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Current Mood: Shitty (sweet Jesus H. Fuck I am witty)

Hi, I’m A Douchebag

I get queasy at the sight of blood, so please somebody please slit my wrists for me. I got an email today from some pretentious fuck. How did I know they were a pretentious fuck? They told me.

Not in so many words, but in so many letters. Their email signature said something like ‘Tinydick McFuckhead, PMP’. And I am like, what the fuck is a ‘PMP’? I googled it and got this pretentious fuck discussion.

When someone uses worthless, unknown-to-the-majority-of-the-world letters after their name that just transcends pompous and pretentious. I can physically sense how small their cocks (unfuckably, shriveled tight their cunts are) are. It’s the written-language equivalent of having a tribal arm band, always wearing an ear-piece phone or gnawing on an unlit cigar—its just an easy, convenient way of letting people know you are a douchebag without forcing them to directly interact with you to discern it.

How low must your self-esteem be that you can placate your ego with letters after your name? I understand you studied one whole week for some bullshit certification test in the field of your pathetic job, but just because the bullshit testing organization says you passed, mass mailed you a personalized certificate with a gold seal and a letter saying ‘Congratulations, you are now a Certified Loser In This’, doesn’t mean you need to append C.L.I.T. after your name in your email signature and revel at how awesome you are for passing said shitty exam.

(Speaking of reveling in your own awesomeosity, how about the name of that imaginary certification? Get it? ‘Certified Loser In This’—the acronym forms the word ‘clit’. I am told that’s part of the female pussy (yeah I know, ‘female pussy’. You don’t have to explain it to me, I wrote it.) Sweet nippleless mastectomy scars I am awesome. I made it so that the certification that person received, when abbreviated formed the acronym C.L.I.T., thus implying that the person who got that certification was a pussy. David Berkowitz’s Neighbor’s Dog Almighty, that’s fucking good. Plicitly, im- and ex-, I am one witty negro.)

Now that’s how you revel in your own mediocrity. You don’t throw letters after your name hoping to impress dumbfucks who are too embarrassed about not knowing what your suffix means to speak up and call you on your bullshit.

Sincerly,

Jason Curless, P.Db.W.L.A.M.N.
(pretentious douchebag with letters after my name)

Coach’s Corner

My Friend

I, umm had this friend, yeah that’s it,

I-He’d been drinking quite a bit.

  A long, gross story short

  Take my-his word for it,

When he-I say ‘This tastes like shit’.

Award Winning Nutbag Blog

Yesterday, in my attempt to find a shitty blog that I was pretty sure existed, I got sidetracked when I stumbled on the web’s shittiest blog search site.

Today, I restruck out in search of the blog of my shitty dreams and was successful. I didn’t know if this exact blog existed, but was confident it did because I thought up the criteria for it. I call this my Stay Puff Marshmallow Man Shitty Blog Theory: If you can imagine a subject that would make a shitty blog (i.e. dogs so ugly they are cute blog, living with lactose intolerance blog, Idaho foster parents blog, etc.) it exists. Some douchesucker has already created that crappy blog and put it on the internet.

So today’s Porkjerky.com Intermittent Shitty Blog Award goes to Endued: A Blog About God and Life for realizing my shitty blog dream. I just knew such a blog existed, it was just a matter of searching for 5 minutes to find it.

Thank you Endued for being that shitty blog.

I thought that there was a blog out there that had both pictures of aborted feti and a post about how Dr. George Tiller’s murder was alright by them. So, in accordance with The Stay Puff Marshmallow Man Shitty Blog Theory, it did exist and it was just a matter of finding the specific blog that fulfilled my criteria. Sure enough, about halfway down the February 2009 Archive is a picture of a dead, cut-up baby and within hours of his murder they had a post up nearly rationalizing the Doctor’s assasination.

Delicious.

In real life, just like in Ghostbusters, the key to not confronting your fear that a shitty blog might exist, is to not allow the thought that it might enter into your consciousness. Unfortunately, I thought up something that would make a truly shitty blog and once you do that, not even crossing the streams of all our proton packs will rid it of the internet.

Congratulaions Endued on winning the I Forget How Many I Have Given Out Porkjerky.com Shitty Blog Award.

Google Leech

I figured my nuts had healed enough, so I decided to slam them in the internet once again. I had an idea for what would be an excellent shitty blog and wanted to see if it existed. My theory is that any crappy idea for a shitty blog that I can dream up, odds are some dickshaft is already out there doing it.

For example, just off the top of my head and without any follow-up to verify it: I bet there is a blog out there devoted to following a minor league baseball team in Saskatchewan. I bet there is a blog out there focused on Mormon honeymoons. I bet there is a blog out there devoted to raising the self-esteem of overweight, transgendered teens. I bet there is a blog out there that catalogs random blogs that coincidentally, links to blogs that fit the prior 3 examples of blogs I just listed.

My point is, if you wonder if there’s a blog for a certain subject, there’s a blog for that subject. If you can imagine it, some ball licker is already chronicling it.

Idea for a shitty blog in hand, I googled ‘blog search’. I hoped there would be a site out there that help me on my way. A site where I could plug in the type of shitty blog I wanted and it would lead me there. And it kind of did. I didn’t find a shitty blog, I found a shitty blog search site.

It’s horrible. Grade A, purebred horrible. This site is gang rape your sister and skull fuck your cat your horrible. The kind of horrible that should only be experienced by orphans in the 3rd world. Horrible on planes and dimensions, as yet, only theorized by modern physics.

This fucking thing sucks.

The 4th result I got when I googled ‘blog search’ was blogsearch.com. Sounded promising. However, while its so highly listed in Google, when you go to it, the fucking thing says they are still working on it and lists search engines I can use to search the web. Thanks cuntstink.

Then as if to help me out it gives a Google input search box. It gives me the fucking ability to search google right from the page I found using Google.

Fuck you.

Like ever other site though, they do have their priorities straight. The left column is Google ads, which nets them probably a good 7 cents a day, and the right column is for sale. Currently its being used to shill their other shitty sites. But hey, make them an offer and you too could have your message up there on the site that adds nothing to the web but is just another Google leech.

The best though is the bottom of the page. First is a great little graphic that gives me a link to the page I am already viewing. Thanks. Then below that is the copyright info which is god damn beautiful. I mean that’s pretty fucking pompous of you. That’s like putting a car alarm on your 1990 Ford Festiva. Or a fat ugly bitch carrying around mace so she doesn’t get raped. Or the Amish running around 10 years ago all worried about Y2K. You solved a problem that doesn’t exist for you. You’re copyrighting a turd. No one wants to steal your shitty little site and claim it as their own. The worthlessness of your site is all the copyright you need.

Humanity’s Crapacity

Ok, I’ve done a lot to advance the knowledge of microcrapology, letting everyone calculate how much they shit in a day, week, month etc. Now, let’s take it to the next level.

We’re going macro. Specifically, current daily macro–How much shit does the current human population of the Earth produce each day?

Of course, to get going, we are going to have to assume a couple of things. I know I know. We’ve all heard what happens when you assume right?—Yeah, you take the best information you have, extrapolate from there and use inductive reasoning to reach educated conclusions. (What? You heard something different? Oh yes, your shitty cliché is a lot better. My saying about ‘assume’ is just accurate, your’s rhymes. Fucking idiots.).

Assumption #1: I have it from a very reliable source, Population Reference Bureau, that I found after an exhaustive 15 second google search that the world population is about 6.2 billion. Let’s go with that.

Assumption #2: The dimensions of the average shit is 7 inches long, 1.5 inches in diameter and weighs .8 pounds. Its just an educated shitty guess. Like this entire plog, I pulled it out of my ass, but for the most part, its probably right.

Cumulatively: If laid end to end, we produce 57,081 miles of shit per day. The average circumference of the earth is 24,880 miles. Ergo, every 24 hours humanity produces enough crap to wrap around the earth at the equator and the prime meridian with enough left over to make a nice turd bow to at the Artic Circle.

Voluminously: Our collective daily crap could fill 504 Olympic sized swimming pools or ½ of the Great Pyramid.

Spatially: That’s enough crap to build a new 2 lane road from Seattle to Miami everyday or enough to cover Central Park 12 turds deep.

Massively: It’s equivalent in weight to about 36,000 M1 Abrams Tanks or 7 Empire State buildings.

Poetically: That’s a lot of motherfucking shit.

Blogger Jihad

There are so many similarities: No cure, a consequence of being gay, sent here by god as a punishment for mankind’s sins. And now I just found another one. Like AIDS, no one can identify a definitive starting point for blogging.

I had the ammonia nitrate all packed. I disassembled my kitchen timer to make it work. I carefully packed shrapnel all around it. I wrapped it all up in non-descript manilla packaging with no return address and generic postage. I picked out a secluded mail box about 60 miles from my house to drop it in. Everything was set. All I needed was to track down the piece of shit who started blogging so I could properly address my mail bomb.

But it turns out there’s no Blogger 0. No one person responsible for infecting the internet with their insidious viral tripe disease. Oh, Wikipedia, points out a couple of losers who started near the beginning, lists some developers of early websites that helped with blogging and mentions initial versions of the first blogging platforms. But no one can pinpoint and give me a specific target for who started it all.

I was hoping blogs were like vampires too. If I could have found and destroyed the head blogger, the one who infected everyone else with this desire to spill their boring thoughts and ideas onto the internet, then I had hoped his spell over everyone would be broken. All the ones he infected would immediately return to their normal, non-blogging selves.

My pipe bomb dream was probably just a simple pipe dream. Oh well, I’m sure it willl be just like all that asbestos I tore out of my attic; the neighbor kids will find a use for it.

Baby Placebos

Whenever I am out taking the dog for a shit in someone else’s yard and pass a couple, both of whom are over 30, and they are walking more than 1 dog, I always try to figure out which one is infertile.

It’s a medical fact, you can ask any doctor: Any couple that walks more than 1 dog, is having trouble conceiving. And usually the person who’s more serious about their role in this inter-species, awkwardly forced family, is the one who is responsible for it. It’s a medical fact.

Here’s a tip for playing at home: The older the dogs, the more likely it is the woman. Guys won’t dump you because you can’t make babies. It’s not a breakupable offense, often it’s a bonus. Chicks though, have little patience for a dude who can’t knock them up and know there’s more sperm in the sea and aren’t sticking around when there are babies to be made.

Activia, Now With More Scam

For millions of years unenlightened people have been squatting around like imbeciles, never realizing they should be more proactive in controlling their bowels. Like idiots, past generations thought it would be fine to just leave it up to nature to decide when they shit. Never even thinking that they should force bacteria into their system that would help them shit more frequently.

What neanderthals.

How barbaric.

Not fucking with your body and just accepting what it says about how and when you should shit. What a naive, backwards time. Thank god we are such a greatly advanced culture.

Speaking of advanced cultures and forcing your body to shit when you want it to, Bifidus Regularis is both those things. Sounds like a scam right? Well, it is mostly. Bifidus Regularis is the active culture in the shit inducing yogurt; Activia. If you read the literature you will find that Bifidus Regularis is only in Activia. Which sounds pretty impressive until you see the little trademark symbol (™) on it and read further to find out that fucking Bifidus Regularis shit is a trademark held by Dannon.

They cultivated some bullshit bacteria, gave it a hokey, Latin sounding name and paid the Trademark Office so that no one else could use that bullshit, misleading name. Well duh motherfuckers, since you paid to not allow anyone else to use that bullshit, misleading name, nobody else but Activia is going to use that bullshit misleading name.

But don’t feel sorry for the idiots who buy it. Some people were just born to be scammed. Like fatties chasing a weight loss miracle or the old ladies keeping Publisher’s Clearing House in business thinking that they are going to win big in the sweepstakes if they just buy a couple more subscriptions to magazines they don’t need.

Really, most people who get scammed deserve it. I mean, how fucking vain or obsessive/compulsive do you have to be to be worried about the length of time it takes for you to make a poopy? And how fucking much of an unthinking, advertising susceptible retard do you have to be to actually buy something that says it will make you crap like clockwork?

It’s probably best if those people don’t have that money. I mean, they’d probably just blow it on something retarded, like magic yogurt.

Polyanusism

I would much rather have 5 assholes than 2 appendices. Come on that’s a no brainer.

1.   An appendix is gut candy, belly dressing. It does nothing.

B.   Strike that, it does do something and it’s a bad thing. The only confirmed purpose it serves is to get infected and threaten your life. There’s no such thing as an assholectomy

Third.   If I was gay, and that’s a medium sized if, it would have a ton of potential. Ok, don’t think, I’ll spell it out for you: M-e-n-a-g-e, A, S-i-x. And that’s just using 1 guy as an input, you daisy chain that and every homo in the world could simultaneously be in on 1 fuck. Even homophobes have to appreciate and applaud that. And if you wouldn’t pay money to see that, then, well; you’re just gay.

B2. It would add like 4 more dimensions to farting. You could play your ass like a flute, covering up the appropriate butthole to make the appropriate sound. Sure, it would take a lot of practice just to play Twinkle Twinkle with your pentabutthole, but that would be awesome. And, just think of the fireworks shows you could put on when you light them.

Last but not sixth.   It would make shitting so much faster. Of course you’d have to wipe them all still. Hmmm, I guess…Well, it would still be faster. Of course it wouldn’t be exactly 5 times as fast. Well, I haven’t done the exact math, but I am pretty sure you’d be saving a lot of time in there.