My Satanic Cousin Matt
you tell me you love me while you poop your pants
I love that you call me in midst defecation
It makes me feel special, listening to you shit
when I hear the sound of water a'splashing,
when you have the gas,
when I have the ache in my stomach I try,
I'm sad, I hear flushing,
now you wash your hands,
when I finally greet you at the end of the day,
last week you decided not to flush at all,
Pee Tip #3I don't know if I'm the only one who has this problem or not, but everytime I go pee, I just can't shake it all out and I end up dripping on myself. This wasn't always the case. Seems like the more pussy I receive, the less control I have of my own urine. So, I'm in the bathroom at work everyday, blowdrying the front exterior of my pants. (Pee really shows on wool.) My buddy Derek says this happens to him too, so I know it's not just me. I just thought that once I stopped drinking, I was less likely to pee on myself. This was not the case at all. I would ask Dr. Dickhead for some advise, but I'd rather see him sink lower into his depression so I can witness his demise. If he decides to blow his brains out, I will supply him with the shotgun, and I promise I'll video tape it so you all can see. That would be awesome. Oh, shit! I have to take a piss again. Damn.
Pee Tip #2Let's say your girlfriend is very sick and feels like shit and she doesn't want to get up off the fucking couch to do anything. So you keep getting up and getting her stuff as you sit there and watch TV, or what have you. Then her bladder kicks in and decides it has to release some of the toxins that are filling it. But she doesn't want to get up still, and you can't very well go to the bathroom for her. So...here's what you do. Go out to the backyard and cut yourself off a good length of hose. (Measure the distance from the couch to the bathroom if you're unsure of how much you'll need.) Take the dirty end of the hose and stick it down into the toilet so that it's secure. Run the hose to wherever your little lady is and procede to shove inside her like a drain snake. Then...just wait and watch the magic! (Much more entertaining if you can find a clear hose.) She'll never want to get up to go to the bathroom again!
Sperm DealerSperm Dealer: You may not know this, but many women will pay big money for your sperm. Unfortunately for me, they usually read your profile, and most women want a tall, handsome, intellegent donor with no sign of mental problems in his family background. This exiles me from the whole ordeal. Then I thought about it. "Who would want a short, stupid baby who may possibly experience signs of manic depression in it's later years?" Then it came to me....giants. Yes, maybe a giant woman would want my midget sperm so she has a better chance of having a normal sized child. My shortness factor could cancel out her giantism and produce a normal healthy little bundle of joy. So...I'm looking into it. Any way to make an extra buck.
BigfootThere's this huge hairy lady here we dubbed "Sasquatch". She drinks alot of Dr. Pepper. One time at the soda machine she just started blurting out how her boyfriend punches her every night and how it's driving her crazy. I was standing there pretending to be totally uninterested, when in reality I couldn't believe my ears and couldn't wait to hear what crap she had to say next. My buddy says, "So why don't you just leave him". She explains, "Well, he helped me through college and I owe him that. But he dosen't have a job and just sits there and watches TV all day. Then when I come home...he beats me". So my buddy goes, "Well then I guess he deserves to be able to throw a few blows in once and a while". Now in most cases this would be a concern, to me and whoever else was there to hear this sad confession. If this was some petite little cutie, you would feel like something must be done to this abusive bastard. But this isn't really a woman we're talking about here, it's definitely a Bigfoot. In the morning, when everybody shows up in their cars, or on their bikes; she mysteriously appears from behind the trees. Sometimes you can hear the lonely cry of the Sasquatch out behind the railroad tracks, where she goes off to at lunch. Kind of a loud Chewbacca roar, but somehow.....sadness. AAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHH!!! We could picture her taking blows. BAM! Growwwwwwwllll! SMACK! Rooooooaaaaaaoooooarrrr! BLAMO! RRRRRRAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! Off in the distance somewhere you can see her conversing with her only friend, Nessy. Only Nessy understands the pain of the abused Sasquatch. Her sheer terror brings me to tears. Tears of hysterical joy.
Public Service Annoucement: Now, just because I'm evil does not mean I believe in Sasquatch abuse. Please, if you ever run into a Sasquatch while camping or hiking, do not harm or molest the Sasquatch in any way. Their nature is undetermined, but they seem to be nice, plant-eating creatures who try to stay out of public view to live their lives in peace. However, if you happen to work with a Sasquatch who shaves herself down and learns English and is trying to trick you into believing she's human, and then looks to you for sympathy. If you cannot retreat and avoid the confrontation somehow, I give you my licensed permission to draw forth and strike the animal in fear and frustration. Thank you.
Three Of The Most Disgusting, Vomit-Inducing Things I (Pinback) Have Ever Read
Thing #1: Oh, dude! I got the clamydia eurethra swabbing this morning! Yeah, I thought, a blood test would be a good idea. To find out weather or not I have some weird STD. Not that I've had any symtoms what-so-ever. So the Dr. goes, "Well, we'll test you for the big ones. HIV of course. Syphilis is coming back in a big way. And Hepititas. How about Clamydia?"
So he pulls out this long apparatus with a cotton swab on the end. He tells me to hold my penis hole open and he shoves the thingy in there and begins to twist. 1 time. I'm screaming at this point. 2 times. I'm feeling faint and still screaming. 3 times. I think I'm going to die.
It's all over now and my penis hole is flamming. Especially when I have to pee. Yeah. That was exciting. Thanks for sharing...
Thing #2: I'm wearing a tie today. It matches the zit on my nose perfectly. I'm very color coordinated. I keep telling people how good I look and they kinda' roll their eyes. People think something is wrong with me because I haven't flipped anyone off today...yet.
So it goes...-Vonnegut
Thing #3: Why guys like Anal Sex:
Um, yes...here goes. I really have to concentrate to cum. Most guys don't. Sometimes I don't, but ususally I do. Anyway, keeping that in mind, when I fuck a girl in her ass, most of the time it is because she tells me to. I mean, I'm not going to say, "No way, you crazy sick bitch." But while I'm doing so, I can't get the thought of shit out of my head. Is that weird? I don't think so. Because that's what your penis is sliding against when you have anal sex. So it fucks up my concentration. The only time I've really wanted to have butt sex was when it was a last resort because the pussy was just too thrashed and lose or dry and I couldn't cum. But still I can't cum. I've never cum in a girl's ass. Bummer huh? Yeah. But for the most part guy's like it because---- A: They need a tighter hole; or---B: They're really gay.
What Really Happened?Just to clear up all the lies about the 1st Annual PWC meeting and all its happenings, I will now give my version and you believe what you want!
"What are you going to believe, me or your own eyes!?!?!" - I don't remember who said that.5pm: I arrive, only to find Pin and Clash hastily zipping up their pants. I imagine, before I got there that Pin had his legs wrapped around Clash's pretty little head. Clash, licking with ecstasy, tossing Pin's salad. This is only what I'm ass-uming, of course, only because, even after their pants were back on, Pin couldn't get Clash's lips off his ass.
5:15pm: I give Clash all the drugs he required. (This is really the only reason we were all in the same room, Clash's habit.) I don't know how far Clash's hypocrisy goes, working for a law school / closet junkie. Poor bastard. So, I do all I can for him, and he repays me with mean falsifications and slander, which I will soon be suing him for.
5:16pm: At this point I'm bored and want to leave. Pinback gives me some good pizza so I stay and watch gay football in the snow.
5:30pm: I try to talk Pinback into ordering some more pizza, but he insists on making dinner. So I wait, get real high on Clash's supply.
7pm: They wake me up and we sit down to eat this god awful meal prepared by highly acclaimed gourmet chef Pinback. Dry pork fat on a bed of rice with some weird banana looking fruit/potato that tastes like dirt. While I'm shoveling all the food into a doggie bag, Clash goes on and on about how good the food is. He kisses Pin after every bite and doesn't even wipe his dirty disgusting face.
7:15pm: I get the fuck out of Dodge. I figure, they'll have a more intimate time without me there. I don't like to impose, or be a third wheel. They were talking about going to the bar. Pinback wouldn't even let me sit on his couch. What a jerk! This is the last time I go over there. What a nightmare....a boorish occasion indeed.
Valentine's DayTip of the day: Do not ask girlfriend if it's okay to go see Slayer on Valentine's Day.
This is what will happen:
"Honey is it okay if maybe we celebrate Valentine's Day maybe a day early this year? You see........Slayer is playing on Valentine's Day, and I know I just saw them last month, but Dave Lombardo is playing drums for them for the first time in like 12 years!
"I can't believe you are even asking me that." click
(That's the phone hanging up.)
Then later via email.....:
you are an asshole. go ahead and go to stupid slayer and leave me alone on Valentines day, if that is what makes you happy and I will just do something for myself...by the way I am not talking to you right now.
So there you go. Don't under-estimate the power of Valentine's Day, whatever the fuck that is. It's all just a fucking scam. Sham? You are judged on that one day! You could do nice things all year long, but that's all forgotten if you skip Valentine's Day. You cannot denounce Valentine's Day. Major error. Do not...ever. Don't even try....They'll never let you forget it....ever!
Jason the Gay JewI work with this idiot called Jason Spielberg. He claims to be Steven Spielberg's cousin, but we all know he's just another dirty filthy Jew somofabitch. Jason is not gay. He insists. So we're constantly teasing him. That dirty Jew bastid. Do you know what he did? To prove his non-homosexual innocence, he started screwing the ugly girl who works down, over there, in that one cubicle. Let's call her Nancy. It was supposed to be a secret, but everyone knows. Though we didn't let him know that we knew because we like to pretend he's gay. So one day he comes up and says, "Hey, you think Nancy is pretty?" I looked him straight in the eyes and I said, "No", in a very mean and demeaning way. He got very upset and I could tell he was starting to tear up. He started to walk away head hanging low. He really had some non-gay news he wanted to share, but alas, I already knew where he was going with his stupid question and I wanted to make him feel as worthless as I believe he is. When he reached the door I shouted, "Hey Jason aren't you gay!?" "I'M NOT GAY!", he demanded. I could hear laughter from my neighboring cubical. Then Jason said it again. "I AM NOT GAY, YOU GUYS!!!", voice cracking like a teenager just entering puberty. Laughter filled the room now, like when Jack hurts himself in an episode of Three's Company. Nancy stands up, "Jesus Christ Jason, they're only teasing you! Get a grip!" Jason looks over in horror. Everyone is standing up. Hysterical laughter from bodiless heads is all he sees. This is Jason's nightmare come true. This is what has become of him. This is my work going better than I could have ever hoped. I feel great! What a wonderful world!
Ed KemperThis is Edmund Emil Kemper III. He killed his grandfather and had a stand-off with the police, holding his grandmother hostage. He finally gave up, followed his grandmother out to the porch with a shotgun and shot her through the back in front of the cops. He told investigators, "I just wanted to know what it would feel like to kill gramma." Then he called up his mother who was on her honey moon, starting off her third marriage. "It's all over mom, time to come home. I killed gramma and grampa."He did all this when he was 15. If you've read The Silence of the Lambs, you will read that the killer in the book, "Buffalo Bill", did a similar thing with his grandparents based on Kemper's work. And if you've seen the movie, "American Psycho", the killer in the book, Patrick Bateman, misquotes serial killer Ed Gein. It was actually Kemper who said, "When I see a pretty girl on the street, one part of me wonders what she's like, and maybe would like to take her out on a date. The other part of me wonders what her head would look like on a stick." Kemper was sent to Atascadero State Hospital for the criminally insane. (My mother actually worked there for a short period of time, until she was hurt by one of the inmates and was forced to leave due to permanent physical damage.) When Kemper turned 18 they decided he was alright and they released him. He was sent to live with his mother. Misdiagnosed, of course.The first couple of weeks Ed was fine. Very polite and careful to follow his mother's instruction. She decided she trusted him with the car. She was old and needed help with the groceries and such. Ed began frequenting the college town of Santa Cruz. At night he stalked and killed hitchhiking college girls. He had grown to a large size of 6' 9" and could easily overpower women. He was very strong, however, he was a very quiet man who kept to himself. He had a near genious IQ. He hung out with cops in the town at the coffee shop and discussed with them about all the body parts being found along the shore. The police called him the Gentle Giant. Meanwhile, more arms and legs were being found.One night, after 2 years of his release, his mother was giving him a hard time so he killed her with a hammer, cut off her head, put it on the bedpost and used it as a dart board. He cut out her throat and stuffed it down the garbage disposal. He explained that he thought this would put an end to her constant bitching. Like killing her wasn't enough. He then called up his mother's friend and invited her over for dinner. When she arrived, she was killed by Kemper. Probably molested, too, I don't remember, but I know she was very old. Both corpses were positioned in humiliating ways.Anyway, he took off, and made it as far as Colorado. He planned on going to Vegas, taking out as many people as he could, but he became to paranoid. He called police and turned himself in. He's still recovering and of course he sought Jesus for that light. I wrote this about Ed Kemper because he is one of my favorite serial killers and everyone should love him. In the end he claimed to have killed 150 people. He is a gentle soul in the belly of damnation. "3 cheers for Ed", I say. There is a new episode of Mugshots that will probably re-run soon. If you have Court TV, (my favorite channel), you should look for it.
"Teach your children to worship Satan" -The Dwarves
On Self-ControlAddiction is very common. Everyone is addicted to something, whether it be Jesus, cocaine, sex, gambling, pain, or, in some cases people even become addicted to washing their hands. This all comes from a mechanism in our brain, a compulsive side that finds something it thinks you enjoy and makes you want to continue doing it at all times of the day. Your own brain tortures you and makes you think about things that aren't always healthy to think about. I personally, think about killing people all the time.
Good people do bad things and become "bad people", who deserve to be destroyed, or at least punished. At work, people send things to me on the FTP site, (advertisements that I must reformat). There are many, many folders in the site that are full of stuff. This stuff is old but there are no modification dates on the FTP site, so you never know when something was sent. Not only that, but people don't know which folder to put their stuff in. So a certain company, let's call it Christos, sends me an ad, and they say, "go find it". So I search through all the folders looking for something called Christos, but alas, I find nothing of the sort. To no avail. So I call them back....
"Hey I can't find the ad for Christos. Which folder is it in?"
Great Scott, I should have known! At this point I am thinking about killing the customer. They don't know shit from Sherlock and deserve nothing but my cloven hoof in their ass. I know where they live. The thing is, I don't give in to this urge. I respectfully find the ad and do the job. This is called self-control. I've used this "self-control" to help me quit drinking, smoking, drugs, etc. Still, all I think about is killing.
While I was on the drugs and alcohol, I didn't think about killing all the time. Now it haunts me like a demon within. Beckoning me to make haste and start my killing spree in the name of Hellfire and all it's gory...I mean Glory. So what should I do?
Helpful HintMatt's Tip of the Day: You can't pee into a funnel and expect to get any range.
I learned this amazing fact last night. I saw some kid pissing on the side of the road, and he had a much farther range than I. I pulled over to investigate. The trick is, as the 4 year old showed me, to aim your member up at a 45 degree angle. Then you get that "rainbow effect", the same you would want if you were shooting the ball in a game of basketball. Right?
from your bleeding skull
What time is it now?
Have I lost control
I'm controlling you
You do what I say
Peel the flesh over your face
Now you look insane
You could be the hero
Of your own disgrace
No lips, no face
To hide the smile away
Now you stick my neck
With your sharpened pencil
Watch the life slipping away
And you start to remember...
The first time you dismembered a corpse
Smell the rotting flesh
Of forgotten kills
Run the edge of the blade
Across forgotten lips
Is it sharp enough?
To render me
you can't shit and you can't pee
You're all alone...Cuz everything about you sucks...
You're all alone....Everything about you sucks.
you are lame and you are sad
you are gay and you've been bad
You're all alone...Cuz everything about you sucks...
You're all alone...Everything about you sucks...
your horoscope says that you will die
you won't be missed and you know why...
Birthday PresentI got my girlfriend's 4 year old a little chainsaw for his birthday. He won't go anywhere without it. This one guy who likes her tried to outdo me and got him a bike big enough for a 10 year old. A nice expensive Mongoose. No one was impressed. He likes the chainsaw the best. I got him a shotgun too.
Martial ArtsLast night I learned that when you are in a guillotine headlock, you can easily get out of it by jumping up with your opponent's body and when you drop back down, bend your knees for leverage. Opponent becomes slightly off balance and loosens grip. With one hand over opponent's shoulder, reach other hand under crotch and grab his back. Then, lift opponent up into the air using your knees, twisting opponent and throwing him to his back. Catch opponent's arm as he falls. Drop one knee onto opponents chest and complete with the armbar. At this point you can snap the bone and begin striking his face with your free elbow! That way you don't hurt your own hand!
On PinbackYou are a fleshy sac that dwells alone in dank places, usually holding yourself; always huddled up on some alcohol kick. Doing strange things by yourself, in the dark, with your own body. Trying to stay focused on the flight simulator, but always turning your attention to the DVD porn that you won't let me borrow or watch. That's why you're on the computer all night. Half the time you're jacking off and then you feel guilty so you make up that lost time by getting on the "work machine" and playing "baby games". Big baby. Monster my anus-tree.