A Quick Break

I was just introduced to something awesome...

Something you have to see to believe...

Just... Go

Hot Chicks with Douchebags!

What's In a Name?

I understand some certain inevitabilities about life. But really... stereotypes go to far.

I completely understand that my last name is Gunz. It's not an easy one to live with.

But do you really expect that I always carry a firearm? Sure, I've got a cache of weapons at home and a conceal and carry, but those are for legitimate purpose. I have my rights.

But I don't always carry them with me. Or any of them for that matter. It's just not convenient.

And so many buildings have that sign that says I can't. To the guys who think they can, no, you can't. Whether it's a mall, or a store, or an office, it's private property. You're an idiot.

So it's just easier for me not to carry one. Stop asking me.

Trial of Nuance

Ang- "Your Honor, the prosecution contends that the defense is, in fact, a "meanie."

Judge- "Defense, do you have an attorney representing you today?"

Gunz- "No, Your Honor. I am representing myself."

Judge- "And your response to these allegations?"

Gunz- "Your Honor, although the prosecution feigns at contention, I think it's also important to note that the prosecution has had a piece of steel shot through her face. I don't believe the prosecution is qualified to assign such a quality to myself. Also, if you'd refer to my previous case, Jeremy Afterglide vs Spaz the cat, which I represented the defense Pro Bono, Ang is a documented "poopy-head". More recently, it is important to note that she is very sweaty, and may be required by the state to switch to Mitchum brand deodorant."

Judge- "Mr. Gunz, you've certainly done your research."

Gunz- "I believe I have your honor."

Judge- "I rule in favor of Mr. Gunz, and his undeniable logic."

Ang- "Hey that's not fair! He is a "Meanie!" Capital "M" and all!"

Gunz- "That may be so, but this is my blog."



Here's to making my co-worker's girlfriends hate me. Cheers.

Let's talk about this for a second

To me, there is a definition of Mod or Modify:
make partial or minor changes to (something), typically so as to improve it or to make it less extreme.

You can mod a shelf... or your kitchen... or your car (spoilers and body kits don't count as mods unless your car goes faster than 160 miles per hour).

You cannot however, mod yourself. Or at the very least, what you consider "Modding" is fucking retarded, so stop calling it that.

Really, I know when we were all young and we wanted to be unique we could do things that maybe no one else accepted. But it's not unique, you know. It seems like 50% of women have themselves "tramp stamped" and there are a good portion of retards out there with the "barbed-wire bicep" disease.

At least those are concealable. You could live your entire life and never let any one know that you did that.

But sticking shit in your face? Why does that seem like a good idea? How is that individual? I bet your friends did it.

And to all of you out there with industrials, creating larger holes in your face; You know what you are?

You're a Dodge Neon with a soup can and an aluminum spoiler.

Centennial

Our friend Eric the Pirate on "talk like a pirate day":

Dreaming about peeing:

I've never seen one of these that wasn't punched in. The button is below it, you retards:

I beg to differ:

 The Mitchum Ad People Suck:

In Retrospect

An interesting segway of my "childhood", when file sharing maintained a pseudo-legal status (mostly that no one was getting sued), I managed to stay away from television.

Not all of it, obviously I was watching star trek, but I didn't see a single music video for any song between 1995 and 2001. Internet radio stations... or "Shoutcasts" had taken up a majority of my time (because actual file sharing was too tedious over dial up) and a lot of the music really appealed to me.

But what was I missing?

A lot.

Thanks to YouTube, I can go back in to my past and replay all those lost musical moments. Let's just say I'm glad I missed them when I did.

Everyone was retarded.

Seriously... no socially redeeming aspects to any of them.

I'll prove my point. I'm a huge Sting fan, so it pains me to do this.

For the stupid hair alone.

Sincerest Form of Flattery

I love the McFlurry™.

To me, on the market, on any market, there is no more blatant a rip off of another company's developed and successful product. Even beyond the iPod clones.

I was working at McDonald's when they rolled out the McFlurry™, I know what kind of shit they were trying to pull.

Here's how it works, they fill a cup full of their signature ice cream, then they drop some topping on top. Then, they stick a special spoon in to the mix, which clips in to the McFlurry™ machine and is supposedly going to stir your McFlurry™ until it realizes a near Blizzard™ consistency.

But the reality of it is that the person that's making your McFlurry™ doesn't give two shits about how your McFlurry™ tastes because he makes $6.25 an hour... and the only reason he got that is because he's a crew lead (meaning he's the only one of the 10 people they hired over the summer that didn't quit with the coming school year).He held the McFlurry™ in the machine just long enough to make it look like he made an effort. But he didn't. The only thing mixed at the bottom is the ice cream and the little bit of topping the McFlurry™ spoon took to the bottom.

Enjoy your delicious McFlurry™.