Baconfisting

September192009

Small Tears!

(Chris looked up from the pamphlet he was reading and looked at me, his eyes aglow)
Chris: Yo man, have you read about these new things called 'micro-tears?' I dunno what they are, but I'm guessing it's when a midget cries into a cup.
Me: Uh... yea man, I've heard of micro-tears before. Trust me, it's not when a midge...
Chris: Yea, I want some of them. Seriously, where can I get some midget tears?
Me: Well Chris, I'm not sure about midget tear, but probably the best place I know of to get 'micro-tears' is Arby's. Just order anything off the menu, and eat it. That should provide you with plenty of the 'micro-tear' goodness you're looking for.
Chris: How will eating at Arby's make a midget cry?
Me: I never said anything about a midget crying, I said it would without question give you micro-tears.
Chris: (A few days later) Well, you were right about Arby's. And I was wrong about midgets having anything to do with 'micro-tears.' It's totally confusing that they spell that word the same way when it clearly has two meanings. But if you look at it the way I do now, one causes the other. God my asshole hurts.

September182009

September172009

Push It

(…..PUUUUSSSHHHHH IT TO THE LIMIT!!……)

The radio blared. Brian turned to his left and grinned at the newest brother of his fraternity. The poor kid had been hand picked by Brian and Pink to drive them around for a full night. He cranked the radio.

(…..PUUUUSSSHHHHH IT TO THE LIMIT!!……)

Pink was cuddling with a girl in the back-seat when the song came on, but he bolted upright as soon has he heard the first words.

(…..PUUUUSSSHHHHH IT TO THE LIMIT!!……)

“Fuck.” screeched Pink. ”Pull OVER! PULL OVER!!! Stop the car. Stop the car right now butt-fucking now!!”

The pledge flipped out. ”What man? What!!?! WHAT?!!??”

(…..PUUUUSSSHHHHH IT TO THE LIMIT!!……)

Pink got quiet. He nearly whispered the next few words; the pledge barely heard him, a scant 22 inches away.

“This is Brian’s problem song.”

—cue lights—

September162009

Always Looking Up!

Biff: Hi Marty, just wanted to let you know I had a dream about you mother last night.
Marty: What the fuck do you want Biff? Huh? Quit j-ing my bag man, just leave me alone.
Biff: You know Marty, I've been thinking about this script.
Marty: Yea Biff? Why don't you give me back that Almanac, a-hole!
Biff: Well, I think the producers are trying to give everyone who watched it an Oedipal complex.
(Marty begins to get nervous)
Marty: What are you talkin' about Biff? Huh man?
Biff: Well your girlfriend now looks a whole lot like your mom looked when she was your girlfriend's age in the second movie. I mean, you almost made out with her bro. And then you grow up and start banging out a cute broad that looks exactly like she did? Come on. I'm not buying it.
Marty (sweating profusely): Take it back Biff... Take it back. I don't want to have with my mother.
Biff: Plus, your dad was a dork and you could have kicked his ass probably.
(Marty runs off set screaming)
Biff (to the crew): What's up with Michael J Fox?

September152009

It was in 1983 Brian officially became a die-hard Patrick Swayze fan, due to his role in The Outsiders, long before The Swayze had starring roles in majestic films such as Dirty Dancing, Ghost, To Wong Foo Thanks For Everything, Julie Newmar, and Road House.

Of course, the blockbuster films Red Dawn, Youngblood, Black Dog, Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights, George and The Dragon, King Solomon’s Mines, Icon, Keeping Mum, The Fox and the Hound 2, Jump!, Christmas in Wonderland, and Powder Blue did nothing to improve his reputation, but Brian didn’t care.

In the grand scheme of life, Patrick “The Swayze” Swayze and Stephen James Wilford Christian Richard Patrick Samuel Jonathan Tyler Jason Guttenberg were the only two people who (in Brian’s opinion) had ever surpassed what most people call ‘life’ and had transcended into what Brian called ‘actor life.’

Not too many people were sure what he meant by this, however, to make things clearer, he generally began his explanation of the concept with a drinking contest, to ensure his opponent was on the same level of thinking with himself.

Anyways, on Monday September 14th, 2009, at about roughly 9:30 pm (15 minutes after his passing), after a tremendous amount of scotch; Brian decided to get a tattoo to commemorate the passing of The Swayze on his left forearm, inspired by the Chip ‘n’ Dales skit he did on Saturday Night Life with the then portly and still alive Chris Farley, combined with the magical sensibilities that Brian just instinctually thought a centaur possessed.

This was, of course, a few months after the horrendous tattoo he got of David Carridine on his right forearm, but that is another story altogether.

September142009

Tod Dracula

It was awkward growing up as Dracula’s younger brother. I had braces for like 8 years, some of the worst acne you have ever seen (acutaine did nothing for me) and I didn’t get pubic hair until my junior year at University of Chicago. To make matters worse, the day after I turned 18 I wandered into a lady’s restroom by mistake and then had to register as a sex offender.

To say the least, everyone thought that I was a creep. Not to mention the fact that my brother was out every night literally slaying box.

September132009

Cigarettes!

“Seriously man,” I slurred drunkenly, “I’m gonna sit here and have a cigarette with you man… you want one?”

He took the cigarette cautiously, as if I was taunting him and would pull it away at the last moment. He finally took it, and I introduced myself.

“I’m Brian,” he replied before asking me for a light. He took a really deep drag, killing about a quarter of the cigarette in one pull.

“God damn,” he said, exhaling a plume of smoke, “That’s the good shit right there.”

He looked at me, startled, as if he was surprised that I was still there next to him; then started to tell me how I reminded him of his mother before slapping himself in the face and telling me that where he came from people normally had sailboats on their pants.

He started crying and ran behind a dumpster in the parking lot behind the library. I tried to follow, to talk to him and find out what was wrong but instead I thought to myself, “What the fuck do I want to talk to a derelict bum for anyways?”

Instead I went to the local Long John Silver’s for a delicious late night snack of hot fish and even hotter mayonnaise.

September122009

Tom Cruise wishes he could get On Tom Cruise, Scientologist. That guy is straighter than a canvas bag full of rainbows, homosexual men who kiss other homosexual men on the mouth and neck, and kittens.

What a butt-fucking lunatic. Who does this guy think he is?

“Either you’re On Board, or you’re not On Board. OK. But just, if you’re On Board. You’re On Board with The Rest Of US!”

Who would want to be stuck anywhere with a bunch of retards who only want to give you a Stress Test and then ply you with freshly minted books that a science fiction writer created when thinking of ways to cheat the government out of money.

September112009

“Good-day to you sir. I would like to get fifty-six tattoos on my face, and then completely freak out about it later, claiming that I fell asleep before you, a deranged lunatic who may have doped me or hypnotized me stuck a needle with ink into my face, and used me as your sick blank canvas!!” Kimberley Vlaminck at the first two tattoo parlors she visited on June 16th. She later dropped nearly three-fourths of this monologue to varying degrees of success.

September102009