I want to get a vending machine, with fun sized candy bars, and the glass in front is a magnifying glass. You’ll be mad, but it will be too late. Mitch Hedberg
I want to get a vending machine, with fun sized candy bars, and the glass in front is a magnifying glass. You’ll be mad, but it will be too late. Mitch Hedberg
The clouds are finally in and the rain is finally cold. The wedding finally happened. The beer didn’t grow old. Myriad J’s, L’s, growlers, vows, and cake were tossed around the passed few days in order to give you these two oh so lovely pictures. And no, I didn’t fuck with the second one; some people are just into stupid shit.
The bride and the groom by table light.
Totally rushing them in the fall.
And because this post is just so shitty here’s a link to something worthwhile.
Me: Oh your bra is still in Dave and Jamie’s room. I was gonna grab it but I hoped that for once a bra I found on the ground wasn’t yours.
Highly: Much to your dismay, it was mine.
Me: Much to your dismay, it’s still there.
Five minutes after…
Highly: I’m like a tattoo you never wanted to get, but you got drunk and did it anyways.
On Yobeat with a Jed Anderson interview. Thank god it’s supplemented with wickedsick skateboard moves. Click that photo just a little down there if you know what’s good.
Also make sure to add to the already sterling commentary. Thanks Brooke!
“18 tigers, 17 lions, three mountain lions, six black bears, two grizzlies, a baboon, and a wolf” are the figures for how many wild animals were shot and killed by Ohio police yesterday according to the Pittsburg Post-Gazette.
The animals escaped from the wild animal park Wednesday, just after the owner of the animal park, Terry Thompson, was found dead Tuesday evening. School was cancelled in the surrounding areas and police are still uncertain as to how the owner died and how the animals all escaped from their cages. Suicide is not being ruled out even though a note has not been found.
While some of the animals that escaped may have had possible bacteria in them that was dangerous to humans, the fact is shoot-to-kill instructions were given and that is quite harsh especially considering that six of the animals- like three leopards and a bear- were rescued and taken to a local zoo. If they could capture three lions and a grizzly bear what was stopping them from doing so with the other animals? I understand that they were a ‘danger’ to the public but I mean come on, a Jumanji type scenario actually happening? Get the fuck out, I want that to happen.
What’s that mom? School’s cancelled because of lions and tigers being loose? Oh my!
Sorry Zane, I wanted to come over and play with your sister’s dolls, but there’s a wolf howling outside my window.
Awesome! I want that shit to happen a-s-a-p. But you know what? Cops played out their usual audible for panic situations and decided to use the old animal kingdom blitz(kreig?) This is what that play looks like after the fact:
Instead of PETA having the chutzpah to say anything about the fact that fifty something odd wild animals were killed without a single report of one of them attacking a human being, the blamed the owner for maltreatment of the animals and the governor for allowing citizens to privately own wild animals. Yeah, let’s not negate the fact that the last time this many wild animals died by gunfire at once on American soil was NEVER.
“In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonight.” - The Lion King
Breathe in hold it and don’t say no
i know what you want to do
breathe out and stay because i know what’s true
i know you want to take a page from me
but life’s pulp won’t tear easily
this is when i eat the words out of your mouth
savoring time that crept ocean’s south
what a delicious deal with a smile on your face
a devious meal made with lips of grace
so with fork and plan i lend a hand
only arriving on death’s hot sand
no more awkward smiles made of shattered glass
no more halls dripping with my mind’s past
hours could be days made of half-mast delays
yet your dark eyes seek out only those who praise
so you found me looking for a special nothing
and i found it so well
kissed by a girl whose lips do sell
i’ve done it for so long
coming on too strong
waiting for anything to matter
that ship has sailed and my world is flatter
no dimension to the face i saw
no appeal to love’s law
just another girl who wasted my time
just another girl spitting on my mind
Yet another album leaking through just in time for the cool fall daze.
(Click the cross)
So i’m here at coffee shop, X, within close enough proximity of female subjects, A and B, to get a whiff of scent, C, and be Disgusted by it. Why do girls spray themselves down with ass scented crap? It’s gross. Why do girls do a lot of silly and not-well-thought-out-but-I-think-it’s-attractive things. Here’s a short list of how girls can ruin themselves.
Wearing awful perfumes.
Basically anything from womens’ Dillards which is synonymous with grandma’s bathroom.
Abbreviating words in speech.
Sure it’s cool with cell phones, whatever, you’re lazy. I get it, your thumbs are tired. However if you evs tell me ‘gain that your lil’ sis is totes jelly of you i’m g-o-i-n-g- t-o- l-o-s-e- i-t.
Not drinking beer.
Or really liking Chelsea Handler books. A sure fire way to the patterns of a ‘princess’. Especially uttering the blasphemous, “All beer tastes the same.” No it fucking doesn’t.
Liking Ashton Kutcher.
Liking Ashton Kutcher is a certain doom. Guy sucks. You like him. You suck.
Skateboarding or longboarding.
I get that girls love proving that they can do anything boys can do but the next thing you’re going to tell me is that smoking hookah and listening to Sublime are your next two favorite activities.
Being a vegan.
Looks like i’m never taking you out to dinner.
Come to New Mexico!
Listen to Craft Spells.
Listen to Youth Lagoon.
Listen to Olivia Newton John.
Blackberries all over the world are getting jammed up. Sounds delicious.
This is my senior journalism paper from May 2010. We had to cover a topic that was ‘controversial’ and hopefully get it published in the school paper. This had so much controversial information and activity in it the school paper, The Round Up, refused to publish it. I also tried to get Vice’s drug overlord Hamilton Morris to comment. He didn’t. Guess what suckas, i’ll publish my own shit.
In our New Mexican desert resides the Cooper’s ice plant, or delosperma cooperi. It is an ethnobotanical that contains the chemical DMT. DMT stands for dimethyltryptamine and is a very potent visual psychedelic that is not only found in certain plants but according to science and a bunch of websites online it is the most powerful psychedelic known to man.
Cooper’s Ice Plant
It was decided that in order to get the full blown low down on this ice plant and its drug properties someone would have to find and smoke it. A certain someone I know agreed and he goes by Dr. Liam Smith, 21, of Truth or Consequences. No he’s not a real doctor. On Wednesday afternoon Dr. Smith sent a text saying he found some ice plant and that he had “some awesome news”, so the hour drive north to T or C was made.Upon my arrival Dr. Smith tells me they found ice plant that was already dried up so that part of the process is taken care of, and then immediately states that this night would not just be consisting of smoking the ice plant. A few of Dr. Smith’s friends would be bringing over whiskey, hash and a few other party favors. Smith has taken a plethora of illegal substances but the combination that he partook in this night was a first. While waiting to hear from his friends Smith loads a bowl of marijuana pot and smokes it with his roommate, Apprentice. Apprentice is 19 and has a younger brother named Big Guy. His name is Big Guy because he’s 13 years-old and is 6’3’’. Big Guy is a full decade younger than I am and is already bigger than I will ever be, oh genetics. Big Guy didn’t partake in smoking a bowl but he mentions that he tried to smoke a dandelion when he was eight. The doctor of the house is still smoking weed and I ask him how hard it was to find the ice plant. Dr. Smith replies, “ Only 15 minutes, but it’s not just at parks. We saw it in someone’s yard and took it.” After revealing the method used to find the plant, the good doctor Smith took a pinch of the dried ice plant and ate it. This was done purely to sample the taste of the plant, not induce hallucination. Immediately after the ice plant entered Smith’s mouth, his face scrunched up and twisted as he muscled down the bite. “It tastes like someone put their butthole in my mouth,” Smith remarked. Around 7:30 p.m. is when Dr. Smith’s friends, Shandolph, 21, and Floyd, 20, are picked up. Shandolph is wearing a sombrero, and Floyd has his Border Collie, Slick, with him. At this juncture more alcohol is purchased, a 30-pack and two pints of Jim Beam. Upon getting back to Smith’s house, Floyd asks if he can go pick up his friend Dako, 20, who wants to partake in the evening’s activities. Smith lends Floyd his car and goes inside to start preparing the ice plant for consumption. Back inside the house beers are cracked open and Dr. Smith admits that he’s seen Shandolph drunk more than he’s seen her sober. Shandolph confirms that this is true and then more weed is smoked and Smith grinds the ice plant down to smoke it. At 8:35 Shandolph and Apprentice start taking swigs of Jim Beam out of the bottle, “Because that’s how we do it,” proclaims Shandolph. At 8:40 p.m., while waiting for Dr. Smith to get the plant into smoking form, Apprentice eats the non dry ice plant raw. “It’s the saltiest thing I’ve ever eaten and I could get poisoned,” Apprentice said in an eerily calm voice. While Smith is almost done grinding up the dried ice plant, Shandolph suggests that hash is put into the bowl of ice plant, and Smith and Apprentice second and third the motion. With ten minutes till nine o’clock a three foot tall bong is brought out and is chosen as the device to smoke the hash and ice plant bowl. The bowl is packed and while Jim Beam is being consumed alongside multiple beers, Shandolph asks if anyone wants to snort percocet. (Percocet is a narcotic pain reliever used on people with temperate to severe pain). A few shouts of “I’ll do it!” are heard and Smith then asks if anyone wants to buy ecstasy. At 9:02 p.m. Liam Smith smokes the bong bowl with hash and ice plant. The way to induce a trip from smoking ice plant is to keep smoking it until one feels that they can take no more. Smith does exactly this and proceeds to cough really hard for 10 minutes. His face turns bright red after he tokes the bowl nine times. After the bowl is done Smith admits, ”I definitely feel something.” This quickly turns into what Dr. Smith describes as “moderate detachment”. At this juncture the night takes a turn for the weirder. Dr. Smith says he has a fierce headache but then proclaims as happy as can be that he can make mescaline that night too. For those that either don’t know what mescaline is or don’t how to use Google mescaline is a naturally occurring psychedelic alkaloid. It is found in certain cacti and specifically in one that Smith has, the San Pedro cactus. Dr. Smith tells me he was at a plant store and they had the San Pedro for $20 and he just couldn’t say no. As a joke Floyd cuts off a bite of the cactus and tries to eat it. He spits it out faster than he tried to eat it and downs a beer to relieve himself of the awful taste.
The San Pedro cactus 9:15 p.m. is when Dr. Smith cuts the cactus off its base and proceeds to shave it down. Big Guy finds a pot and starts to boil water in order to cook the cactus to extract the mescaline from it. Meanwhile Floyd plugs in Smith’s guitar to an amp and starts strumming it. Since Smith had been “partying” for a couple of hours he is asked how he feels. “ A little strange but I’ve been drinking and smoking for a while,” Smith said. Shortly there after Shandolph takes a shot of Jim Beam and then yells, “Pete tastes like tequila!” Floyd and Apprentice ask Shandolph to clarify but her explanations only make the matter more complicated. “What do you mean?” inquires Apprentice. In a long drawn out voice Shandolph shares her wisdom, “You don’t get it, the tequila tastes like Pete!” Everyone listening admits they really don’t get it, and then Shandolph reveals that when she says Pete she means the taste of Pete’s member. At 9:26 p.m. Floyd, Shandolph, Smith and Dako snort portly lines of percocet. After this is done the cut up cactus goes in the boiling pot of water. “If you boil it down it takes a third of the time to make,” informs Dr. Smith. DMT is a familiar substance to Shandolph and she explained how much fun the drug was when she took it. “I felt like I was walking through a forest…You can’t have a bad trip off DMT,” Shandolph said. Shandolph must have really liked her trips on DMT because she kept talking about them for another fifteen minutes straight. “The good feeling that DMT gives you stays for a while and it’s nothing uncomfortable,” Shandolph said. “It felt like thirty minutes in a world that wasn’t mine,” Shandolph said. At 9:40 p.m. the first major step of cooking the cactus is done and the first batch of the light green broth that is mescaline is put into a pot to keep warm. The process is started over again and more cactus is boiled. After the first batch of liquid is ready everyone in the room agrees the mescaline stew smells exactly like green chile pasta, and it’s delicious. 10:00 p.m. is when the beer starts flowing again and multiple beer bongs are done, even Big Guy takes one. After his beer bong, Big Guy decides to try a taste of the San Pedro cactus just like Floyd did. “I never eaten shit before, I imagine that’s what shit tastes like,” Big Guy says. At this point Smith takes what is left of the ground up ice plant and rolls it into an eight inch long joint. Ten minutes later Floyd and Smith smoke the whole thing. When all is smoked, Floyd immediately goes back over to the guitar and plays it for a minute. Shortly thereafter Smith takes over and starts doing a perfect rendition of Kansas’ “Dust in the Wind”. Apparently this type of thing happens more often than not because Apprentice admits they get like this often and that, “You should be here on party nights!” This is after he has had multiple beers, shots of whiskey, weed, smoked ice plant, hash and a couple hydrocodones. But no, the party nights are where it’s at. At 10:18 p.m. Apprentice tells me, “We do a lot of powder drugs.” I ask Dr. Smith how often these these nights happen and he admits, “Weekly probably, sometimes we binge for a couple weeks though.” After this revelation everyone decides shots of whiskey are a splendid idea. I ask Smith what drugs he isn’t cool with and he admits that he’s never done meth, and that he’s “down with everything that’s not meth.” At 10:25 p.m. Smith checks the mescaline stew and even he thinks it smells like pasta and green chile. He then snorts a line of percocet and says, “my facebook says I’m doing drugs.” About a minute later Dr. Smith tells me ,“my Twitter is awesome.” From about 10:30 to 11:00 p.m. the order of events goes like this. Floyd and Dako smoke another giant bowl of chronic. Smith then mashes up the cactus to get more mescaline, he uses the large bong to mash the cactus. Then he trades out the bong for a huge coffee mug and mashes the cactus even more. Another bowl is smoked between Floyd, Apprentice and Dako. Then more lines of percocet are snorted, with a hundred dollar bill that belongs to Shandolph. Big Guy then takes a beer bong and stirs the mescaline stew more. Someone loads a hookah bowl and then at exactly 11:00 p.m. Smith strains the cactus and a large amount of green liquid comes out. He assures “it will be a good time.” “I haven’t died yet,” Floyd interjects. A little passed eleven is when Shandolph’s friend J comes over. He has a long pony tail and looks exactly like the guy figurines from a “Homies” vending machine. J immediately pulls out a bag with large coins of hash and a few cheers are uttered because J announces he wants to hot knife.
At 11:17 p.m. Smith offers to make the green dragon. Seeing as that I have no idea what it is Smith explains to me that the green dragon is when one takes lemon extract and weed and processes the two in order to make a liquid with a very high concentration of THC, the part of marijuana that actually gets a person “high”. Dr. Smith says that while visually he doesn’t see much the bowl of ice plant and hash has given him a really heavy body high. “I’m a drug scientist,” Smith tells me.Shandolph goes to the couch and passes out cold. At 11:35 p.m. the night has claimed its first victim, and the green dragon is ready to be consumed. The liquid is a deep murky green that is very potent. Smith suggests that those trying it should only put a drop or two under their tongue. He has had the best luck with this method. A few minutes later Shandolph wakes up in a rather lively state as if she had slept for hours. Big Guy then tries the green dragon. “It’s spicy, it has a zing to it,” Big Guy said. Dr. Smith has some of the green dragon and says that it burns.
The green dragon
At quarter till midnight Smith has his fifth beer bong of the night. He pukes in the kitchen sink right after but smiles through the entire process. After composing himself Smith takes an entire shot of the green dragon then makes weird faces. “That was bad news,” Smith said. He immediately goes outside and comes back a few minutes later assuring everyone that he did not puke again.After Smith’s return to the kitchen more hot knives ensue. J and Smith go back and forth about whether the plastic tube or a toilet paper roll is better to use when taking hot knife hits. Every time J starts explaining that a toilet paper roll is more scientific he rolls the “s” like a damn slippery snake in a Disney movie. After 20 minutes of arguing the matter is resolved by the two realizing they can use both and be happy, although Dr. Smith clearly thinks that J’s argument was bullshit. J then takes out more hash and exclaims, “I am the hash king!” Just after midnight Dr. Smith takes out some Ben and Jerry’s and informs everyone that the mescaline will be ready in twenty minutes. J, who has had roughly eight hot knife hash hits, starts rapping and sings the chorus in falsetto. Smith starts talking about music after he is finished with his ice and gives insight into rock genres of the 1980’s and 1990’s. “80’s rock is buttrock, 90’s rock is cockrock,” Smith said. The whole time Smith is explaining this J can be heard speaking about how his drugs are “the bomb” and what good deals he has to offer. “I hook you up with the real deal Holyfield,” J said. Apprentice, who has been standing in the kitchen listening to J in amazement publicly realizes his mental state and says, “I am tore up.’’ J has not stopped talking for a good thirty minutes and continually utters phrases like a guest emcee on a No Limit records compilation. “I get crazy wid it foo, I punish y’all muthafuckas!” J yells this out and then goes back to punishing his lungs with his tenth hot knife hit. By 12:30 J has taken over discussion the kitchen and proceeds to tell his story of how he quit smoking cigarettes cold turkey. During this tale J pompously states that he used to take other people’s full packs of cigarettes and destroy them because he hated cigarettes that much, “Fools would be trippin’ over that shit,” affirms J. Then for a reason unbeknownst to anyone in the room J flashes thousands of dollars in hundreds and twenties. He says if we ever need “some help with something” he’s the guy to call. He puts his money away and then takes his millionth hot knife hit. By 12:45 a.m. everyone starts talking about sleep and most everyone either heads upstairs or to the couches to crash out, myself included. Smith, Floyd and Apprentice get blankets and pillows for everyone staying the night, and J leaves. Everyone except Smith goes to sleep. I wake up at 7:30 a.m. leave to get back to Las Cruces because it’s where I attend university. On the way back I text Dr. Smith to make sure the previous night hadn’t killed him. He replies a half an hour later and says, “Alive and well, that was odd. Hahahaha.” Apparently after everyone went to sleep Dr. Smith did take the mescaline, but it was no normal trip. “I laid in bed trying to figure out what chemicals were impacting me in what way. No luck on that one,” Smith said. The doctor tells me that the mescaline didn’t hit him until three and he was up feeling weird until five a.m. The visuals involved some “shutter vision” according to Smith. A brief conversation with Smith is had two days later, and I ask him when he thinks the group will have another night like they did Wednesday. “Maybe tonight,” Smith says. One could only hope.
- Billy Mummy
I’ve got the best friends in the whole fucking world. I’m a lamen dude and have been for a few weeks now; this means i’ve got next to nothing in my bank account. However my friends pay the way for me to do some pretty rad shit.Thanks to them I drank free beer, ate free pizza, and saw Beirut in Santa Fe on Friday. As if that wasn’t enough I came back to Abq on Saturday, picked them up from a beer fest, drove them around for a little, and then they dropped this funny money on dinner because they felt like it (being awesome). So while you may not know my friends, you may know how lucky you are to have certain people in your life. Thanks dudes.*
* The only bad shit that went down was seeing my friend get hit by a car while skating in the rain only to have that car drive away. He’s fine today! Oh, and having some random guy pull up next to me while I was walking home jand ask me if he could suck my dick.
I love hollandaise sauce, and I think my roommate does too. If only she knew how to spell it! Girl your spelling is
(Shitting can be great fun happy times)
For most of the people that crap these days dumping down is a rather mundane and sad process. Ew, it smells like shit. I just sat in piss. What the hell did I drink last night? Or one of my favorites, realizing mid-dump that you have to waddle downstairs to get napkins because you don’t have toilet paper. It’s one thing after another on the cons and nothing on the pros. Think about it. No one talks about how lovely their shits are (except me to myself while i’m on the john because no one else cares, which is completely understandable). While there really isn’t room for debate on how gross shitting is, one can take private pleasure in certain activities while using the toilet. I call them “toiletivities”.
Drinking a beer
I just realized I haven’t done this one in a week and I have to excuse my dinner from my bowels so be back in a jiff! Alright, that felt great. I highly recommend this one because the beer not only acts as a tasty beverage but an odor blocker for your nose. (For all I know I just took an Oktoberfesturd). In fact, I bet having a mixed drink would be nice too so let’s just say drinking an “adult” beverage is a sound idea.
Calling your friends
I’ve been on the receiving end of these calls more times than i’d care to remember but the bold are rewarded. You crap, you call, you chat. You crap-n-chat. Two birds, one shit.
Going through junk mail (thanks Kyle)
Weed out those 2-for-1 toilet paper specials!
Smoking a fatty
Ohhh this little doozy. Smoking green? Check. Depending on the stank of your dank? Odor masking. And last but not least, you’re still taking a shit! See how much fun this can be? It’s quite the cleanse. You let something go, you take something in. A splash of cold water to the face (after) and it’s like being reborn (but high).
Sanitary multitasking at its finest. Clipping your fingernails is a tedious to do so why waste time by doing it as a solo task? Get it out of the way before it gets in your way. Advising someone to clip their toenails while they’re blasting ass is ill-advised because the combination of dirty feet and dukey may lead you to pukey.
Singing is fun no matter who or where you are. Be it a trained vocalist or karaoke cop out, singing is a good time. Get those lyrics for your next karaoke session or opera solo down pat, and work on breathing and controlling your diaphragm. (Good breathing techniques are also great for pooping). Hell you could even ad-lib a song about how bad your shit may stink, but at least you’d have a laugh doing so.
Girls always worry about what they eat! It starts at a young age, namely the one when they start picking up Cosmo in the check out aisle. (Teeny-bippers?) Humans of the female persuasion latch onto this state of mind that says, “The only way you can stay fit is to watch what you eat.” In some cases this may be true and to all those Jenny Craig weight watching suckas out there a new gaggle of gals have gustered up a new whirlybird. I stumbled across a new technique going around these days that goes far beyond your normal “eats”. The college crowd of today is now keen and let me tell you it’s the most substantial effort to combine a life of good health with a life of pleasure to date. The conversation went something like this.
Girl 1: “[Blah blah blah blah] boners.”
Girl 2: “Oh for sure you can burn calories that way, think about the motion.”
Girl 2: [A not so subtle dick sucking motion is actioned]
Girl 1: “Ya you definitely burn calories by sucking dick.”
Girl 1: “Wait, do you think if it’s harder then it’s going to burn more calories?”
Girl 2: “Well it’s bigger so maybe.”
Girl 1: “I’m the one who would be burning calories and eating a dick.”
And there you have it! Girls are really digging deep to keep those hips happy, even though hips don’t perform fellatio (mouths do). I chose not to chime in because I don’t worry about burning calories or sucking summer sausage, but the fact that girls have gone as far as thinking about whether or not blowing balls equates to burning calories is something else. New day, new age.*
*And on the note of this being a new day and age I fully support people, not just women (that would be sexist), giving head to burn face calories or whatever it is that science hasn’t proven yet. If clinicals ensure, I want in!
Yes, I found the mushroom kingdom.
They really should be.