Archive for October, 2011

October 31, 2011

2011’s Least Popular Halloween Costumes

  • Rocky Dennis was named People's Sexiest-On-The-Inside Man Alive in 1985.

    Rocky Dennis from Mask

  • Octomom’s placenta
  • Tom from MySpace
  • Any costume you have to buy
  • Obese, bacon-intoxicated Ghandi
  • Gas station marquee from the future
  • Andy Rooney’s pubescent bed sheets from 1923
  • Freshly fucked couch

CONTRIBUTORS: Andrew Hicks, Paul Lao, Probably Matt Linville, Jessica Stimson, Eve Ventrella and Woo
EDITED BY
Andrew Hicks

October 29, 2011

Pop Music That Sucks: “I’m Yours”

by JUSTIN CROUCH
edited by ANDREW HICKS

Jason Mraz never goes anywhere without his guitar, his plain white T, his hat and his facial hair.

VOLUME 1: JASON MRAZ – “I’m Yours”

I get it. This is a great summer song, by which I mean it’s got that Look At the Quasi-Homeless Man Strumming His Acoustic Guitar On the Beach-type vibe to it. It fits Mraz’s personality perfectly, in other words.

The lyrics to this shit-gem don’t make much sense. Contradictions are everywhere. If “nothing’s gonna stop you but divine intervention,” Jason, then why do you “reckon it’s again your turn”? YOU DON’T WAIT FOR YOUR FUCKING TURN IF YOU’RE DEAD SET ON DOING SOMETHING, fuckwad. Another thing, Mraz: if you ‘won’t hesitate no more,’ then WHY for the love of Jesus Jones do you sing the song SO GODDAMN SLOW?! Keep in mind, people, these contradictions are just from the first verse.

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October 28, 2011

Cardinals World Series Memories

by ANDREW HICKS

David Freese ties the game for the eighth time in Game 6 of the 2011 World Series.

I was 4 when the Cardinals won the World Series in 1982. I have one vague memory of being babysat by my grandma while my mom and grandpa were at the game. We spent all nine innings trying to spot them in the audience shots.

When the Cardinals played seven games against the Royals in the ’85 World Series, I was 7. I have spotty, nonspecific memories of that matchup. I barely remember the infamous blown Don Denkinger call at first base in Game 6 and the drama that ensued when Denkinger was home plate umpire for Game 7. Checked out some Wikipedia just now. Turns out that, after Denkinger ejected pitcher Joaquin Andujar and manager Whitey Herzog were from Game 7, Andujar “smashed a toilet in the Cardinals’ clubhouse.” Herzog smashed a dozen White Castle sliders.

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October 26, 2011

A Hairy Situation

by LOLA TUCKER
edited by TONY FYLER

Woman with a nose-hair remover, about to stick it up her nose.

Note to self: only ever stick one battery-operated personal device up your nose.

So I woke up in a wonderful mood this morning. Bounced out of bed, despite a rather restless night. Cleaned up the house, fed all the critters and hopped in the shower. After washing my hair and exfoliating enough to take off several layers of skin, wrinkles and dry patches, I headed to the mirror for my daily survey of the personal “real estate.”

As I turned on my overhead light, which is brighter than a solar eclipse, I leaned over to see if any new lines had appeared while I was off in La La Land. Nope, not a one. We’re off to a good start. I leaned in closer…

What the hell is that???

Closer…Closer…

Oh my God, it’s a freaking NOSE HAIR!

I started to hyperventilate.

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October 22, 2011

Auction War Storage Hunters

by ERTEL GRAY
with ANDREW HICKS

”]I am an addict. Step One is admitting you have a problem, and that’s why I’m here. I’ve recently become extremely obsessed with the ever-expanding glut of TV shows about storage unit auctions. You know, those C-level reality shows where people haggle over one-of-a-kind items with pawn shop owners, and/or people rummage around in dilapidated barns and garages, finding rusted-out treasures that I’m told are high-dollar items.

A 19th-century steam-powered vibrator? $300. Thomas Jefferson’s giant granite dangling-cross earring, yanked from Mount Rushmore after fierce protests from Quakers? Four thousand bucks all day. A rare acetate demo of John and Yoko’s blistering 22-minute version of “I’m Henry the VIII, I Am”? Actually, there are 2 million copies of THAT garbage, but I’d still pay at least three grand for the chance to own it.

This is all my fault. I’m addicted to junk. For those who remain uninitiated to shows like “Storage Wars” and “Auction Hunters,” the premise is this — every day, thousands of unclaimed storage lockers are put up for auction. Bidding is fierce, and rivalries develop instantaneously over these storage lockers, which just might be chock-full of rarities and untold riches. It’s the ultimate in Ponzi* schemes, the rule being “buy low, sell high.”

Oh sure, there’s storage units that turn out to be a bust. Apparently, SOME people don’t feel that a damp, 8′ x 10′ concrete storage locker is the best place to keep their priceless copies of Action Comics #1 and miscellaneous Aztec artifacts. But the rule of thumb in the “Storage Wars” world is, if something has intrinsic value, you put it in a glorified carport and lock that shit up with a high-school-locker Master Lock. Then forget you owe $400 for the past four months’ rent and lose your padlocked carport altogether.

Meanwhile, think of how many actual archaeologists have given up scouring the actual ruins of some long-forgotten city whose name Indiana Jones couldn’t even pronounce correctly. Honestly, you can’t blame them. Spending months at a time in some dense jungle, amid the constant threat of attack by large primates and bot flies that lay eggs in open wounds — not to mention the oppressive “jungle stench” — doesn’t help morale. Especially after you’ve spent several months with a Maybelline rouge brush, carefully and intently brushing the faint traces of dirt, layer by layer, from a couple of shards of clay pottery. And it’s Christmas Day.

Take any archaeologist who’s been inspired to unlock the mysteries of Indy movies past, and ask that archaeologist if he or she now feels cheated for having taken that career path, and I’m almost positive the answer will be a resounding FUCK YEAH. (“I’ve been out here in the jungles of Costa Rica for four MONTHS now, and not ONE fucking Nazi! No crystal skulls!  It’s bullshit!”)

What the budding archaeologist fails to realize when he sets out on an Indy mission is that most of the good treasure has already been looted and sold on the black market. Now it’s somewhere in an 8 x 10 storage shed that’s in default of payment, waiting for some hulking behemoth of a man with head tattoos and Oakley shades to slowly bid it up to roughly $1,200 American.

So, in short, to any and all of you potential treasure seekers out there who might be reading this, give up dreams of Custer’s Gold. Put away the maps of Oak Island, and don’t even THINK about going near Fort Knox.

Bid on a storage unit.

You may end up with Lincoln’s personal stash of bukkake tintypes. Or, you might just end up with a fuck-ton of Tupperware. Either way, you played the game.

*Given our fascination with combining celebrity couple names, I can only conclude that — somewhere along the line — Potsi Webber and Arthur Fonzarelli, both of “Happy Days,” had a brief, albeit torrid sexual affair. The offspring, carried in Potsi’s butt for three trimesters, was the now-famous word Ponzi.

October 21, 2011

This Week in J.Miz, Volume 14

by J.MIZ
edited by ANDREW HICKS

Donkey Kong wizard Billy Mitchell can grab J.Miz's bananas anytime, or roll barrels at J.Miz, or climb ladders, or whatever the hell you did in Donkey Kong.

  • Integrity is SO important to me, I refuse to make exceptions. Well, I make an exception for one thing and one thing only: double standards.
  • As I am reconnecting with my Catholic roots, I won’t be dressed as a typical slut for Halloween. Instead, I’m going as an altar boy.
  • Creative people with high IQs are often told that they’re insane and need meds. I think we just need better doctors.
  • Even as a young girl, I knew I could do WHATEVER I put my mouth to.
  • I think the kids on the short bus had it all figured out. I bet THEY never had to write a term paper on The Taming of the Shrew.
  • It’s totally bonkers when I’m out with my boyfriend, and I decide to duck into a bathroom and have spontaneous sex, and then he walks in on it.
  • Jesus loves you more when you keep it real.
  • I hate men who play games. Except for Billy Mitchell. I fucking LOVE him!
  • The bathroom in this Argentinian grill is so dark, I’m not sure if I sat on a toilet or a glory hole.
  • My dentist told me I wasn’t flossing enough, so I bought dubs. He thought I was retarded! But it turns out I’m racist. Because he’s black.
  • J.Miz doesn’t care about bitch-ass people.
  • Jesus made me miss the early train today so I could ride the one with the HOT-ASS conductor. #WearingSkirtOnTheVibratingMetraRailFTW #Ahhhhhhhhhhh
  • Though life is full of scary people, I do not fear necrophiliacs.
  • Dear Suburbs: Yeah. We’re done. kthxbai
  • I was just given the day off at the last minute. My afternoon will now be filled with naps and grilled cheeses. Oh yes, my friends. o.h.y.e.s.
  • My comforter brings all the kittehs to the bed. And they’re like, “It’s betta than yours!”
  • Watched a YouTube video posted by user “golum0734.” I bet THAT guy gets SHIT-TONS of pussy.
  • I prefer that my sleep be man-made.
  • It seems like the day after I have sex, I’m COVERED in bruises. But I think my boyfriend said it best: “Well then stop fighting back, bitch!”
  • In which religious text and on what day did God say, “Let there be religion”? And was that before or after the dinosaurs were on the ark?
  • Here’s a bit of an unknown fact: cats.love.ham. And BOY do they HATE rape!
  • I wish anxiety would manifest in ways other than panic attacks. For instance, an urge to start a freestyle rap battle. That way you’d stave off the attack AND get mad street cred.
  • You’re NEVER too old for sprinkles.
  • Dear Coworker With The Shit Attitude, Like You Hate Your Job: I know about a dozen-plus people who would love ANY JOB! Maybe our boss keeps me working a lot a shifts because I’m a pleasant person who contributes, smiles and acts as if I’m not a miserable fuck. He tells me when to come here, and I come. You’re the ONLY reason your shifts are cut or you get stuck on bitch duty. Buck up, man. You’re only fucking yourself. KTHXBAI

EDITOR’S NOTE: J.Miz has been with WNF since Day One, and we think she’s damn hilarious. Do yourself a favor and follow @JMiz8 on Twitter. –AH

October 19, 2011

Get The Fuck Off Wall Street!

by TONY FYLER
edited by ANDREW HICKS

You want to hit corporations where it hurts? Make your own protest signs instead of buying the protest signs sold at Walmart.

Let’s be absolutely clear on one point – non-violent direct action is a truly kickass idea. It’s changed the world time and time and time again. It’s effective, it’s community-building and, if you do it right, it has the double-edged effect of making the forces of oppression absolutely livid while also ensuring they have no effective way of dealing with their lividity.

In essence, the key to great non-violent direct action is not so much using your opponent’s strength against him as it is making him so furious his head explodes, while you sing “Kumbayah” and eat quiche.
But let’s be clear about one other point, while we’re here. Non-violent direct passivity is just plain dull.

There seems to be a strain of really earnest hippie thinking at work in 21st century protest that makes me think the people doing the protesting haven’t actually read the manual. I mean, everything’s “plug and play” these days, so why bother with a manual, right? Your iProtest should just… work.

It’s as if these neo-hippies have seen pictures of protests from days gone by, and they think just showing up is pretty much enough to topple governments. Or change laws. Or suddenly make shitty people be just a smidgen less shitty to everybody who isn’t them.

Point of order: If the Boston Tea Party had been run in this new manner, the revolutionaries would have arrived, chanted their slogans about taxation and representation and yadda yadda yadda, and been shot stone dead, leaving the British to get on with their busy day of evil fuckery.

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October 18, 2011

How To Get Fired From a Restaurant

by ANDREW HICKS

If you can name the movie this image comes from, chances are you've spent some time sitting at home watching TBS after being fired from a restaurant.

1. Confront Customer About Bad Tip
I work in semi-fine dining. A couple weeks ago, a server who had transferred into our store from out of town — a dude in his late 30s who reminded me of an unfunny Christopher Walken — waited on a couple whose bill totaled $123.65 or some shit. The gentleman paid Walken 130 bucks cash, told him to keep the change. Unfunny Chris, upon noticing the customer’s 5.3 percent tip, went boltin’ like Michael up to the entry vestibule, where he caught up with the couple. Unfunny Chris, by the way, is like 5’10”. This customer was like 6’5″. And big. And black.

And, during the moment where — in theory — he’s supposed to feel all embarrassed and cheap over his awful tip, this customer EXPLODES with rage and booming obscenities. Walken tries to come back with some vocal and body language intimidation of his own, but instead, in a matter of minutes, he gets slowly cornered by this dude, walked backwards in tiny steps from the front door to the side entrance to the back of house. A half-dozen or so guests sitting at the bar all quickly pay their tabs and leave. Meanwhile, the disgraced customer screams on: “This is bullshit! I thought I was in [name of rich neighborhood]! I’ve worked in restaurants for 20 years! Here, punk ass, here’s 20 more bucks. Is THAT a good tip?!” (Answer: yes.)

The manager on duty quietly slips the general manager’s business card to the enraged customer, tells him he knows his boss will make the situation right for him. Unfunny Christopher Walken fumes off, does his sidework, cashes out, tells everyone he’ll see them tomorrow and leaves. No, Chris, we will not see you tomorrow. We will never see you again.

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October 14, 2011

Things That Won’t (Necessarily) Get You Fired From a Restaurant

by ANDREW HICKS

Every restaurant has its very own Server Who Hates Every Customer.

Depending on where you work, you’ll have a strong chance of keeping your restaurant job after doing any of the following:

  • Being a homeless dishwasher who bathes yourself in the guest men’s room. Hand soap costs mysteriously shoot through the roof, yet you still smell like straight B.O. and urinal cakes.
  • Tossing and serving a house salad that contains a half-smoked Black-N-Mild which was tucked behind your ear.
  • Tossing and serving a house salad that contains a used latex glove.
  • Tossing and serving a house salad that contains a rotted-out (presumably Mexican migrant) tooth.
  • Making a roast beef to go and having your bloody Band-Aid come off somewhere in the sandwich.
  • Being under the influence of twice your dosage of half a dozen prescription pills. Every shift.
  • Being a busboy, cleaning up a booth that has just held a breastfeeding mother, then announcing loudly to a server across the room (during the lunch rush), “Dude, there’s breastmilk all OVER this booth bench!”
October 13, 2011

Woo Stands Erect In Solidarity With Occupy Wall Street

by CHRISTOPHER WOO

October 12, 2011

My 5 Most Abused Forms of Alcohol

by ANDREW HICKS

I used to drink so much the labels looked like they were on backward.

Next week, it’ll be a year since I quit drinking. Though I am extremely grateful and proud that I’ve been able to do it, I feel like it might not be commonly known to the people in my life that I used to drink a LOT. This is a list of the top five alcoholic substances I abused during my decade of hardcore drinking.

1. BEER
To give you just a tiny idea of how much beer I used to drink, this is what my Mondays were like 9 months out of the year: Wake up around 4 pm, hungover/still drunk from the night before. Eat about ten bucks worth of Panera. Go to my men’s bowling league, where the other members of Team Ramrod and I would take turns buying pitchers of Bud Light for the next three hours. Then, it was off to the shithole bar up the street for three more hours of cheap draft beer, jukebox songs, shuffleboard games and loud, obnoxious laughter. Then we’d go to the casino, where I’d drink more draft beer until the bar closed at 3. This was something like two gallons of beer every Monday. And I didn’t take the rest of the week off or anything.


2. CHEAP WHITE WINE

Wine didn’t really enter the picture until my wife got pregnant with my oldest child. I took that old doctor’s cliche about, “One glass of wine won’t hurt you,” and ran with it. I’d buy the magnum-size bottles of chardonnay or sauvignon blanc — cheap stuff like Liberty Creek, Crane Lake, Turning Leaf and other brands that sound like names of bad apartment complexes.

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October 10, 2011

Haiku News, 10 October 2011

by CHRISTOPHER WOO

—–

US Military Drones Infected With Mysterious Computer Virus

This is no surprise
to those of us who know what
drones do after dark.

—–

Paul McCartney, Nancy Shevell wed in London

Another marriage?
Lets hope that this one has
a leg to stand on.

—–

Zsa Zsa Gabor undergoes stomach surgery

Wait a damn minute.
You mean to tell me that this
bitch is still alive?

—–

Steve Jobs’ pancreatic cancer may have been diagnosed late

Diagnosed too late?
The real tragedy is that
there’s no app for that.

—–

How Obama’s data-crunching prowess may get him re-elected

Vote for Obama!
Why? It is simple really.
This MoFo knows math!

October 6, 2011

Lesser-Known 2012 Presidential Candidates

Editing and artwork by CHRISTOPHER WOO

—–

—–

Contributors: T. Allan Christopher, Michelle Dee, Andrew J. Hicks

October 4, 2011

Throw Pillows A-Go-Go

by LOLA TUCKER
edited by TONY FYLER

bed piled high with throw pillows

Look - throw pillows. Purrrrrdy...


It is an ongoing battle in the Tucker household.

I’d like a bedroom that speaks to my romantic side, with deep plush carpeting that doesn’t smell like dog, and just the right mood lighting to always make me look 15 years younger. I want a vanity where I can sit and blow dry my hair like some middle-aged Rapunzel, then put on my 10 pounds of makeup. And, as the centerpiece of my fabulous bedroom, I want a bed that looks like a big marshmallow, complete with about 20 throw pillows.

My husband Bill isn’t really on board with this idea. On more than one occasion, the conversation has gone like this…

BILL: Can you please explain to me why all of these little pillows are on the bed?
ME: They’re for decoration. They are shams and throw pillows.
BILL: So I can’t lay on them?
ME: No, they are not for your head.
BILL: Okay, I give up, then why in hell are they on my bed?
ME: So the bed looks pretty.
BILL: That is the dumbest thing I ever heard. Let’s get rid of them.
ME: We can’t. They cost a fortune, and I love them.
BILL: But you can’t do anything with them. They are completely useless.
ME: I don’t care, they make me happy. Now get your fucking hands off the throw pillows.

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October 3, 2011

Haiku News, 3 October 2011

by CHRISTOPHER WOO

—–

California prevents ban on male circumcision

Nothing to fear here.
You are free as a bee to
chop off your cock sock.

—–

Suspicious package probed on Biden brother’s road

Suspicious package?
Ha! Is that a euphemism?
Probe this here package!

—–

Battlefield 3 Beta Impressions

Ooh, very shiny.
Shoot people and cuss on chat.
Please pass the Cheetos.

—–

Kanye West’s Fashion Show ‘Monumental,’ Ciara Says

‘Imma’ let you finish,
But seriously Kanye,
you make clothing now?

—–

Will Earth Be Struck By Massive Asteroid? Probably Not

Probably not, huh?
This news is as useless as
this fucking Haiku.

—–

Dead bee mystery has state officials buzzing

Buzzing? Are you for real?
Bee’s and Buzzing. Ha ha ha!
See what you did there!

—–

Occupy Wall Street Day 13, October 2, 2011

Grab your damn pitch-fork,
And fire up the propane grill.
Time to eat the rich.