We here at the Bathos site have often used the royal we, even when there is no apparent need to, much like the unabomber. [ The Manifesto was great read! ] Untill now we had decided to run this log by ourselves, but starting today we have a added a member with a remarkable and unique privilege to add posts to this very weblog.
The fact that such a team member knows more pimps and ho's than we can count on single hand of course simply confirms her mystic greatness, and we wait with infinite grace for her first post.
Thursday, March 31, 2005
Friday, March 18, 2005
Did you know Santa Claus was a Cannibal?
Child asking : "Did you know Santa was a cannibal?"
Man replying: "Yep, Santa was a Cannibal."
Woman yelling from the other room. "Don't fill that child full of shit. You know damn well that isn't true."
Man: "Yes, he is." Man then gives child an upward glance, next his eyes roll back into his head in a tired expression of self righteousness.
Woman retorting in a huff: "No,... he simply wrote a thesis regarding the biological limitaions to an instictual taboo against cannibalism."
The woman then goes on to add "Further, his The Cultural Contradictions of Cannibalism is considered a classic in the field."
"Yea, right up there with the Joy of Cooking People I hear." The child fit to be tied is thrust into a fit of giggles upon hearing the man's sardonic rejoinder.
"It tastes like chicken." The child then speaks to himself, his eyes glassing over in a fat covered haze.
"People don't cannibalize for the taste of it." The woman corrects.
Man replying: "Yep, Santa was a Cannibal."
Woman yelling from the other room. "Don't fill that child full of shit. You know damn well that isn't true."
Man: "Yes, he is." Man then gives child an upward glance, next his eyes roll back into his head in a tired expression of self righteousness.
Woman retorting in a huff: "No,... he simply wrote a thesis regarding the biological limitaions to an instictual taboo against cannibalism."
The woman then goes on to add "Further, his The Cultural Contradictions of Cannibalism is considered a classic in the field."
"Yea, right up there with the Joy of Cooking People I hear." The child fit to be tied is thrust into a fit of giggles upon hearing the man's sardonic rejoinder.
"It tastes like chicken." The child then speaks to himself, his eyes glassing over in a fat covered haze.
"People don't cannibalize for the taste of it." The woman corrects.
How Snickers Fights For Feminism- A post modern e-mail.
"Are You Hungry?"
Those words have been copyrighted by the Snicker Bar Company. In case you are hungry, or just need to ask someone "if they are" keep that in mind. And while keeping things in mind, keep in mind the great taste and filling nature of a Snickers Bar candy treat.
I can hear you now, "I don't want a snickers it 'll just make me fat!"
Ahhhh. What girl doesn't suffer from a body image problem? Am I Right?
So the good people at Snickers would like you to know they are just as concerned about body image as say, Camille Paglia.
Snickers doesn't want you to listen to that inner voice shaming you about your weight. Go on now. Go ahead. It's ok. Eat as much as you want and stick a giant middle finger up every American guy's ass who thinks "A size 16 pants is fat and so is your ass! "
Are you still hearing voices? Paxil might be good for you, ask your doctor what Paxil can do for you. Paxil is not right for everyone so check with your doctor. Side effects for Paxil include, loss of memory, anxiety, dry mouth, loss of sex drive and a big fat ass.
The following e-mail was brought to you by Google sponsored Text Ads. We bet you can't even find the advertisements™
and by:
"Life is better where the market is."
A message from Chamber of Commerce of the United States of America."We have the freedom you hate us for.!"™
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
50 gmail invites
I've got 50 gmail invites , not sure if this means gmail has gone national or not, but if you want one just ask!
Thursday, March 10, 2005
Steve Nash Hates His Fake Girl Friend.
Just a few days ago a friend and I were out bar hopping when we decided to stop off at the local Hooter's.
The bartender that evening was an attractive blond female who liked to name drop. I discovered her propensity for this activity while eavesdropping on her conversations with other customers.
What I then overheard about local sports icon Steve Nash shocked me to the core! According to our bartender, she had been hit on by him at a party.
"Steve and I are now best friends, and I have only met him once." She swore up and down to all the customers in ear shot. "He let me take a bite of his burger." Finally adding. "And then he said he had to get back and talk to 'the wife'."
Regarding the sobriquet "wife" the bartender explained to us that "unmarried men who dislike their girlfriends always refer to them as 'the wife'."
Her assertion was then counterpoised to the semantic stylings of married men.
Married men were said to prefer the use of the of the more laconic sounding term 'wife.' Further, she went on to claim that good married men who love their wives preferred the use of 'my wife' when reffering to their spouses.
At the time of course I did not know that Steve was actually married. So my guess is that this little skank just misunderstood Steve. He really did needed to get back to his "wife," especially as I hear that Paraguayian women have a mighty jealous streak in them.
You should also know that Steve is a really nice guy. He even has a foundation, and this bartendar was very skinny. Maybe he just thought that she needed a bit of his food for nourishment.
Of course I never fail to comment when I hear Steve Nash's name, it is my sworn duty to point out that while Steve Nash's performances on the field are magnificent, they are at least in part due to his extraordinary genetic heritage. I'm talking about Steve's crossed-eyed cross eyes i.e. Steve Nash is a cross-eyed mutha fucka.
Now upon hearing this obviously bit of disturbing news our nervous colt of a bartender yelped in amazement that she had "never noticed that about him." She may have even made an icky face.
I have a bad feeling I have may just cost Steve Nash some ass from this girl. For that I should apologize.
I need to add into this excitement my EXGF and her new "girlfriend" just 'happened' into the Hooter's.
God, why do lesbians think they can go there too? They've already invaded strip clubs. Is there no place for a pervert to go to objectify women in private anymore?
Monday, February 21, 2005
My life has become a Sienfeld Episode!
Earlier today my two dorkiest friends came over needing me to solve an urgent dilemma for them. It appears that they both had written a song and wanted me to judge which was better. One of my friends likes country and the other liked Rap. Both equally felt it was be easy to write a song from the others genre and set out to prove their point. Now it's up to the readers of this blog to determine the truth.
Here is the first song:
EAST SIDE CREW
Suckers, bow down! Gonna indicate, vindicate and orchestrate
My room full o hos and bitches, my home town crew, and my switches,
My fly G-ride, my boys East Side.
Gonna indicate we don't perpetrate.
We a organized motherfuckin syndicate!
You a punk, bitch!
And you never be free
As long as you wanna be
Just like me!
Your fuckin balls ascend when we descend
Coz you can't comprehend the Men among men.
You try to hide your hos coz you know they goes
Where the green grass grows and the bass beat flows
Their thongs get moist when I roll up in my Royce
And they know their choice, when they hear my voice.
You a punk, bitch!
And you never be free
As long as you wanna be
Just like me!
Harlem girl, my Puerto Rican Haitian,
I'm da pimp of da Nation, accepting applications
Gonna make you my whore, don't care if you're poor
Gotta settle the score, make you beg for more
Gonna take you on adventures, don't care bout yo dentures
Coz you sweet. You a treat. And you don't need no teef to eat my meat.
You a punk, bitch!
And you never be free
As long as you wanna be
Just like me!
You try to break it down with your broken down sound
Singin like a clown, frontin downtown
But your girls they lie as they roll Eastside
After leavin your side, they jockin my fly
They lick my ass after taking your cash
Then I pimp their ass , and I make mo stash.
You a punk, bitch!
And you never be free
As long as you wanna be
Just like me!
You a punk, bitch!
And you never be free
As long as you wanna be
Just like me!
Included for observation was fake liner notes as well!
Liner Notes
This polemic lauds the glories of JC's notorious East Side Crew (also known as the Notorious ESC) Cleverly putting all perpetrators and fronters in their respective places, JCs first rap song employs many classic themes common to the rap genre. JC's touts the proficiencies and virility of himself and his East Side Crew, while simultaneously demeaning the masculinity and sincerity of his rivals.
But make no mistake. This song is also about love, as is tenderly shown in the song's bridge. J.C., rapping to an unknown Puerto Rican Haitian breaks down his desire to take her on untold adventures and shows his willingness to look past her dental deficiencies. The mystery surrounding the identity of the object of JC's affection is reminiscent of the restrained enigmatic tension evoked by a casual gazing upon the Mona Lisa.
Now here is the second song.
Don’t Fight a Midget at the Rodeo Nights
Feeling good on my way to Ro-de-o Nights
Wearin’ my cowboy boots and Wrangler’s so tight
Lookin’ for a cowgirl to take home with me tonight
Just a regular night on the town
Spotted the cutie as I walked in the door
I signaled to her meet me on the dance floor
And as we two-stepped I knew I was gonna score
Until a midget tapped me on my knee and said . . .
‘Scuse me partner, you’re dancing with my wife
Yeah, I’m a midget, but I know how to fight
Lets you and me take this party outside
Fightin’ a midget at the Rodeo Nights
I laughed and laughed as I looked way down
But with one chop he had me on the ground
I was in shock, but as I tried to turn around
He was draggin’ me outside of the bar
He punched my gut and kicked some dirt in my eye
I guess I shouldn’t have laughed at this little guy
Was so embarrassed that I wanted to cry
But I choked by my tears and said . . .
‘Scuse me shorty, didn’t know she was your wife
Yeah you’re a midget, but I don’t wanna fight
Lets you and me shake hands and call it a night
Fightin’ a midget at the Rodeo Nights
He said “Put your dukes up or are you too scared?”
I said “With your size it just wouldn’t be fair.”
He swiped at my legs and my feet went in the air
A crowd gathered and they started to cheer.
I couldn’t get up, couldn’t open my eyes
He said “Next time pick on someone your own size.”
If you’re at Rodeo Nights it wouldn’t be wise
To go two-steppin’ with that midget’s wife.
When you see a little partner with his tall blonde wife
Yeah, he’s a midget but he puts up a good fight
I would suggest to you to run for your life
Don’t fight a midget at the Rodeo Nights
Don’t fight a midget at the Rodeo Nights!!!
Now here comes the liner notes:
“Don’t Fight a Midget at the Rodeo Nights” is mo’ than a whack ass country song. It’s about juice, respect,, lovin your bitch so much that you’d fight for her, and of course, MIDGETS!!!
What had happened was, this white dude (he’s clearly white b/c he’s wearin Wranglers, yo) was lookin for some trim at this spot called Rodeo Nights. When he finally peeps a chickenhead to bang (skeet skeet), he finds out that honeydip is wifed up by a shorty on the for real. Word! Her old man is a midget (or height challenged).
So, midget pulls white Wrangler dude aside to conversate about the mad disrespect he’s showin for him and his wifey. When Wrangler dude laughs, Midget wants to box, but Wrangler dude isn’t tryin to hear that. But midget punks his ass by takin dude out at the knee level. Then, midget tells Wrangler dude to scrap with someone his ouw size if he doesn’t want to get clowned again. The moral of the story is don’t reckless eyeball a midget’s old girl if you don’t wanna get your honkey ass beat like you stole some money. One!
Since Neither of my friends trusts my judgement maybe yall out in cyberland can judge for them!
Here is the first song:
EAST SIDE CREW
Suckers, bow down! Gonna indicate, vindicate and orchestrate
My room full o hos and bitches, my home town crew, and my switches,
My fly G-ride, my boys East Side.
Gonna indicate we don't perpetrate.
We a organized motherfuckin syndicate!
You a punk, bitch!
And you never be free
As long as you wanna be
Just like me!
Your fuckin balls ascend when we descend
Coz you can't comprehend the Men among men.
You try to hide your hos coz you know they goes
Where the green grass grows and the bass beat flows
Their thongs get moist when I roll up in my Royce
And they know their choice, when they hear my voice.
You a punk, bitch!
And you never be free
As long as you wanna be
Just like me!
Harlem girl, my Puerto Rican Haitian,
I'm da pimp of da Nation, accepting applications
Gonna make you my whore, don't care if you're poor
Gotta settle the score, make you beg for more
Gonna take you on adventures, don't care bout yo dentures
Coz you sweet. You a treat. And you don't need no teef to eat my meat.
You a punk, bitch!
And you never be free
As long as you wanna be
Just like me!
You try to break it down with your broken down sound
Singin like a clown, frontin downtown
But your girls they lie as they roll Eastside
After leavin your side, they jockin my fly
They lick my ass after taking your cash
Then I pimp their ass , and I make mo stash.
You a punk, bitch!
And you never be free
As long as you wanna be
Just like me!
You a punk, bitch!
And you never be free
As long as you wanna be
Just like me!
Included for observation was fake liner notes as well!
Liner Notes
This polemic lauds the glories of JC's notorious East Side Crew (also known as the Notorious ESC) Cleverly putting all perpetrators and fronters in their respective places, JCs first rap song employs many classic themes common to the rap genre. JC's touts the proficiencies and virility of himself and his East Side Crew, while simultaneously demeaning the masculinity and sincerity of his rivals.
But make no mistake. This song is also about love, as is tenderly shown in the song's bridge. J.C., rapping to an unknown Puerto Rican Haitian breaks down his desire to take her on untold adventures and shows his willingness to look past her dental deficiencies. The mystery surrounding the identity of the object of JC's affection is reminiscent of the restrained enigmatic tension evoked by a casual gazing upon the Mona Lisa.
Now here is the second song.
Don’t Fight a Midget at the Rodeo Nights
Feeling good on my way to Ro-de-o Nights
Wearin’ my cowboy boots and Wrangler’s so tight
Lookin’ for a cowgirl to take home with me tonight
Just a regular night on the town
Spotted the cutie as I walked in the door
I signaled to her meet me on the dance floor
And as we two-stepped I knew I was gonna score
Until a midget tapped me on my knee and said . . .
‘Scuse me partner, you’re dancing with my wife
Yeah, I’m a midget, but I know how to fight
Lets you and me take this party outside
Fightin’ a midget at the Rodeo Nights
I laughed and laughed as I looked way down
But with one chop he had me on the ground
I was in shock, but as I tried to turn around
He was draggin’ me outside of the bar
He punched my gut and kicked some dirt in my eye
I guess I shouldn’t have laughed at this little guy
Was so embarrassed that I wanted to cry
But I choked by my tears and said . . .
‘Scuse me shorty, didn’t know she was your wife
Yeah you’re a midget, but I don’t wanna fight
Lets you and me shake hands and call it a night
Fightin’ a midget at the Rodeo Nights
He said “Put your dukes up or are you too scared?”
I said “With your size it just wouldn’t be fair.”
He swiped at my legs and my feet went in the air
A crowd gathered and they started to cheer.
I couldn’t get up, couldn’t open my eyes
He said “Next time pick on someone your own size.”
If you’re at Rodeo Nights it wouldn’t be wise
To go two-steppin’ with that midget’s wife.
When you see a little partner with his tall blonde wife
Yeah, he’s a midget but he puts up a good fight
I would suggest to you to run for your life
Don’t fight a midget at the Rodeo Nights
Don’t fight a midget at the Rodeo Nights!!!
Now here comes the liner notes:
“Don’t Fight a Midget at the Rodeo Nights” is mo’ than a whack ass country song. It’s about juice, respect,, lovin your bitch so much that you’d fight for her, and of course, MIDGETS!!!
What had happened was, this white dude (he’s clearly white b/c he’s wearin Wranglers, yo) was lookin for some trim at this spot called Rodeo Nights. When he finally peeps a chickenhead to bang (skeet skeet), he finds out that honeydip is wifed up by a shorty on the for real. Word! Her old man is a midget (or height challenged).
So, midget pulls white Wrangler dude aside to conversate about the mad disrespect he’s showin for him and his wifey. When Wrangler dude laughs, Midget wants to box, but Wrangler dude isn’t tryin to hear that. But midget punks his ass by takin dude out at the knee level. Then, midget tells Wrangler dude to scrap with someone his ouw size if he doesn’t want to get clowned again. The moral of the story is don’t reckless eyeball a midget’s old girl if you don’t wanna get your honkey ass beat like you stole some money. One!
Since Neither of my friends trusts my judgement maybe yall out in cyberland can judge for them!
Thursday, February 17, 2005
So that's how this photo thingy works
Wow I can Computer good. Now I just need help figuring how to get the pic on my blogger profile any suggestions yall?
Even more Good news I have added Blogrolling links, BEG and I will aDd you!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
