Jorts and the Iowa State Fair

Today was a super busy day as I started my work in Ames, Iowa. The town itself is quaint enough, offering most amenities that anyone would need - this however, does not include a Macy's. I feel almost like I am on another planet when there is not one of those stores in this entire STATE. Honestly? This is my only choice and trust me, it's about as ghetto as it gets.

So, in order to reach out and really experience all that Iowa has to offer, I made my way to the Iowa State fair this weekend. I guess I was expecting to see some outrageous things, but nothing prepared me for the endless amounts of fatties and jorts I would behold. On a side note: Iowa has a jorts pandemic - cargo, carpenter, cutoff, homemade, store-bought, Daisey Pukes, Huck Finn-ish, acid washed...you name em and people sport em. I feel like I am in 1995. I can only imagine that they will finally get hold of Von Dutch and Ed Hardy (worth clicking on) in roughly 2025.

Back up off holmes.

The Iowa State Fair

So with all of that being said, I want you to sit back and enjoy this collection of priceless photographs taken at the Iowa State Fair.

This is a crystal skull filled with Vodka. Obviously a Russian cadaver.

This has got to be the most unflattering characiture ever done. She has NO idea what is coming.

The standard muffin-top jort.


Soo...are we still talking beer?

This is the state sponsored fat-back, baby-making tent.

Apparently there is more to it than just using a shovel.

Look at the buns on that one! Yea, he must not work out.


Cher's twin rooster.

An actual best of show for goats. No, seriously.

After you have your fill of hot beef sundae, try the hot dog pie and cow heart cake.

George Washington's duck. It has a wooden beak.

I couldn't tell if this was the cowgirl or the bull.

Home of the Iowa Beefcake.

Not even willing to try this.

Shaved top with a full mullet back. This is the first thing I saw at the TICKET BOOTH.

Overall, this place was a goddamn zoo. I wandered around for hours in a walking coma brought on by deep fried Snickers bars, cheese on a stick and Jovan Musk. In the end I came to two very real conclusions:

1) Best part of the Fair: a FREE Matt Nathanson concert. The man is an absolute bad-ass
2) Worst part of the Fair: everything else


After all of it, I realized that while the Iowa State Fair was a calamity of human life, it still wasn't as great as last year's journey to the North Carolina State Fair - or, as some call it, the Seventh Circle of Hell.

Until next time...Seeyah!


What I am laughing at right now: This is one of my all-time favorites that I just rediscovered it and continue to laugh. The kid in the video is sooo great, but the cackling of the mom in the face of the child's imminent peril is outstanding. The video was taking hours to upload so here is the youtube link - checks it out!

Back on the Wagon

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Big girls need lovin' too

I feel guilty for openly saying this: I am really addicted to shitty reality dating shows. And when I say addicted, I mean I am absolutely consumed with "coming up next week" and gossiping with my co-workers about the drama that shall ensue. Honestly, I cry in the shower afterwards because I feel so awful for having enjoyed it.

It's come to the pathetic point where these terribly guilty pleasures are marked on my calendar and they provide notification reminders to call all of my roommates to gather and chuckle at these sad people's misfortunes. It is no secret that I love the exploitation of the average American seeking stardom; and honestly if they (meaning the contestants) signed up for it willingly, then I have been given the Golden Ticket to laugh, and judge them openly. After all, they wanted it that way. No one just accidentally signs a 50 page waiver and bio and then has the right to say "I didn't know they were going to show me like that!?!"

At the very top of the list of the greatest reality dating shows on TV right now has got to be More to Love. This complete mess of a series (of course, televised on FOX) centers around Luke Conley, a large and lovable ex-football player who is in search of his perfect woman. The show follows an almost identical premise as The Bachelor except for one catch: each girl on the show is what is reffered to as a BBW - for those of you who have never accidentally stumbled across this awful part of a porn site, this means a Big, Beautiful Woman. The "smallest" of these ladies tips the scale at around 170 ("she got fat after high school, she didn't know what it was like to be fat growing up" - one of the other contestants) while the largest was in the 270's. I can only think of a couple famous women that enjoy Jack-in-the-Box at 3am more than this herd:

Below is a list of the show's female contestants and each of their "stats" so to speak. This reads less like a dating show cast and more like a list of professional female bowlers and the averages they carry:

Now don't get me wrong; I have nothing against big women or bigger people. I, myself, am known to carry around some winter warmth, yearround. HOWEVER, it is the actions and reactions of these women that are truly unbelieveable. Since most have never been on actual dates, they resort to spilling each detail of their lives almost instantaneously and at times Luke functions more as Dr. Phil than Dr. Single. (although I imagine most girls wish he was Dr. Pepper).

They met on FoodHarmony.com

There are just so many great aspects about this show. In order to fully understand the trainwrecks that are vieing for one man's love, you need to feast your eyes the casting call video posted online. Each episode is packed full of women weeping into the confessional camera, crying on topics ranging from men not liking them to not having prom to being jealous of the other girls. It happens so often and so regularly that I believe John Daly has started betting on it. Overall, the dates are awful, the women are complete wrecks and the show itself is a hilarious mess. It's hard to watch these women blame their dating misfortunes on their weight; in actuality, they aren't finding the man of their dreams because they are whining, caddy, angry, malicious, crazy bitches.

If you haven't taken any time to watch More to Love (or as i call it, the Andrew Feel Better About Myself Hour) PLEASE do yourself a favor and watch. You can follow this link to access the episodes and catch up each Tuesday night at 9 p.m. to see how their rolls unfold (haha). Overall, this is as good as reality TV gets.


What I am laughing at right now: In my post from Monday I referenced how good Northeast Ohio looked after all the positive coverage this past weekend. The following ACTUAL NEWSCAST from Cleveland Fox (do you see a shitty TV trend here?) affiliate WJW Channel 8 News is truly re-cockulous. Apparently, Cleveland is now known for it's high murder and unemployment rates and man-eating cardboard bears.

Bro, You're a God Among Bros

Courtesy of Zach Caldwell via Chris Leithe: Enjoy this one!!!

You know you're one of my top bros, bro, because you got my back. And I got yours. You're my bro. But you went above and beyond the other night, bromaldehyde. You really did. Saving me that seat at the Velvet Revolver show, even though all those other bros were trying to get up front, bro? So clutch.

You are truly a god among bros.

Just when I think you're as solid as a bro can get, you raise the very definition of brodom to new heights. You're like a brogle, soaring to the farthest reaches of the atbrosphere. Seriously. If it weren't for you and your extreme brobility to hook a bro up when it is most croosh, I'd have been stuck in some bitch-ass seat, cramped all in the corner with a bunch of bitch-asses, bro. But you stepped up. You brovercame all obstacles to help a bro out. This is the kind of shit that makes bros for life.

Brody, I was so stoked when you told Gina to go eat a fat one after she asked if she could have your other ticket, even though you knew you could probably get a pretty deese HJ from her. Bros before hos, bro. That's what I'm talking about.

You are the king of all bros. Brotankhamen. You are the Ayatollah Bromeini. You are Broseidon, lord of the brocean.

But this is just one of many times you've fallen on a grenade for me, brozo. Who took the blame when I broke Skeeter's bong and fucking Skeeter was all fucking pissed? You, bro. Who was the first to bro up and carry that fucking keg of Killian's up four flights of stairs for Duke's surprise party? You, bro. Who was the only Bromo sapien on the planet to tell me he thought the brand-new rims on my F-350 were the shit even though everyone else was all, like, fucking not that excited about them? Bro, you know it was you. You're my broheim supremo, bro, and don't you ever forget it.

I'm so fucking glad we're bros, bro!

I've long admired your absolute broficiency in all things bro-related, and the way you've always carried yourself in a brofessional manner. I consider you a brole model. When I was new in this town, you took me under your wing and showed me the bropes. And I will always preesh that. Not only did you school me in proper brotocol, but you were a spiritual leader, a confidant, and, more importantly, a bro. You taught me how to be true to my inner bro and to bros around me. You are a real bro. Not a fake bro, like those other douches. I hate fake bros, bro. Faux breaux. Fuck that. No, really, bro…you're practically a bro-ther to me.

Look at you, blasting in like Rambro and firing off your launcher like nobrody's business, bro. Serious Brotosaurus Rex action. Brodius Maximus. I'm not big on labels, but you, more than any of the wiggers, bitches, goth chicks, dorks, homos, or Mexicans I know, are absolutely beyond rebroach.

In fact, your brotitude is so brossential that, in many ways, you are the ultimate brototype: You sprung out of the brotean ooze at the very broment of creation, unformed, unmolded, and became the ultimate bro, more powerful than any who came brofore. I don't fear your power, bro, but I respect it. And I will always brobey it.

Brosemite Sam. Potassium Bromide. Brobi Wan Kenobi. Brover Norquist.

Like Broseph Stalin, you are leading the way to the dictatorship of the broletariate. It is truly revbrolutionary. Like the Bro v. Wade of our generation. You brobliterate the enemy from the very peak of Mt. Brolympus. That's some shit. That's brolific. But that's the kind of bro you are.

Bro-S.A.! Bro-S.A.! I'm so pumped right now! Bro-S.A.!

You are the epitome of bro, in every brossible way, and that's the Bro's honest truth, bro. I may have a bropensity for broverstatement, but this no mere hyperbrole: You are 100 brocent, absbrolutely the broest. Brotally.

I wish I had the words to describe what a good friend you are, dude.


What I am laughing at right now: Everything Jon Lajoie touches is solid gold. No matter how many times I watch this I always laugh - and it reminds me that someone out there has a bad back and a pet cat as well.




Until next time...Seeyah!

All of the ladies love some CAK

This weekend was a great one for the world of sports. Why? Because for 72 beautiful hours all of America is transfixed on Akron/Canton, Ohio. The Bridgestone Tournament (held at the unbelievable Firestone Country Club) certainly not the centerpiece of the weekend, saw Tiger Brown capture his 70th victory on the PGA tour. But wait, Tiger Brown? Don't you mean Woods? Yes, technically they are the same person; I, however, chose to change his last name to Brown. Why you ask? Well because Tiger, like James, Bobby and Chris Brown, beats the shit out of everyone around him. It's only fitting.

The "other thing that happened this weekend" in Canton was, of course, the Pro Football HOF inductions, parade, rib burnoff and any other public excuses for Ohioans to be shirtless outside. I love my hometown and fellow brethren, but no other group of people in this world (except for those unfortunate souls who don't OWN shirts) are shirtless more often that Ohio residents. It's both awesome and gross and sometimes awesomely gross.

Advertise your small business on his back. Call now!

Even though I spent most of my weekend enjoying the beautiful weather, I was still able to catch glimpes of Canton on the tube. Although downtown Canton (and for the record because I am fair, parts of Akron) is absolutely terrifying, it's nice to see the city get its due for one of the best claim to fames in all of the world. It's definitely better than a small Chinese city who erected (pun intented) the largest penis in the world.

"Horry morry! Dat iz a rarge peenerse!"

Overall today, I am feeling the pressure of work, of moving and just the sheer amount of stuff I have to take care of in the next 3 days. Couple that with my car breaking and I am just a sad sap who loves to whine. Anyway, more better (yes, I said it) things to come later this week, including:

Who do I have a man crush on?

Manatee Week on Fox beats Shark week ratings! and...

My new fun game: Does it pee standing up or sitting down!

Until then....Seeyah!

What I'm laughing at right now: This video is a compilation of different people with hilarious laughs - the catch is they all Skype each other and laugh at the other ones laughing. The grandpa (from Dad at the Comedy Barn fame) is HYSTERICAL and so is the red headed kid with the Ipod earphones.

Imminent Death for under 30k, TFLN and other Friday nonsense

Given the fact that I have sat in an office all week, I feel damn good. A lot of really funny web traffic has flown by my browser screen, I got to re-connect with close friends, my Vegas desecration trip was finalized and I started this shitty blog. Overall 6 out of 10.

A measly six out of ten you say? What could possibly make things better? Well, that list could be a potential entry in and of itself, but marks in the "upper echelon" (nines and tens) go to things like: seeing a nipple slip, free Chipotle, watching one of those cake decorators on the Food Channel drop their finished product as they move it to the showcase table, encouraging my friends leave the bar with an ugly chick and taking a dump near, or on, the moon.

Mayday!

During my morning routine of stuffing my break-face and perusing garbage Internet sites, I came across a "huge sale" for a build-it-yourself deathtrap; ahem, I mean airplane. Honestly, a REAL fly-fly! Definitely not some "hey come play with my model airplane in the park and then check out the back of my unmarked windowless van" ploy that I have fallen for once or 13 times.

For only a measly $29,980 you can guarantee your last wishes will be met in a fiery, hell-bent display of twisted shrapnel and total hilarity! Even those DeVry engineers working at Airbus can't promise that! The plane is loaded with all of the standard features to get you off the ground but none that will help you in case you strike a small bird (check, ANYTHING) or cruise about 400 feet. The package contains no usable floatation devices, oxygen masks, seat cushions that double as rafts, inflatable life boats, flashing homing beacons, stewardesses to comfort you during rocky turbulence or 95 pound Peruvian grandmothers who can't speak English yet seem to sit in the exit row of every flight I am on. I could honestly spend 29.95 making wings out of particle board and have a better chance at survival leaping off a two story building. Just listen to what their spokesman, JFK Jr. has to say:

"Having to do it all over again, I'd fly coach."

TFLN

In other news, Texts From Last Night may be the funniest website on the Net right now. FML is still a great read, but no other site in the past few months has put me in so much pain from laughter/anguish/self loathing as TFLN. I think it strikes a very personal chord because I have either received or given nearly identical texts with my friends (many of whom are readers of this) and as I write I received one that said "my ass is so hairy that wiping is like smearing peanut butter through shag carpeting." Gah-ross.

As a "Happy Friday" routine that I provide to most of my close friends, I decide to pick out a select few from each day of the week. Here is a list of what I believe are some of the highlights:

(310): Her vagina felt like a horse was eating an apple out of my hand..

(248): don't worry, i already broke the ice when i told the story about how i super glued a picture of big bird to my vag

(714): thats the last time I fuck a piece of fruit on camera for him

(651): You know its been a rough night when you wake up and the first thing you remember is your mom going skinny dipping.

(337): They told me I spent half the night at the club with one ball hanging out my shorts. Apparently it got me 1 free drink, 2 numbers, and thrown out.

(631): I cant date a girl that sucks dick at sucking dick

(443): Hey baby girl when you gonna let my tongue get up in that ass like i'm an explorer trying to go deep under on a quest for the lost city of atlantis
(757): your text was fucking rediculious. Will let you eat my asshole though.

(917): She just squirted all over my face. then laughed at me and took a pic

(208): Brandon just fucked that chick! I tried to warn him but T9 said she had "puppy roses" instead of "pussy sores"

(404): He jizzed my face. I had to ask for a washcloth. He ran his underwear under the water and handed them to me. Not so romantic.

(902): Her vagina smelled like hockey gear.

(516): You were asking people if they could pee on you while you shotgunned beers

(972): Sometimes I stick my finger in my own ass and pretend it’s a vagina. I think it’s kinda weird. What do you think?

(630): I've officially put my junk in foods from 5 of the 6 layers of the nutrition pyramid

(918): Can I use cash for clunkers to trade in her boobs for a new set of 18 year old tits?
(305): Its worth a shot.

(423): i don't have fun when you have fun. i have embarrassment, fear, and significantly less cash in my wallet.

(519): and then she said I drew a line on her forehead with my cum and whispered "Simba" - best of the week!

(720): have you ever been in a public bathroom and someone walked in, and you played "Fat or Crying" based on her breathing?

(714): he whipped it out and it smelt like my toilet after taco Tuesday

(978): You litterally reached into some girls shirt, pulled out her tit and yelled "whats up with this guy?"

Friday Nonsense

With the weekend now upon me, I am debating trying to do weekend updates. I feel like if I don't then what is the point of this blog; however, if I make the effort, people will expect it of me. The quality of my writing may naturally decrease with how many beers I consume during said weekend. However, that could lead to the start of "Blogs from Last Night." - I really am a trailblazer.

Anyway, here is what I am laughing at right now. This video is of Delonte West, shooting guard for the Cleveland Cavs. This self-made video was filmed while Delonte and his counsin waited 18 minutes for their KFC. Apparently, these are good spirited and calm men. First off, I only eat KFC at gunpoint. Secondly, if I had to wait for KFC for that long I'd either be completely unconscious and unable to loudly bitch or I would find the next living decedent of Colonel Sanders and angrily fist her (if it's a him I'd just continue to bitch loudly).

Until next time....Seeyah!

The return of Adam Richman and Texas fatties - Yeehaw!

Last night marked the return of one of my favorite shows on television - Man vs. Food. Sure, it doesn't have the drama of a Grey's Anatomy (gag), the perilously twisting plot of LOST (boner) or Carlos Mencia (dead), but what it does have is hearty portions of Adam "The Disposal" Richman.

Honestly, I think he's tied as the best cable tv show host with Mike Rowe - and that's tough to say because Mike Rowe is about as suave as it gets. I know I am leaving out such stalwarts as Bear Grylls and Alton Brown, but give me a choice of who I want to host a show and I'm picking A. Rich. The dude is so passionate and fired up about everything he does.

If you haven't seen the show before, here is a quick synopsis: Adam Richman is not a chef, a competitive eater, or by some accounts, a human being. He travels around to major cities across the US and takes on their "toughest eating challenge" while simultaneously allowing the viewer to catch a glimpse of other renowned chow-down spots in they city. This man has beaten the 72 ounce steak in Amarillo, the hottest wings IMAGINABLE in San Jose, and other culinary contests that will shock and awe you. Sometimes the food wins, most of the time he does. His feasting feats are what Rosie O'Donnell would refer to as "a slow Tuesday."

Quick recap: The season kicked off with Adam traveling to San Antonio, home to the Alamo and, according to the televisi-ohno camera, loads of fatties. While I cannot begin to neither speculate nor stereotype the people of San Antonio, I have been to Texas many times and fat, sweaty mouth breathers is just about the norm. For God's sake, Houston is statistically the fattest city in the country - I guess I was just expecting a little more from these folks.

During his quest for consumption, Adam's first stop was Lulu's Cafe and Bakery - the birthplace of obstructed arteries, type 2 diabeties and a three and a half pound cinnamon roll. If the over 6 feet worth of dough or the melted butter wasn't enough to clog my visceral colon, the end product put me on the negative side of nautious.

Adam's second stop was to Big Lou's pizza - home of the, yes and you are about to read this correctly, 3 and a half feet wide 30 POUND PIZZA. As the chef claimed last night, the tin looked like King Kong's Frisbee. Each piece was as tall as a newborn baby (or a fully-grown Asian man) and was loaded with every animal known to man. While I was shocked and sickened by the cinnamon roll, the pizza looked phenomenal. However, looking back, I think it was the clean waitresses and semi-decent health codes of the establishment that really made this meal attractive. Call me old-fashioned, but I am used to our local Pizza Hut waitress's cigarette ashes falling on my pie as she serves me - this occurs immediately after she doesn't wash her hands after using the stand-up urinal.

Adam's final stop of the evening was to Chunky's Burgers, a rather Texas-esque eatery that serves the "hottest burger in the West." Simply put, the 4 Horsemen Challenge.

Arn Anderson has somethin spiiiiiceeeaay for ya!

The 1/2 pound burger is a 100% all beef monster topped with jalepenos, serranos (Yo bartender! Jobu needs a refill), habaneros and the world's hottest, the Naga Jolokia (or Ghost Chili) - a pepper nearly 4 times as hot as the habanero. It's then smothered with cheese and doused with habanero sauce; a combination which no public-restroom janitor wants to clean up after. The rules are simple: you have 25 minutes to eat the burger (they gave him plastic surgical gloves to avoid the damage it could do to your hands) and then you have to endure 5 grueling minutes of "after burn" - no napkins, milk, beer, popsicles, or personal relief. Out of the over 100 nutcases who have attempted it, only three have ever accomplished it. To put it into perspective. It took Adam almost 7 minutes to take his second bite. It was nearly uncomfortable to watch him double over, barely able to breath, barely making an impact. For the record, Paris Hilton is a vegetarian and she takes way more beef than that in her first mouthful.

Thankfully, Adam is able to muster through and finish the burger, a feat which he later described as "the most excruciatingly painful challenge he has ever taken."

Better have those moist towlettes ready...for wiping.

Overall, Adam Richman is a far better man than most of us. He has an insanely cool gig, eats some of the best food in America and is generally funny (his subtle, underhanded humor is well played). I wonder if whatever comes out of Adam's ass burns half as bad as whatever is going into Robert Patterson's...

Til next time...SEEYAH!

What is making me laugh today: http://funnyvideos.todaysbigthing.com/2009/07/29