No, I'm not dead.

I am, however, transcribing most of my terrible thoughts with others over at my new website:

TextsBetweenMen.com

Historically Accurate. Apparently Wildly Inappropriate.

It's time for the Thanksgiving edition of "Things That Are Historically Accurate but Still Wildly Inappropriate...Apparently".

• Brandishing a blunderbuss around the city center, and telling the police it's "totally cool, man" because you're "keeping the natives at bay"
• Insisting that your family list all the things that they're thankful for, and then, when it's your turn, proclaiming "I'm thankful for the Chinese". Going on to add that they "aim to please", and "only come up to your knees"
• Constantly referring to your scrotum as your "waddle", complete with your DIY red paint job to make it look authentic
• Inviting your neighbors over for a lovely diner, waiting for them to arrive, bludgeoning them to death with a hatchet, and then claiming their house as yours under the law case of "Finders v. Keepers"
• Giving a cooking school demonstration on how to make turducken, by inserting a live chicken up a living duck's ass, which is then inserted up a live turkey's ass. And referring to the whole shebang as a "holiday-bird-centipede"
• Bringing stuffing to your family affair, and telling everyone to enjoy, as it contains "real bits of injin" in it
• Attempting to make any amount of hats, clothing, or ceremonial garb out of the native wildlife. Even though the period correct animals of today just happen to be alley cats and pigeons.
• Trying to be topical with the recent elections by stating that everyone sharing food is "socialist" and that all the Republicans are "welcome to eat outside". Then trying to smooth that over by letting uncle Jim know that he can carve the turkey since he lost his job and "needs to feel like a man again"
• Telling your in-laws that you can't help clean up after the feast, citing that you're "white" and that cleaning up is "Squanto's duty"
• Attempting to buy holiday necessities with, or even mentioning that you have, human scalps
• Telling the aunt that brought ToFurkey to the festivities that she's "making the pilgrims cry with her homosexual offering"
• Letting your family know that you have to leave early because you intend to spend your night "masturbating to internet videos of native women, because that's what our forefathers did"

Inappropriate White Upper Middle Class Rage

For those either too liberal, too intelligent or too non-white to decipher it, this note, which is placed at a Boy Scout Troop's canned food drive in Michigan, reads as follows:

This is the last time I will donate anything to any charity. It's Obama's problem not mine.

Good on you, sir. Knock those uppity, coddling Boy Scouts down a few pegs. They may not be old enough to understand the delicate political issues at play in your odd choice of public forum, but they'll put it in their tiny pipes and smoke it anyway. This plan also has the added benefit of not only punishing the Boy Scouts for their audacity, but will also punish those truly less fortunate by forcing your disgusting almond milk upon them. Pow! Double whammy!

Don't want to drink nut milk? Should have voted for Romney, you commie dickhead!

As a triple bonus, when the tiny boy's minds invariably finish "reeling" from your "dealing" you dished out, and realize that helping people and being generally good-willed, is nothing more than a steaming pile of democratic horse tits, they'll finally earn their coveted Wrinkly White Butthole badge.

Letter From HR

Hobbles Answers Your Pressing Medical Questions

jchandy

My Special Time Of The Month

I'll be 12 in a few months, and my mother sat me aside last week to give me a little chat about something called 'my special time of the month'. She also called it a period, but she didn't go into detail as to what it was or why it happens, she just said it's me becoming a woman. I'm nervous about what it could be, could you enlighten me?

Hobbles
M.D.

Sure. A period is what happens when a woman goes batshit crazy, and her crotch goes supernova, for 30 days once every month.

You're eleven years old, and on the internet talking about your lady bits? Fool me three times, Chris Hansen, shame on me.

mercury-t

Bleed Me A River

I have had 3 nose bleeds in the past 10 hours. The first one was really bad. I couldve prbly filled a cup and a 1/2. And the second one was not as bad. The third one was almost as bad as the first one. What could it be caused from? I dont normally get nosebleeds. Im 20 and the last time i had a nose bleed was when i was 12.

Hobbles
M.D.

Sounds like ebola to me. Definitely ebola. Either that, for late-stage onset face AIDS. If I were a betting man, I'd bet it was either ebola of face AIDS. Unfortunately, although I am a betting man, I have no free funds left to bet, as I went all-in on the bet that between you and death, death would be victorious here. Anyone looking to make some quick cash should make that same wager; it's a safe bet.

b.d-betsy

An Old Wooden Ship

I'm an older woman, who's made the unfortunate choice of being a smoker for the last 20-something years. Recently, I've noticed that sometimes when I bend over and struggled to pick something up off the floor, like heavy bags, or when I sneeze or laugh too hard sometimes I have...an accident. I urinate a little bit, and I'm worried that it means I'm becoming incontinent. Is there anything I can do to combat this accidental leaking?

Hobbles
M.D.

Sweet Christ, that's gross. Gathering the courage to ask this question online is one thing, but how you muster the constitution to leave your home with this embarrassing-as-shit condition is beyond me. Here's a solution, drippy: put a tarp down in your home, where you inevitably live alone with several cats, and wait patiently for death to alleviate you of your disgusting ailment. The key to this plan is to never leave the damp comfort of your tarp. Boom! Problem solved.

gregUSC

Beets Me

This may be an odd question, but I've noticed that anytime I eat beets, my poop is quite red; is this normal? Could it indicate that something's wrong with me?

Hobbles
M.D.

Believe me, in my medical opinion, there's lots that's fucking wrong with you. I draw this conclusion from having had sex with many pre-med students, and having seen Total Recall not less than 25 times. So you can bet your ass I know what the hell I'm talking about, there, Shitty McShit Looker.

Jen.S

Is It Chilly In Here?

Are the bumps on my butt and on the backs of my arms pimples?

Hobbles
M.D.

Short answer: no. Long answer: those are tiny colonies of your virginity, futilely attempting to leave their orc-ish host to which they seem to be so cruelly affixed. Trapped in a symbiotic relationship, where they give you a lumpy hide that protects you from any potential mates, and you give them the sight of you masturbating in the Wendy's bathroom after drinking too much Mountain Dew.

Ren

Mr. Universe

So I want to wear a tank top to school one day cause it's been like 90 degrees for like a month straight and stuff.. But freshman year I played football and the pads made me get back acne.. It's a lot better now but there are scars and stuff on my back still and it's embarrassing.. I don't want people making fun of me. Advice?

Hobbles
M.D.

Valid concern. Allow me to better understand your issue by posing the following question: are you filming an episode of Jersey Shore, or are you just a woman? The only question for a man in which tank tops are the answer is "All these dudes around are making me erect. What shirt should I wear to let them know I'm down to chug the mayo?"

QtrPndr

Nope

Isn't it better to be fat? Think about it, you get what you want and don't have to worry about uncomfortable clothes; just where sweats. they are always warm in the winter and they are bigger meaning great self defense skills. Oh and i hear fat sex is the best. In fact studies show that fat males last longer than thin average sized males in bed.

Hobbles
M.D.

Stay tuned for tonight's episode of "Stuff lardasses say to justify being so lardassular", where QtrPndr faces the harsh reality that his neutron star-sized midsection is pulling communication satellites out of orbit, and faces harsh U.N. peanut butter sanctions as a result.

Twilight14

I Choose To Do This

My mom is screaming at me and yelling "why can't you control your coughing" while I am doubled over on the floor and almost gagging. I can't even sleep at night because of the coughing. She even said "why can't you cure it, its been a week". I am only 15 what should I do? I am taking Robitussin and cough drops and drinking a lot of water...

Hobbles
M.D.

The answer is quite simple: when she begins to yell at you, yell back as loud as you can "SERENITY NOW! SERENITY NOW!". Also, do NOT allow her to give away your Waterpik to Lloyd Braun. Failing that, just call her a cunt, and shove her.

Tes420

God's Cruel Mistake

So, I just realized I have those wierd spots pregnant ladies get, but a bit faded on the edges, and, um... in a pretty weird place. And no I am not pregnant, Im a virgin and never even plan to mess around pre-mairrage.

There is 7-10 of these wierd spots on nowhere but my buttcheek. All in the shape of a circle, not just the edges of a circle, and pretty evenly spaced.

Once again, I apologize for the akwardness ... but I doubt you would be dying to go to the doctor to get your butt examined either.

Is that unusual? Is there a way to fix it? Must I see a doctor?

Hobbles
M.D.

First, we need to get a precise assessment of your bare ass cheeks, for scientific purposes. So I'm gonna need you to swing by my home. Second, thanks for the highly detailed description of your ass, which should help when I do the knuckle shuffle on my piss pipe later.

Bust_it_baby

It's Just Science

i have big lips. a lot of people say they're plump and pretty and everything & I always cover them in lip gloss lol because they get chapped easily. why do i have such big lips?

Hobbles
M.D.

Maybe you're black.

Katie

That's It, Just Keep Puffing, Don't Stop

I'm 20 years old. I've been smoking since I was 15. I smoke a pack a day and I'm far from what you would call "a social smoker". Last night I was smoking a cigarette and the first two or three drags I was fine but then every drag I took after made me more and more nauseous. I ended up putting out the cigarette after only smoking half of it and threw up right after. This has NEVER happened to me in 5 years of smoking. What does this mean?

Hobbles
M.D.

I wouldn't be too worried. My uncle had the same thing happen to him a few years back. Turns out what he thought was a cigarette was actually a clown's penis he was smoking. Were you also smoking a clown's penis? Cotton candy near the base of the shaft is a definitive test.

Charity

Turn That Frown Upside Down

I feel like there is no reason to be happy I have went through the hardest things in life and I'm just tired of everything.When I am happy someone or something I hear makes me sad :/ I may kill myself I'm sick and, tired of everything.I feel like theres no point in life. :'(

Hobbles
M.D.

I see your English composition skills committed suicide a while back. But what I find most upsetting is that Chinese food is made of cats. I mean, who knew?

Arnold

Fight Fire With Fire

Is strep throat and hot sauce a bad idea or good one that actually i can benefit from? will this help go away faster am think it hurt even more????

Hobbles
M.D.

You are correct in thinking you will benefit from this. If you don't believe me, ask someone to kick you in the dick (simulating your painful throat), and then alieve this newfound pain by sticking your prick in a fireant mound (simulating your sexy hot sauce mound).

No-Nonsense Movie Review: The Dark Knight Rises

What a whiny fucking movie.

There I was, minding my own business in the crowded theater, in the seat next to the handicapped-accessible seat near the front row. This is a good spot because rarely do I see many circularly-enabled people wheeling into the movies, thus meaning no dickhead would sit next to me. For whatever reason, director Christopher Nolan decided to include a wheelie in this movie session however, just to throw a literal cog into my monkey-wrench. What transpired was the following:

Wheelie Bin

Can I have that seat there?

Me

Go right ahead, I'm not using it.

Wheelie Bin

Can you move to another seat for me?

Me

Why? That's the accessible seat, just sit there.

Wheelie Bin

Look, I'm handicapped, and like the space, so just do me this favor.

Me

What, so because you're in a wheelchair, the empty, reserved seat isn't enough for you? You need the whole row to yourself? You're not even fat, you can fit in the normal space. Just sit in the seat designated for you and be done with it.

Wheelie Bin

I hope you feel proud taking things away from handicapped people.

Me

The seats right there. Don't blame me for the loss of your legs, just because some chinaman took them from you in Korea.

At this point, wheelie bin angrily rolls off, and chooses, instead of in any theater seat at all, to sit in her wheelchair, in between a row of seats by herself. Since she clearly didn't want the seat made for her, I put my Raisinettes there instead.

I'm not sure what artistic point Christopher Nolan was trying to convey to the viewers with this particular scene, but it left me feeling awkward, that's for sure. Of course, so as to allude to things to come, this secret ending happened after the credits rolled:

Wheelie Bin

Thanks for taking my seat, asshole.

Me

You're still sitting in your seat.

I don't care if you did come to the movie dressed like this:

There's only so much special treatment you're going to get.


1 out of 5 stars

No-Nonsense Movie Review: Prometheus

Utter rubbish.

Lots of people had problems with this film because they felt it either left too much to the viewer's imagination in regards to its ties to the Alien plot-line, or because they felt that it was a stabbing at issues fundamental to all modern religions. However, my issue with it was far more intrinsic. As far as I can work out from my seat, Ridley Scott chose to fill the film with 124 minutes of:

• The 57 year-old pot-smoking man to my left constantly uttering combinations of the phrases "oh my god", "look out", "oh no", as well as endless surprised and/or approving guttural moans. Additionally, when any serious action would happen on screen, such as alien attacks, he would stunningly choreograph his own take on the fight scene by punching at the air whilst shouting his catchphrase "oh my god".
• A group of five people to my right adding awful one-liners to film dialog, like an episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000 written by, and staring, retards exclusively. Coupled with their incessant arguing for two hours that the character Peter Weyland in the film was played by Val Kilmer. Utterly convinced that this character...

Was not played by...

Guy Pearce; as we can see by there being no resemblance in the two photos. And was instead played by...

Fatass Val Kilmer.

Awful and terrible. Shame on you Mr. Scott. Were it not for these characters that you chose to incorporate into my theater experience for whatever reason, your film may well have been enjoyable.


1 out of 5 stars

Mass Effect 4 Gameplay Preview

Through much legwork, lots of hacking work, and some reach-around work, I've come into possession of information not yet seen anywhere outside of Bioware software. Prepare to be blown away. Set your erect computer-gaming nipples to stun, because by clicking on the newly-discovered logo below you'll find an interactive demo of the first 20 minutes of gameplay in Mass Effect 4!

Returning to their Mass Effect 2 roots, the developers chose to weed out non-hardcore gamers by making commander Shepard forced to spend roughly the first half hour of the game checking his email that he got since the end of the last game. Apparently, the game doesn't let you continue the storyline until your unread email count is zero. Should be pretty fucking awesome.

So Long, And Thanks For All The Internets

Well, folks, it's all over for me. It's the end of the road, but it's been a fun journey. We've had some good laughs, some good pixels, some good internets, but all rides come to an end. Unfortunately, mine is ending sooner than I'd like, simply because I committed a hate crime, and must now face the consequences. Allow me to elaborate.

Like all racially-motivated crimes of hate, mine started at a local Great Khan's Mongolian BBQ establishment.

Since the courts will likely need a verbose explanation of my crimes, I've whipped up a handy diagram to explain my extreme guilt, likely leading to my permanent incarceration. The key to the diagram is as follows:

The Fonz giving an awesome thumbs up	Me
Cheech wearing culturally correct Mongolian head garb	Great Khan's employees
Martin Lawrence as Big Momma	Sassy black mother building piles of food on her tray
"I fucking love coloring" kid	Annoying child of mother, playing a Nintendo DS

Here we can see the state of things shortly after I paid my $8, earning the right to amass my piles of meats and veggies on my plate. Look out lamb meat, here I come!

Following normal, societal norms, sassy black lady and I both continued on our linear accoutrement journey through the various ingredient stations. Take note however, that her spawn is roughly stationary.

The issue outlined in the previous frame has become an ever more pressing matter now. As we can see, I'm right next to the child, which is highly engrossed in whatever games kids play nowadays; likely some simulation where you try to impregnate as many high school girls as possible. Regardless, the spawn is now physically blocking me from getting at the broccoli and bean sprouts, while the mother is miles away.

Despite looming directly over this impediment, my comments of "please participate in the line", and "jesus christ" simply fell upon deaf years. It was hail mary time.

I pulled from my bag of tricks a little move I like to call "shove the little black kid". Hate crime: committed.

The hint was well received, as he moved the fuck on, but at what price? I'll likely spend the rest of my life in prison, once news of this egregious assault reverberates through the African American community. I was only one more shoved black kid away from getting the chair, I'm sure.

The people that really suffer here, aside from the kid that was slightly jostled, are you, my loyal blog readers. I doubt I'll be able to continue contributing articles once I'm serving out my life sentence. And for that, I apologize to all of you. But not to that kid. You don't stand between a man and his cooked lamb meat. Some lessons are learned the hard way, but he knows that now.

So long, readers, and thanks for all the internets.

Cox: Still Cocks

From a phone conversation that transpired just yesterday.

Customer Service Man That Sounds Like Tyrone Biggums

Thanks for calling Cox, how can I serve you today?

Me

Hello, I'd like to cancel my television service.

Customer Service Man That Sounds Like Tyrone Biggums

I'm sorry to hear that. Any particular reason you're thinking about getting rid of your service?

Me

I just rarely watch TV, so it seems silly to keep paying for it.

Customer Service Man That Sounds Like Tyrone Biggums

I can understand that. I rarely watch TV myself, but I like having the option, or to have it on in the background. You know?

Customer Service Man That Sounds Like Tyrone Biggums

I see here that you have the basic package. Maybe we can do something with that so you can keep your service.

Me

That's nice and all, but, like I said, if I don't watch the television, any package just seems sort of a waste.

Customer Service Man That Sounds Like Tyrone Biggums

Right now, you have channels 2-99, for $50 a month. I'd hate to see you lose local news channels and ESPN. I could get you a bundle deal that would lower it to only $30 a month. And that'll be good for 6 whole months.

Me

And then after the 6 months? Back to the same price right?

Customer Service Man That Sounds Like Tyrone Biggums

That's correct. But you'd have 6 months of lower payments.

Me

Which means in 6 months I'd have to remember to call and cancel then, as opposed to just cancelling now, which is what I'd like to do.

Customer Service Man That Sounds Like Tyrone Biggums

Everyone has a smartphone nowadays, just set a reminder with that for 6 months from now. No big deal.

Me

Why in god's name would I want to do that?

Customer Service Man That Sounds Like Tyrone Biggums

Sir, I just saved you $20 a month. I'm sure you buy more than $20 of crap every month anyway. I mean, that's....*fiddling with desk calculator*.....72 cents a day. Anyone can afford that price!

Me

And I'd rather buy $20 more "crap" per month than pay for cable that, as I said, I don't watch anyway. I can always turn it back on if I want.

Customer Service Man That Sounds Like Tyrone Biggums

If you cancel now, you'll have to pay a $30 to turn the service back on, and you'll lose any "current customer" discounts, so your plan could be much more expensive in the future.

Me

So? The alternative is to throw $30 out the window monthly anyway. Just one month of not doing that would cover the $30 it takes to type into the computer to turn my service back on.

Customer Service Man That Sounds Like Tyrone Biggums

Why don't we just try the special package I offered you for at least a month? It's just a single month. What could go wrong with only one month of trying it?

Me

Have we thrown the option of turning my service off entirely out the window now as well?

Customer Service Man That Sounds Like Tyrone Biggums

.

I'm just trying to save your service, so that you don't miss out on local news and ESPN.

Me

You do know that I have your internet service, right? I'm not missing out on the world.

Customer Service Man That Sounds Like Tyrone Biggums

.

The background noise, sir! Welcome the background noise into your life! Plus, you get ESPN!

Me

Look, all I want to do is cancel my television service. And all you want is to convince me that channels 2-99 will bang me gently while ESPN gives me a reach-around. I don't care.

Customer Service Man That Sounds Like Tyrone Biggums

So you're just going to go without television and news? Just going to have no access to the important things happening in your area? Like a hermit?

Me

Yes; how can I get that? Is there someone there that can give me that idyllic scenario you just described, and where I can also keep 50 extra dollars in my pocket?

Customer Service Man That Sounds Like Tyrone Biggums

One dollar and seven cents per day. That's all it takes to keep your service.

Me

No television for me, I'm all set.

Customer Service Man That Sounds Like Tyrone Biggums

Would you like us to downgrade your internet service today as well? We can get you out of that peksy cable modem and into a nice 56k dial-up system today. Perfect for hermits that shun the outside world such as yourself. How's that sound?

Me

Are you quite through? Are we good here?

Customer Service Man That Sounds Like Tyrone Biggums

Fine. I'll make the changes to your account. They'll dock my pay and my children will not get the leg braces the doctors say they need. How's that sound to you?

Me

Let's do just that.

Customer Service Man That Sounds Like Tyrone Biggums

Thanks a lot, sir.

Me

Right back at ya, slick.

Customer Service Man That Sounds Like Tyrone Biggums

Can I interest you in one of our landline phone packages today while I got you on the line?

Me

Get cancer of the dick.

Me

Right square in the dick.

Customer Service Man That Sounds Like Tyrone Biggums

*click*

Like some shitty piece of computer software, it seems you can never fully uninstall Cox. Endless verbal confirmation pop-ups, one after another, in an attempt to guilt you into keeping their services is the best you can possibly hope for. All calls to Cox might as well play Sarah Mclachlan music in the background.

"You want to remove our services from your life? WHY DO YOU HATE US?! WE CAN CHANGE! DON'T LEAVE US! BABY COME BACK! WE NEED YOUR MONEY DEEP INSIDE US!"

Google Translate: Woman Self Descriptions

I'm Catholic

I will be pregnant the moment you so much as mention a penis

Everything happens for a reason

I'm a single mother

I'm a teacher

I'm desperate for you to fill me with your butter, so that I may have offspring of my own. Want to move in?

Curvy

Fat

BBW

Ridiculously fat

The first thing guy's notice about me is my eyes

I moonlight as a hot air balloon. Huge.

I have a lot to offer

I don't have a lot to offer. Shhhh. Don't tell anyone.

I'm new in town and looking for someone to show me around

I'm new in town and looking for someone to show me around using their wallet and dick

I love my ____ and wouldn't trade it for the world

I have a ___, and am daft to the point of borderline mental retardation

I'm down to earth and low maintenance

I'm full of crap

I like all (movies/music/television shows/books/foods)

I find opinions to be difficult, and as such, steer clear of them on all levels

I'm spontaneous

I live my life by the tenets outlined in The Jersey Shore

You only live once

I do anal

I'm a nanny for two beautiful children

I have no marketable skills outside of my mastery of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches

I'm not good at describing myself

I can count to potato

I'm looking for someone that believes chivalry isn't dead

I'm looking for a man that will make love to me with a condom on without trying to finger my asshole

Instagranasty

We don't need to have the excruciating daily minutia of your life documented via half-thought-out cell phone photos, wrapped in several layers of indescribably dumb effects. In much the same way that electronic music is for those not musically inclined enough to work an instrument, Instagram is a tool allowing hipsters lacking the creativity and knowledge to substitute a bunch of clicks and whistles in lieu of photos containing real content.

Whatever, man. I was into shittily composed photographs before you and your popular ground-glass tripod camera came on the scene. You've debased the whole thing.

Allow me to walk you through a documented day of the average Instagram user.

You began the day by squeezing into the bathroom of your studio apartment, where you partially shave your scraggly and ridiculous looking beard, leaving a sink full of broken dreams and unkempt hair. You photograph this start to your day as you feel it properly illustrates the juxtaposition between your nonconformity and the fact that your parents said you'd never be able to hold a real job.

Now shaven, but still unshowered, you don your skinny jeans and pile into your free-trade, farm-fresh Smart car, and drive down to your job as a cashier at a local indie music store that sells 8-tracks exclusively, because they're under-appreciated and superior in every measurable way. Along the way you pause to capture a grasshopper on your windshield, which you think captures perfectly the futility and uncertainty of life.

At lunch, you share with the world the majesty that is your sustenance, comprised of piles of tofu hotdogs and hemp french fries (no potato insects were harmed in the making of these, you savage). You feel the need to share your disgusting food pile with the world because, like all vegetarians, you see no point in not eating animals if you can't broadcast that fact to the world at every given opportunity. Plus, you love the way the light reflects of the high fructose corn syrup; it reminds you of Christmas morning.

Several hours into your shift, you begin the ritual ceremony of exercising the tofu demons from your butt. Using your "artistic" skills as a cover for your latent perversions, you try sneaking a few under-stall shots of the man saddled up next to you. Convinced that one of them perfectly embodies your views on corporate America, you post it for all the world to see.

After a full day of slaving away at telling others how incorrect their musical tastes are, you head home. Upon arriving, you begin indulging in what has become your favorite pastime over the past few months: spending all night watching your cat take awful shits stemming from the vegan diet you've forced upon it. Of course, nature is simply too beautiful for you to not sepia tone the shit out of your cat shitting, and share it on the internet.

Sweet Christ, no one cares. Stop attempting to capture the "wonderment" around you.

The inventor of the camera is surely rolling over in his grave. Please consider not desecrating the dead the next time you want to share your quirky surroundings and Family Circus moments.