Archive for the ‘Burglary’ Category

By Lazlo

St. Petersburg, Florida There is nothing in this world sorrier than a grown man crying about the consequences of his own dumbassery. I know we live in the era of “sensitivity” and all that happy horseshit,  but come on. If you are fucking up, be a man and take your beating. In Michael Dupree’s case, I mean that literally.

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By ThinkGoat

Lincoln, Illinois Feast your eyes upon this fine male specimen. He was mighty sexy prior to the eye tattoos that are such the rage now with the wild children, but with them, that dark-eyed look really gives me a warm fuzzy feeling. Imagine being his girlfriend. Come on, you can do it. Stop gagging long enough to think about all you’d have to look at while sitting opposite of him. Those artful tattoos. Such imagination. The sword through the nose, the white-boy’s grill catching the light just right…dazzling. Scoff nay-sayers, he found himself a woman who managed to get past the heaves and if the damn authorities would keep their noses out of this awesome couple’s business, they’d be married by now. (more…)

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By ThinkGoat

Santa Ana, California Pessimists can say I’m well over a month late in singing Christmas carols – optimists will declare I’m extremely early. Either way, I’m unaffected as I sit her singing the cute little ditty over and over in my head. “Up on the rooftop, click, click, click. Climbing down the ladder with my yanked dick.” Sure puts you in a festive mood, doesn’t it? Kind of like the mood motorists were in the other day as they traveled down Santa Ana’s 5 freeway as their attention was called to a naked man beating his own best friend. (more…)

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By ThinkGoat

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania I don’t know who hasn’t chuckled at the old-time shows and cartoons where the wife takes a frying pan to her husband’s head. I am not sure that the younger generation has been exposed to the hilarity because, for some damn reason, that act alone became frowned upon as it was deemed abuse. Pffft. There’s nothing that says, “I’m sick of your shit” than a skillet-melon meeting. And as I type this out, my smile is quickly wiped off my face as the subject comes back into focus. When I was younger, the image ended with the recipient reaching up to their head rubbing it with a sorry look on their face. Not once did it end with a broken skillet resulted by smashing someone’s head completely in. Damn teenagers these days have no sense of proportion. (more…)