references for ya?

Charles Barkley Just Dropped the Pearl of the Tourney

"I don't even gotta look at this game. I can just look at the score and tell that this is gonna be a close game."

Midterm Swag

So much swag I can't even stand it. Classic spring semester midterm dilemma: one foot in the library, one foot in Panama City Beach, beats dropping like hurtlers at the Special Olympics. Play on playa.

P.S. Never been so sure that someone was listening to Skrillex in my life. At first it was like doop doop doop, but then it went all womp womp womp.

Merika's Hat Almost Ceases to Suck...Continues To

Sure, lose a bid for Lord Stanley's cup and Vancouver burns. Go straight Dillinger on my spank bank and not a torched cruiser in sight in the streets of Toronto. Get your priorities straight. You're killin' me Smalls.

Now It's the Weekend Bitches

Oh my!

P.S. Totally not gay.

Fake Life Rodent Masquerades As Mascot

So this is an opossum. Roadkill. Is this what we're doing now. Ya, I have a mascot that lives in my radiator, it's called a fucking mouse, and I live in fear. He lives in my home, and I live in fear. Not a mascot. The dumpster behind my building has a mascot too, it's a skunk and the reason why I throw my trash bags in from the balcony instead of walking down there. I'm also just jealous because he can snowboard better than I can.

P.S. I throw my trash off my balcony because I'm lazy. I know it. You know it. The dumpster mascot knows it.

Not My Usual Blog

I'm usually all for dogs. Team K-9 O.G. right here. Allergic to cats. Born hater. That being said, I legitimately can't do this. Like, I can't through pure athleticism replicate the feat that this animal just performed. So, I'm in a very strange place right now. Dog unlocks cage: great. Dog gets stuck in sweatshirt: adorable. Dog stands watch on owners grave: respect. Dog straight shows me up: watch yourself, Fido.

Wants VS Needs (I don't care that I stole this title from theChive)

I need food, water, and shelter. I want pussy, drugs, and money. I need at least a half dozen baby sonics in my mailbox by 10 AM yesterday. You have spikes and you squeak? And you're endearingly clumsy? Bro? Be my pet now.

Miranda Kerr Goes All 'Lost in Translation' On Our Asses

Given, Kerr's in my top five, easy, and she's in it hard. No amount of half gay babies can change that. But is it racist that I think a submissive, geisha-fied Kerr is in my top one? Hard.

P.S. This effectively makes every blogger that mocked Coors Iced Tea earlier this week gay. Sorry, but iced tea is so hot right now.

Shawshank: The Prequel

Respect.

Life Imitates MarioKart

Hours. Days. Honestly, weeks spent mastering the ins-and-outs of video game racing, and then your mom threw your cartridge into the trash because my your level of frustration was "unhealthy." Know what we call "frustration"  in the streets, ma? (and by "streets" I mean Rainbow Road.) Dedication. Passion. Power--the power to lose a trailer by running that bitch into a pole. Cuz at the end of the day, it's not about red shells, bananas, or bullets, it's about racing (and green shells are legit too.) Fuck what ya' heard.

P.S. Am I crazy to say that I kind of preferred "Diddy Kong Racing"? Less bullshit specials, hovercrafts, planes, and an Indian elephant genie. Boom. It's been said.

U!S!A!

We hold these truths to be self evident, that all men are created blah blah. Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall. I have a dream. I like turtles. This is my list of all-star 'Merika quotes. Shattered. In a world dominated by GIFs and YouTube rants, the world's longest line of bikini-clad coeds flat out wins. For when Alexander looked back on his Empire, he wept, for there were no lands left to conquer, and he said, "FUCK YOU, bikinis right in your grill mix." Roasted.

Bro Tapes Worst Prank Ever.