porkjerky plog
The Fine Line Between Toilet and GMAC Bowls
Speaking of Bowl Games (which I did yesterday, btw, (I write ‘btw’ because now that I am a blogger I need to take all the shortcuts I can to save my precious time. Also, it allows me to impress upon my readership (you), that my vocabulary is so robust and big and shit that I don’t need to write out simple phrases like ‘by the way’ to fully communicate. I am such a great writer I can just aaa (‘abbreviate almost anything’, duh (not an abbreviation for anything, that’s just ‘duh’)) and if you don’t understand what I am typing then urafi (now that’s not technically an abbreviation, that’s internet shorthand for ‘you’re a fucking idiot’, which obviously you didn’t know, being an urafi (again, you’re a fucking idiot) and all. The only problem with writing on such a complexly advanced level is that I have no fucking clue how many right parenthesis its going to take to close out this fucking thing (I am going with 2, not including the one to close this parenthetical comment about my parenthetical comments, which is here->))), the game we have been waiting all year for is on tonight.
Hell fuck yeah. The G-motherfucking-M-cocksucking-A-bitchslapping-C Bowl is on tonight.
I know, I know, me too. Like millions of others around the country I spent all September, October and November constantly worrying that I would not get my dream match up for the GMAC Bowl. Would last year’s GMAC Bowl champions be able to choke out a loss in the CUSA championship game and set up a chance to defend their title against the MAC runner up? I was on pins and needles for like ever.
But then BAM–the stars align up, Christmas gets saved and tonight we get the answer to the question that has haunted mankind every since we became civilized and started chopping foreskin off our cocks—is Tulsa better than Ball State.
College football in January makes my brissed dick hard. More on that later, btw.
Holy Crap
Finally a shit to be proud of. Now that’s how a real American man craps. Look at that virile turd. With shit like that obviously my dick is huge. Jesus Christ Almighty, its so enormous its starting to wrap around the god damn toilet.
Yet again, I have impressed myself—and that’s no easy task.
I am going to have to check with my grandfather and get the true story of my lineage, because that crap reeks of nobility. With shit like that running through my bowels, I must have royalty running through my veins. That’s no serf crap, that’s the shit of a man with a mission.
Of course, not all the glory goes to me. Come on, if this season of playoffs and series of bowl championships has taught us anything it’s that everything is done for His honor. Everything.
Quarterback sacks, 19 yard field goals, open field tackles, first downs, end-a-rounds and touchdowns are always for his glory. So, I too would like to do the right thing and thank the good Lord for blessing me with this ability to shit so mightily. For it is only with Him squatting beside me that I am able to crap so divinely. In his glory and with the strength only He can provide, I honor him by shitting to the best of my abilities.
In his name, no matter how magnificent the pile in my toilet, I always wipe my ass, point to heaven and say ‘Amen’.
Deep Shit
If our crap tasted like cinnamon, we would eat less cinnamon or more shit?
By The Hair On My Rectum
Three days in and I already faced my first moral dilemma with this shitting blog. Ok its half past 11pm, I haven’t turded all day—do I try to squat and thrust one out so I have something to post? Do I show a picture of my empty toilet and profusely apologize for not being able to deliver? Maybe I just say screw it and tell the huge audience I have built up that I am taking weekends off.
Boy, how wrong I was about what bloggers go through to deliver their high quality content. Its definetly not as easy I first thought.
Yeah, right, eat my shit.
Luckily, I guess, the glass of milk I drank at 10 kicked in and my moral crises was avoided. Now, I am not one of these god damn martyrs who love to bring up their lactose intolerance to the world. Jesus fucking Christ its like those motherfuckers are war veterans serving their country with their inability to digest lactose. They bring it up at every opportunity and want both your pity and respect. Suck my dick.
In reality, I may not even be lactose intolerant, I just know it makes me shit. And liquidily at that. So at 11:40 and I it was like I was shooting hot BB’s out my ass—hot, fast, a bunch of plopping, I mean a bunch of plopping and then everything sank.
Not much too see, but by the grace of god I made it.
“Why Does The Web Suck”
With today’s crap I sat and pondered ‘why does the web suck?’. Then it struck me like the cold water from the black splash of a crashing turd. No wait, there was no like about it–that’s exactly what happened.
That’s why I won’t shit in publicly accessible bathrooms. How horrible would it be to get A.I.D.S. from gas station toilet water splashing up into your asshole? I mean #1, do you tell that story to people when they ask how you got it? #2 do you really expect people to buy it? And #3 wouldn’t getting it from being fucked in the ass at a truck stop shower while you were someone’s bitch for $8 and a strip of Pemmican Beef Jerky be a more noble way to contract A.I.D.S. anyway? Call me old fashioned.
Hell, even if its not A.I.D.S., how would you like to catch something like even the flu from water splashing back into your gaping asshole? No thank you sir. Until they make toilet protectors that guard against that I am crapping only in familiar surroundings unless it’s a life and death emergency and no shrubbery is around.
After my unwanted, accidental bidet, I struck upon a great way to find out why does the web suck: I googled the phrase “’why does the web suck’” (Notice the single quotes, those are important). I wanted to find that exact phrase and hopefully the results would enlighten me. Unfortunately I was disappointed because my search did, far more than I anticipated.
It was like being a poor kid in a Jehovah Witness’s orphanage on Christmas during a recession; expecting only underwear and socks but getting a torn pair of shit-stained not so tidy whities, 4 sizes to small and an IOU for thrift store socks. My expectations were low for this search, and the actual results were even worse.
Google gave me 7 pages: 1 was the captured text from a chat room discussion of 2 nerds. Then I got 2 results each for blogs, forums and ad farms—each more boring and drivel filled than the previous one.
Turns out when you ask the web why does it suck, it’s because it does. My hypothesis about the web and entire point for having this blog is even truer than I thought.
The Shit Hits The Web
Welcome to my addition to the ongoing, worldwide project of bringing the web down upon itself. Remember when the net used to be useful and worthwhile? Google used to work. Ads didn’t cover 90% of a page and links weren’t paid to be everywhere, but were there because they lead to more useful stuff. Sure, sure, every other site was a picture of some guy shoving his fist up his own ass, but when you didn’t get him the site you got was worth something.
Now, though, it’s all pablum. The web is essentially a quadrillion pages of diary entries from 12 year old girls. And boring 12 year old girls at that. None are addicted to heroin, none are giving hand jobs to the school janitor and no one is cutting themselves because their step-dad du jour is playing hide the cockshaft with them. Every page of the web is just boring shit about what her cat did today, how much she hates algebra and asparagus (it makes your pee smell 
, lol), and wondering if her boobies will ever get as big as her sister’s. That’s the web in a nutshell.
Worse still, everyone feels the need and is able to post their worthless comments on her worthless subjects. Everyone’s weighing in on what her cat did today, how much she hates algebra and asparagus (lmao, it does smell 
) and helping her cope with her boobies. The final kick to the web’s nuts is that every link on every page is some bullshit ad that nets the owner of the site 3 thousandth of a cent per click garnering them almost enough each month to cover the PayPal charges for receiving their earnings.
Fuck you. People like you are the reason the web sucks in 2009. Bring back the good ole days–even with the stretched out assholed guy. He was a small price to pay.
I mean really, who the fuck cares about the day to day happens of some random fuck on the internet? (That’s rhetorical by the simple fact you are reading this. See the picture accompanying this post for clarification). You are a dumbfuck and with each view and comment of a blog you are only encouraging more worthless shit being puked onto the web.
So, I give up. You dipfucks win. I am selling out. I am giving what you want. Starting today, I am embracing blogging and a new motto:
Then drown the motherfuckers in their own shit.’
This blog isn’t for you; this blog is you.
Example Post
This is a sample post of the figurative and literal shit I will be posting on my plog. Thats right, starting on January 1, 2009 I will begin my poop log and chronicle my craps, providing you and tens of others with seconds upon seconds of lowest common denominator entertainment. Trust me, you stupid fucks are gonna eat it up.
So bookmark this page, become an advertiser, start telling your grandparents, friends and co-workers about the great things to come in 2009. Because I shit you not (holy christ sortamighty that saying’s gonna get old fast), this plog is going to take off like chlamydia in a nursing home.
