I wrote a hit play

welcome to laguna beach, bitch

another season, yippe! I haven't been this excited since I was informed jessica simpson would be attending my friend's wedding last year.

now that I have confirmed the ages of the 3 main female characters on the show I can comment on their hotness without fear of being thrown in the slammer or having to register as a sex offender.

in terms of hotness:

1. kristin
hot, hot, hot. even her imperfections -- those pockmarks to the right side of her mouth -- make her even more beautiful. sexy. she says she's "dating" matt leinart. leinart says he was nailing some hotass high school chick every once in a while. semantics is such a bitch.

2. l.c.
she really does it for me. because is the seductive gaze she constantly wastes on stephen. that dumb fuck blows her off to go talk to kristin, who really could give a shit for the chode. surely one of the reasons I keep watching is because I want to see stephen get eaten by a great white shark while he is surfing. seriously, what a little conflicted bitch that dude is.

3. lo
gorgeous and totally adorable. she strikes me as a chick would be completely faithful and devoted, surprised she is still single. what a cosmic shame. if I had to pick a girl from that show to marry I would pick her 69 times out of 69.

on another note, why did they have to pick brunettes for the show that looked like dehydrated dog turds compared to the blondes? I refuse to believe there aren't any hot brunettes in laguna.

I realize this show is pretty much crap but I have accepted the fact that is the only type of tv I enjoy watching.

Posted by Stan at 7/27/2005 | Permalink

sometimes I'm too nice...

so this weekend I got:

my achille's heel bruised by a fat bitch motoring around the store in a scooter. that's what I get for going to fiesta. I didn't know that not only would I have to talk mexican (yes, it is different than spanish which educated people speak), but I have to wear wolverine work boots to shop there. fuckin' kids running around the entire place, stepping on my flip flopped toes.

hit on by this fat chick at a bar. she invited me out to eat. I kept saying "no". she kept saying "yes". until I finally had to say "what part of "no"? don't you understand? how about FUCK NO!". and then she went on to tell me about how great of a match geminis (my zodiac sign) and libras were. I don't give a shit about horoscopes. the only good thing horoscope pages are for is to wad them up and start charcoal fires with.

oh, and I didn't go to austin this weekend.

the end

Posted by Stan at 7/25/2005 | Permalink

stupid people award...

if I was magically given the awesome responsibility of awarding the "award to the stupidest people of the year" I would have to purchase an entire trophy making company so I can make enough statues to give to those fat fucks that ride the electronic carts in the store.

I understand that there is a need and a necessity for them.

what I don't understand is that every fat ass is hopping onto these and driving them around the store. is that why they are being provided? for you to motor around in, porky?

maybe I am way off base here. if someone has a medical problem or disability, shouldn't they be getting one through their doctor? just who are these people who can't qualify for one, but still snag them up at the store?

I have noticed some things about them:

in their 30s or 40s and a bonified fat fuck. they can walk, because the soles of their shoes are usually smashed paper thin. I used to think that these people were taking the shopping scooters away from those who were in actual need of them, but then I came to the profound conclusion that those who actually needed them...already owned one.

my guess is that these stores plant these at their front doors to draw in the fat asses who will expectantly buy up all of their got damn (you are supposed to pronounce that like craig's dad on "friday) food. they might just be gimmicky devices introduced for obvious profit.

just like those same stores stocking the cashier lines with horoscopes, candy, sodas and bullshit tabloids and dolt maganizes. they are there for the fat lonely bitches who constantly bitch about the lack of boyfriends in their lives and seek validation through generic horoscope predictions and believing if they eat "fat-free/low cholesterol/diet/splenda" ladden items they will actually shed pounds instead of *gasp* working out. instead of waiting for prince charming, how about you go out there and join a gym, watch what you eat, take care of your skin and body, take something from those shittyass maganizes and learn how to fucking dress? then maybe, just maybe, you might attract the attention of a man, not a boy. and also not waste your drunkass time hitting on me at the bar. do I have to wear a "no fat chicks" t-shirt to make my point?

but I digress...back to my fat lazy people rant:

I still think that someone who is young and fat is pathetic for sitting down in one of these. you just might lose some weight by...I don't know...fuckin' walking instead of sitting on your sweaty fat ass, shopping for more food than you obviously need.

if you really needed one of those, I'm sure there is a social assistance program out there that would provide one for you. but the real reason why your doctor won't prescribe one for you is because he wants you to fuckin' walk and increase your pulse a little.

and those seats are designed way too small for the people who mostly use them. could it by that they are meant for the elderly? if I owed a store or one of those cart making outfit I would offer two models for stores: one free-roaming type really small, like for the elderly. the other, the hawg, would be big and run on tracks confined to the produce section, so fat people have to eat healthy

Posted by Stan at 7/24/2005 | Permalink

as tony montana would say...

cock-ah-roashes

every once and a while, I'll see a cockroach lying on its back with its legs flailing. unable to right himself, he spins about as I watch and wonder how he got this way.

usually its a hardwood or concrete surface so my best guess is that it was crawling too fast and had an accident. maybe too much sugar and it got dizzy while scuttling across the floor and it flipped over as it crossed a crevasse.

or maybe the ac clicked on and created a sudden windshear, like the kind that causes planes to crash.

what is more intriguing is why can't he flip over and scuttle away? christ, these guys usually manuever around like the mars rover on crystal meth.

so as I bend down to ask the little guy what happened, my foot accidently crushes him, and now I'm left with this riddle for ages.

"mr. cockroach, what caused you to trip, lose your balance and roll over like an suv?"

Posted by Stan at 7/21/2005 | Permalink

observations on why women suck...

they hold up lines at the store. some blame them using credit cards, bullshit. the problem really is women, not plastic. women invariably wait to retrieve their card from their bloated purses until the last possible second, and then fumble around trying to punch in codes with their long fingernails.

women also will not look up at the menu at a fast food place until they actually approach the register. the rest of the time they are talking.

Posted by Stan at 7/20/2005 | Permalink

and they say kids say the darnest things...

if there was such a similar show for old people and they were looking for contestants to film a pilot my first guess would be the dumb bitch who stood in front of me at the post office and can't spell her own name and thinks she's going to retire in, now get this, pepsicola, fl. "you know, it just got hit by a hurricane" she said. "it is in the panhandle" she added. "yep, pepsicola. they have a nice beach" I replied as I tried not to permanently stamp my tongue with my molar impression.

Posted by Stan at 7/13/2005 | Permalink

sleep is at a premium

congrats to the new parents meredith and thomas on the birth of their firstborn, thomas junior. mother and baby are doing great...dad is "scared shitless"

Posted by Stan at 7/13/2005 | Permalink

corporate douches

so I get an aim from a friend reflecting her frustration with corporate lingo. she explains that when her boss wants a discussion to get more indepth on a subject, he says "lets double-click on that".

if I ever heard someone say "double-click on that" I may just have to double-click him. in the nuts.

I was making fun of the fact that ridiculous corporate lingo is the bane of her daily grind. she asked for my input, I suggested she come up with her own bullshit corporate lingo. something like:

"hey that mark sure is good at douching out a positive return, isn't he?"

at least that's what I would do. scratch that, knowing me you know I would pull out some playahtastic antics. kick it up another notch.

I'm thinking ghetto corporate lingo would be kind of fun.

instead of "let's double-click this" say "let's get up on that bitch."

instead of saying, "I pinged you yesterday but you weren't there" say "whatchu want, niggah?"

instead of saying, "think outside of the box" say "I don't give a fuck what you do! bitch, you betta have my shit when I ax fo' it, or I'ma stick my foot up yo' ass."

instead of saying, "we have to take a proactive approach in developing and implementing core solutions by utilizing our synergy and knowledge base" say "get to work, muthafuckas!"

instead of saying, "have we located the salesladies from [random generic company] and have we confirmed our dinner meeting?" say "so was up with them hos tonight?"

yes, this is a chapelle skit in the making

Posted by Stan at 7/12/2005 | Permalink

vintage jackpot

looking around my friend's house last night, I came across a sweet pair of plaid pants. I took instant possession of them. these pants are so badass, they'd make andre 3000 want to slap his taylor.

Posted by Stan at 7/05/2005 | Permalink