When I asked my friends for ideas for a blog post, I really should have known better, but that's what I get for having the friends that I have. So, for the first entry in the Buck Takes Requests series, I have to do Blue Waffle.
Blue Waffle is a combination of terms. "Waffle" is a slang term for vagina, and "Blue Waffle" is a term for a horrible abomination that has taken over the vagina. They're not sure if this is an actual disease, or just something some advertising agency came up with to sell condoms and other forms of birth control. Either way, it shares many traits with "vaginitis." Since I don't want this blog to be removed for having nasty shit on it, I'll just post a link to a picture of it.
WARNING! It's nasty, and of a vagina, so click if you want, but don't blame me for what your lunch tastes like after it comes back up. Not Safe For Work, yada yada...
http://bluewaffle.biz/blue_waffle.jpg
HOW DO YOU GET "BLUE WAFFLE?"
Since Blue Waffle is an STD, you would get it like any other STD: unprotected sex, many partners, not washing frequently enough, etc. Some also believe that a weak immune system can help it along. Other causes are believed to be "high level of stress, poor diet, the type of your underwear; further more, contributing factors may also include a lack of lubrication while having sex, abrasion, or other irritating activity inside a vagina." They haven't really pinpointed an exact cause of this ungodly hell-beast, so there are still more theories than actual fact at this point.
SYMPTOMS
Symptoms can be, but aren't limited to, vaginal itching and inflammation, odd-colored and odd-smelling discharge, and odd coloring of the vagina, usually a blue or purple color. These are similar to the symptoms of vaginitis, so it's apparently easy to confuse the two.
Like I said, it's not really known if this is an actual disease or just some advertising ploy. However, for the two females that actually read my crap, if you see any of these symptoms you need to: 1) Stop being a whore 2) Go get it checked. That looks like an alien took a shit on fun bits. Us guys are terrified of that area enough to begin with, so get it fixed before you scare some poor guy to death with whatever Blue Waffle is.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Buck Faces his Ultimate Test
In his life, every man will come upon a crossroad. He spends his entire life up to that moment preparing himself mentally and physically. It is his ultimate test of willpower, fortitude, and endurance. I have spent the past 10+ years browsing the Internet in hopes of seeing every single horrible act. I've seen countless BMXers nut themselves on rails. I've seen a near unlimited amount of vomit, urine, semen, blood, and fecal matter countless varieties. I've discovered fetishes that I can't even fathom. I believe I have seen the worst the Internet can throw at me. I've witnessed what happens when a man sticks his penis inside the penis of another man. I've seen man stick his head (the one on top of his shoulders) fully inside the gaping maw-like vagina of a woman. I believe I was the first among my group of friends to discover Goatse and Tub Girl, back before they were cool things. I have sat through 2 Girls 1 Cup, and it didn't phase me. I watched the entire 1hr 30min long hurricane of fluids that is SWAP.avi, and that didn't even bother me. I've even sat through most of an episode of America's Next Top Model without killing myself. After witnessing everything that I have on the Internet, I believed myself to be impervious to pain. I got cocky. I felt invincible. Nothing could phase me.
So as I came across my Crossroads, I blew it off. I didn't feel that a shitty TV show could top anything the Internet has to offer. I mean, come on. What do you think could possibly make me cringe if cartoon drawings of girls with shitting dick-nipples can't? Not even in my league. But my opponent kept daring me. Challenging my manhood. Telling me I wouldn't last one episode. Making fun of my mother. Who do a bunch of douches from Jersey Shore think they are? So, I find a site that has episodes of The Jersey Shore. I sat back and watched a few episodes of the first season.
A month or so down the line, I have watched about half of the first season, and the entire second season of Jersey Shore. Everyone kept asking me "Why? Why would you watch that show? You know it's going to be horrible." You people have no idea. I had to make sure I know why this show is as popular, and also as hated, as is. So, here we go.
Jersey Shore is the single greatest train wreck that you will ever see. For those that might not know, they stick four of the bitchiest, sluttiest drama queens in the same house four of the douche-baggiest, fake tanned, jerk offs you'll ever see. It is a perfect mixture for comedy. I put it up on the same level as 2 Girls 1 Cup, in that once you start watching, you can't stop. It's horrible in every way, and you want to run, but you can't. Morbid curiosity drives you to keep watching. Every single person on this show is a piece of shit in their own way. Let's run down the cast:
First, we have Mike "The Situation." This guy is incredible. The best way I can think to describe him would be to transcribe what happened during an exchange he had with some skank in a club:
SKANK: I'm from Canada!
MIKE: Oh? "lifts his shirt, points to his abs"
I'm not making any of that up. That is the exact thing that happened. I laughed for 10 minutes, thinking there is no way he could have been serious. That is The Situation in action at all times. When working at the ice cream shop in season two, he would stand outside shirtless to attract customers, and he got upset and confused when it didn't work. He also considers himself to be the head of the household, and in charge of telling everyone when they are to leave the club to go home, which leads to one of Mike's best moments, when he slaps Snooki in the mouth because she doesn't want to leave. Mike also get's roid-ragey when he can't get any skanks to sleep with him.
Next we have Pauly D. He's a DJ that looks like a damn shark. He travels with a duffel bag filled with hair gel and spray tan. He is pretty much hell bent on drilling his pierced junk into whatever open wound stumbles in front of him. For the most part, he just wants to get laid, and loves informing the house about important events, such as "T-Shirt Time" and when "the cab is here!" His best moment was when he absolutely flipped shit on Angelina after she slapped him. I so wanted him to punch her, but apparently he's not that big of a piece of shit. Darn it. Basically, Pauly is a loud dumbass that I'm sure has an impressive amount of STD's.
Vinny...doesn't do much. I think he's the youngest of the group, which almost gives him a pass to act like a dip shit. He is the only one that almost makes sense. He was smart enough to avoid almost all of the drama that happened. He is credited with railing Snooki more times than anyone else, which is good for him? He is also the master of fist-pumping. Towards the end of Season Two, he and Angelina wanted to kill each other. They HATED each other. Two episodes later they're humpin'. Over all, Vinny just looks like a dumbass wigger that likes to have sex with Oompa-Loompa's.
Jennifer "Tits" is simply titties. She loves ham. Basically brain dead. She either almost fights or actually does fight every chick but Snooki, and even those two almost came to blows. She had a boyfriend in both seasons, I think the same guy. The first season saw her cheat on him with Pauly, which is where we, thank God, learn about his pierced junk. Second season he came to visit, and found the number of a guy he specifically told her not to call. Surprise, he got pissed, but she used her tits to lure him back. She is almost always half of the drama in the house. She and Snooki form a perfect tag-team of bitchy back-stabbing. With her around, there is always a chance of a fist fight.
Snooki is possibly the dumbest creature. Period. She spent the first episode drunk and trying to get one of the guys to fuck her, and then crying because everyone thought she was a fat hooker. Later some big dude fucking blasted her in the face. She spends most of season two banging Vinny. She really loves pickles. Most of her dialogue involves just random noises. Mike smacks her, which starts all sorts of hilarious drama between those two. She sleeps until roughly 9pm every night. And her vagina just winds up exposed randomly.
Angelina is the key point of drama in the show. She didn't last very long in the first season because when she was supposed to go work at the T-Shirt shop they all worked at, she decided that she's too important for that, and just didn't go. So the boss tracks her down, yells at her, she yells back some self-important shit, and then she gets kicked out. Season two, she tries to be good, which lasts about two episodes. Then she flips on Pauly for trying to have sex with a married woman, which causes Pauly to flip and almost punch her. She also got into a fist fight with Snooki, which was hilarious. She spent most of her time making sure shit was constantly being stirred.
The last two have to be introduced together, because they aren't worth shit separately. Ronnie and Sammi are the best couple ever. Ronnie is a roided up dumbass and Sammi is just too damn dumb to know what to do without his shriveled up wiener. They got together in season one, then broke up. Got back together in season two, and somehow made it work. They'd all go out to the club, Ronnie would get drunk, call Sammi a dumb bitch, Sammi would cry and go home. Ron would make out with chicks, and then go home to hump Sammi. OH SNAP DRAMA because no one told Sammi about the chicks Ron was with while he was with her. Season two focused around Ron cheating on Sammi, and everyone besides Sammi knowing about it. The other girls in the house typed up a note, and hid it in Sammi's drawer. When she found out, all sorts of not much happened. So much fail. They all kinda argued a little, and then Ron and Sam got back together. Fucking idiots can't even give a decent drama-show with weeks of build up.
I was going to write more, but I'm tired. All you have to know is that Jersey Shore is the biggest ball of fail that has ever happened. Everyone on the show, with the possible exception on Vinny, is a sweltering pool of STD's and ignorance, and god dammit, I can't help but watch. The saddest part is that their key demographic age is 12-34. That's right, fucking 12. This show just proves that our country is the worst country on the planet. People are starving to death as I type this, but these jack-offs are making $10,000 an episode each. I hope we get bombed into the stone age, because we deserve it. This shit is one of the hottest shows right now. It's either because of people like me, who love to see failure in action, or because ignorant people actually think it's something cool. I weep for us as a country, and simultaneously wish for our demise.
So as I came across my Crossroads, I blew it off. I didn't feel that a shitty TV show could top anything the Internet has to offer. I mean, come on. What do you think could possibly make me cringe if cartoon drawings of girls with shitting dick-nipples can't? Not even in my league. But my opponent kept daring me. Challenging my manhood. Telling me I wouldn't last one episode. Making fun of my mother. Who do a bunch of douches from Jersey Shore think they are? So, I find a site that has episodes of The Jersey Shore. I sat back and watched a few episodes of the first season.
A month or so down the line, I have watched about half of the first season, and the entire second season of Jersey Shore. Everyone kept asking me "Why? Why would you watch that show? You know it's going to be horrible." You people have no idea. I had to make sure I know why this show is as popular, and also as hated, as is. So, here we go.
Jersey Shore is the single greatest train wreck that you will ever see. For those that might not know, they stick four of the bitchiest, sluttiest drama queens in the same house four of the douche-baggiest, fake tanned, jerk offs you'll ever see. It is a perfect mixture for comedy. I put it up on the same level as 2 Girls 1 Cup, in that once you start watching, you can't stop. It's horrible in every way, and you want to run, but you can't. Morbid curiosity drives you to keep watching. Every single person on this show is a piece of shit in their own way. Let's run down the cast:
First, we have Mike "The Situation." This guy is incredible. The best way I can think to describe him would be to transcribe what happened during an exchange he had with some skank in a club:
SKANK: I'm from Canada!
MIKE: Oh? "lifts his shirt, points to his abs"
I'm not making any of that up. That is the exact thing that happened. I laughed for 10 minutes, thinking there is no way he could have been serious. That is The Situation in action at all times. When working at the ice cream shop in season two, he would stand outside shirtless to attract customers, and he got upset and confused when it didn't work. He also considers himself to be the head of the household, and in charge of telling everyone when they are to leave the club to go home, which leads to one of Mike's best moments, when he slaps Snooki in the mouth because she doesn't want to leave. Mike also get's roid-ragey when he can't get any skanks to sleep with him.
Next we have Pauly D. He's a DJ that looks like a damn shark. He travels with a duffel bag filled with hair gel and spray tan. He is pretty much hell bent on drilling his pierced junk into whatever open wound stumbles in front of him. For the most part, he just wants to get laid, and loves informing the house about important events, such as "T-Shirt Time" and when "the cab is here!" His best moment was when he absolutely flipped shit on Angelina after she slapped him. I so wanted him to punch her, but apparently he's not that big of a piece of shit. Darn it. Basically, Pauly is a loud dumbass that I'm sure has an impressive amount of STD's.
Vinny...doesn't do much. I think he's the youngest of the group, which almost gives him a pass to act like a dip shit. He is the only one that almost makes sense. He was smart enough to avoid almost all of the drama that happened. He is credited with railing Snooki more times than anyone else, which is good for him? He is also the master of fist-pumping. Towards the end of Season Two, he and Angelina wanted to kill each other. They HATED each other. Two episodes later they're humpin'. Over all, Vinny just looks like a dumbass wigger that likes to have sex with Oompa-Loompa's.
Jennifer "Tits" is simply titties. She loves ham. Basically brain dead. She either almost fights or actually does fight every chick but Snooki, and even those two almost came to blows. She had a boyfriend in both seasons, I think the same guy. The first season saw her cheat on him with Pauly, which is where we, thank God, learn about his pierced junk. Second season he came to visit, and found the number of a guy he specifically told her not to call. Surprise, he got pissed, but she used her tits to lure him back. She is almost always half of the drama in the house. She and Snooki form a perfect tag-team of bitchy back-stabbing. With her around, there is always a chance of a fist fight.
Snooki is possibly the dumbest creature. Period. She spent the first episode drunk and trying to get one of the guys to fuck her, and then crying because everyone thought she was a fat hooker. Later some big dude fucking blasted her in the face. She spends most of season two banging Vinny. She really loves pickles. Most of her dialogue involves just random noises. Mike smacks her, which starts all sorts of hilarious drama between those two. She sleeps until roughly 9pm every night. And her vagina just winds up exposed randomly.
Angelina is the key point of drama in the show. She didn't last very long in the first season because when she was supposed to go work at the T-Shirt shop they all worked at, she decided that she's too important for that, and just didn't go. So the boss tracks her down, yells at her, she yells back some self-important shit, and then she gets kicked out. Season two, she tries to be good, which lasts about two episodes. Then she flips on Pauly for trying to have sex with a married woman, which causes Pauly to flip and almost punch her. She also got into a fist fight with Snooki, which was hilarious. She spent most of her time making sure shit was constantly being stirred.
The last two have to be introduced together, because they aren't worth shit separately. Ronnie and Sammi are the best couple ever. Ronnie is a roided up dumbass and Sammi is just too damn dumb to know what to do without his shriveled up wiener. They got together in season one, then broke up. Got back together in season two, and somehow made it work. They'd all go out to the club, Ronnie would get drunk, call Sammi a dumb bitch, Sammi would cry and go home. Ron would make out with chicks, and then go home to hump Sammi. OH SNAP DRAMA because no one told Sammi about the chicks Ron was with while he was with her. Season two focused around Ron cheating on Sammi, and everyone besides Sammi knowing about it. The other girls in the house typed up a note, and hid it in Sammi's drawer. When she found out, all sorts of not much happened. So much fail. They all kinda argued a little, and then Ron and Sam got back together. Fucking idiots can't even give a decent drama-show with weeks of build up.
I was going to write more, but I'm tired. All you have to know is that Jersey Shore is the biggest ball of fail that has ever happened. Everyone on the show, with the possible exception on Vinny, is a sweltering pool of STD's and ignorance, and god dammit, I can't help but watch. The saddest part is that their key demographic age is 12-34. That's right, fucking 12. This show just proves that our country is the worst country on the planet. People are starving to death as I type this, but these jack-offs are making $10,000 an episode each. I hope we get bombed into the stone age, because we deserve it. This shit is one of the hottest shows right now. It's either because of people like me, who love to see failure in action, or because ignorant people actually think it's something cool. I weep for us as a country, and simultaneously wish for our demise.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Buck vs. Jagermeister
Usually, on the two nights a year I decide to drink, I stick with my sissy drinks. Smirnoff, Mike's Hard Lemon-aid, drinks like that. Not because I'm a big girl and can't handle booze, but because they taste really damn good, and beer tastes god awful. However, every now and then, I'll get that wild hair up my ass. I'll scan the room, and low and behold! There's that dark green bottle of liquid Hell: JAGERMEISTER. I'll think to myself "Dustin, you have to work in the near future. You really should stay away from that." Then my balls will chip in "Fuck you brain! JAAAGGERRRR!!" My brain will step to the side, because he knows that eventually I'll be throwing up for a couple of hours, pass out, and wish I had listened in the morning.
When I usually drink Jager, I'll have fun for about an hour, then I vomit for three hours, and go home to pass out. But, on one special night, I was there for fuckin' business. Now, before I begin this tale, I should say that what happened on this night might have actually happened on a different night. I have no idea. Either both nights were basically identical, or I completely blacked out one of them. Either way, in my brain lies a combination of the two, that's the story I remember, and the story I will share. I don't care if it's correct.
We were having a part at The Trailer either for no reason, or because my buddy Daniel had come back from his Army duty, or he was about to leave for duty. Either way, we were partying, and everyone was to get drunk. Somehow, a fucking liter of Jager showed up. My balls tell my brain to shut the fuck up, and I move in. Daniel sits down with the bottle. I saddle up beside him. Shot glasses appear. We look each other in the eyes, give each other a knowing nod, and just start slamming them down. At this point I should state that I'm not much of a drinker. I can hold an average amount of my Smirnoffs, unless I decide I have to wrestle someone. I usually get sick after about four or five Jager shots. Not on this night. Daniel can out drink me on any night, and I have no illusions that I can compete with him. But on this night, my balls were battle ready. When I stopped, I believe I had someone in the area of 12 Jager shots, all within...30 minutes? An hour? I have no idea. I had no working knowledge of time. Dan was somewhere around 15-20. We're both giggling dipshits. To say we were drunk would be incorrect. I was on a different plane of existence. Thankfully, Dan got up to stumble around, mingling with everyone else that was there. I decided to sit and try not to die.
It is about this time that my buddy Josh shows up. He sees me sitting down in front of the Jager bottle, and sits across from me. He reminds me that he was in martial arts with me. I make a noise that resembles agreeing. He says that we need to drink some Jager. I beg to differ. He says that we need to drink to our warrior spirits, that we need to drink to the spirit of martial arts. For some damn reason, I saw this as a challenge to my manhood. My balls will not tolerate some white belt trying to one-up me. THIS WILL NOT STAND! So, because I am smart, I ORDER him to pour me a shot. I down that sum bitch, and slam the glass on the table. "Another!" I proclaim! I slam that bastard down as well.
My brain was sitting back, watching this. My brain had been sending me subtle hints for a while now that I really need to stop. When I took that second shot, my brain told my eyes to give me the final warning. Everything was spinning rapidly, but I was sitting down, so I didn't feel any threat. However, when I grabbed my 15th or so shot of the night, my third in roughly a minute, my brain was officially tired of my shit. My last memory of that night was bringing that shot up to my lips.
I came to in the bathroom the next morning, confused and in a little pain. I was directly across from the toilet, there was vomit in the tub, and I had rug burn on both of my elbows. My first clear thought was that I wanted a cigarette, but couldn't find my smokes. I then decided that I needed to go to sleep. I get up, go into the living room. John is passed out on one couch, and Josh is passed out in a chair. I thought about punching Josh, but instead I fell over onto the second couch. I was in the process of passing back out, when I heard Josh get up. I watched him as he stumbled over next to the couch I was laying in. I watch him unzip and unbutton his pants. My brain sends me warning signals that I might want to get out of the way. I see Josh's hands go into his pants, and begin the motions of pulling his member out. I realize I am in no shape to flee, so opt to just try to roll over into the cushions of the couch, hoping he will miss me, because he is definitely going to pee on me. I second or two later, I look back, wondering where the pee is. Josh didn't pull it out, but he is pissing all over himself. He sits back down, passes back out, and I giggle my ass off. I guess my laughter woke John up. He suggested that we call someone to take us to get food. That is the best idea I've ever heard. The call is made, we get picked up, and off to food!
As I get into the bright light, I regret every bad decision I've ever made. I've never been hung over before. I've heard tales, but I thought that they were just exaggerated. It was awful. Very few times in my life have I been more miserable. Anyway. We get to the restaurant. I order a chicken strip basket with fries, thinking surely I can eat at least the fries. I managed to stomach down one (1) fry, and I had to force it down. I also had to go to the bathroom, because eating that one fry almost made me throw up. We go back to the trailer, and I pass out. I was hung over, literally, all damn day. I worked over nights at the time, and didn't get over my hangover until around 3am the next morning. After that night, I vowed to never drink that much ever again. So far, I have managed to do so. So, if you ever see me boozing it up, and I'm nice and drunk, if you want to see me try to kill myself via hooch, just challenge my manhood. I am all that is MAN, and my drunk ass will prove it to you by throwing up and being a whiny bitch the entire next day.
When I usually drink Jager, I'll have fun for about an hour, then I vomit for three hours, and go home to pass out. But, on one special night, I was there for fuckin' business. Now, before I begin this tale, I should say that what happened on this night might have actually happened on a different night. I have no idea. Either both nights were basically identical, or I completely blacked out one of them. Either way, in my brain lies a combination of the two, that's the story I remember, and the story I will share. I don't care if it's correct.
We were having a part at The Trailer either for no reason, or because my buddy Daniel had come back from his Army duty, or he was about to leave for duty. Either way, we were partying, and everyone was to get drunk. Somehow, a fucking liter of Jager showed up. My balls tell my brain to shut the fuck up, and I move in. Daniel sits down with the bottle. I saddle up beside him. Shot glasses appear. We look each other in the eyes, give each other a knowing nod, and just start slamming them down. At this point I should state that I'm not much of a drinker. I can hold an average amount of my Smirnoffs, unless I decide I have to wrestle someone. I usually get sick after about four or five Jager shots. Not on this night. Daniel can out drink me on any night, and I have no illusions that I can compete with him. But on this night, my balls were battle ready. When I stopped, I believe I had someone in the area of 12 Jager shots, all within...30 minutes? An hour? I have no idea. I had no working knowledge of time. Dan was somewhere around 15-20. We're both giggling dipshits. To say we were drunk would be incorrect. I was on a different plane of existence. Thankfully, Dan got up to stumble around, mingling with everyone else that was there. I decided to sit and try not to die.
It is about this time that my buddy Josh shows up. He sees me sitting down in front of the Jager bottle, and sits across from me. He reminds me that he was in martial arts with me. I make a noise that resembles agreeing. He says that we need to drink some Jager. I beg to differ. He says that we need to drink to our warrior spirits, that we need to drink to the spirit of martial arts. For some damn reason, I saw this as a challenge to my manhood. My balls will not tolerate some white belt trying to one-up me. THIS WILL NOT STAND! So, because I am smart, I ORDER him to pour me a shot. I down that sum bitch, and slam the glass on the table. "Another!" I proclaim! I slam that bastard down as well.
My brain was sitting back, watching this. My brain had been sending me subtle hints for a while now that I really need to stop. When I took that second shot, my brain told my eyes to give me the final warning. Everything was spinning rapidly, but I was sitting down, so I didn't feel any threat. However, when I grabbed my 15th or so shot of the night, my third in roughly a minute, my brain was officially tired of my shit. My last memory of that night was bringing that shot up to my lips.
I came to in the bathroom the next morning, confused and in a little pain. I was directly across from the toilet, there was vomit in the tub, and I had rug burn on both of my elbows. My first clear thought was that I wanted a cigarette, but couldn't find my smokes. I then decided that I needed to go to sleep. I get up, go into the living room. John is passed out on one couch, and Josh is passed out in a chair. I thought about punching Josh, but instead I fell over onto the second couch. I was in the process of passing back out, when I heard Josh get up. I watched him as he stumbled over next to the couch I was laying in. I watch him unzip and unbutton his pants. My brain sends me warning signals that I might want to get out of the way. I see Josh's hands go into his pants, and begin the motions of pulling his member out. I realize I am in no shape to flee, so opt to just try to roll over into the cushions of the couch, hoping he will miss me, because he is definitely going to pee on me. I second or two later, I look back, wondering where the pee is. Josh didn't pull it out, but he is pissing all over himself. He sits back down, passes back out, and I giggle my ass off. I guess my laughter woke John up. He suggested that we call someone to take us to get food. That is the best idea I've ever heard. The call is made, we get picked up, and off to food!
As I get into the bright light, I regret every bad decision I've ever made. I've never been hung over before. I've heard tales, but I thought that they were just exaggerated. It was awful. Very few times in my life have I been more miserable. Anyway. We get to the restaurant. I order a chicken strip basket with fries, thinking surely I can eat at least the fries. I managed to stomach down one (1) fry, and I had to force it down. I also had to go to the bathroom, because eating that one fry almost made me throw up. We go back to the trailer, and I pass out. I was hung over, literally, all damn day. I worked over nights at the time, and didn't get over my hangover until around 3am the next morning. After that night, I vowed to never drink that much ever again. So far, I have managed to do so. So, if you ever see me boozing it up, and I'm nice and drunk, if you want to see me try to kill myself via hooch, just challenge my manhood. I am all that is MAN, and my drunk ass will prove it to you by throwing up and being a whiny bitch the entire next day.
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