An Open Letter to Steelers Management:

Why you hate pussy?

Thanks for the title dammitboy.

What the !???!!!!!!!

huh?






We get...

... can you say...

Damnit!!!!!!!!!

Don't Eat Meatloaf

nuff said.

...Eating Someones Family

This, by the way, is where all the players spit.

I wonder how that tasted.

Like Dr. Pepper

I'm not a real Doctor.

More of a Doctor like Dr. Pepper is a doctor.

Or Julius Irving was a doctor.

Or Paul Coffey was a doctor.

Speaking of which, if any of you three who read this (and yes, I said three. I'm banking that at least ONE other sheeple is out there. But I digress from my digression...) know of the origins of Paul Coffey being called The Doctor, please let me know.

So anyway, I'm a doktor, but not a real doctor.

You know, the good kind.

Dammit people! Focus! I can't write prescriptions! What good is it being a doctor if you can't do that?

None, I tell you.

Absolutely none.



Sigh!


Anyway. Our story begins at 5:06 AM, Thursday morning. Which means it is 4:51 AM, real people time.

Yes, you geniuses. My clock is set 15 min ahead. Why? Trying to trick myself, thats what.

How often does that happen? Almost never.

Why then, do I keep it like that? If I set it to real time now, I'll forget and be 15 min late.

By the way, I'm watching a show on dinosaurs, with this very cute paleontologist. Which makes me think I should have followed my second true love - dinosaurs. And by extension, my first love as well - cute chics, man!

So, whatever. I wake up super early on Thurs morning. That is my first clue that something isn't right. I feel like I'm wide awake, and I ask myself, "Self. Why am I wide awake this early?".

There is no answer forthcoming.

The next thing I know, it's an hour and a half later. Looks like I wasn't so wide awake after all. So I meander into work, shrug off Sgt Kickass, as usual, and sleepwalk through daily grind. It becomes more and more difficult as I realize that I'm getting sick. Brain isn't functioning very well, tingling balls, throat is bugging me, I'm letting people get away with saying super-stupid things without comment, and I'm losing my desire to be really, really drunk.

Friday I wake up with an awful sore throat. It takes about two hours before I can swallow without hurting. Fever - I sat and had a conversation with myself for about 8 minutes (not my personal best) and I mean really. I sat there and looked at myself and made fun of "Him".

Anyway. Sat I wake up and the same thing is going on. Not only that, I wake up next to myself again. I asked for hallucination head, but my mirror said, "I knew it. You're a fucking homo! Get it together, Man!"

Fuck!

So at this point I realize I need to get myself to a real doctor and get some pills.

I call up my favorite three and get basically the same response from all three.

"Where's my fucking money? You said this was foolproof. You'll die before I write a script for penicillin unless I get my fucking money." and BLAH, BLAH, BLAH.

Now where, I ask you, am I supposed to come up with 40 Large? What do I look like... a doctor?

Fuck them! If they're so smart, why aren't they rocket scientists?!

Lazy pricks.

Alright. Now, I have one other option. I have to go back to the emergency clinic.

Coming to this conclusion was no easy decision. And not without great risk. The last time I was there, Johnny and I wound up making money before the SWAT team was called, much to the chagrin of the employees there. I've been there numerous times, and told never to return every single time.

But I have something different in store for them. This time, I'm NOT wearing a disguise.

So I go there, and surprisingly everything goes well.

Until the doctor arrives. I'll call him... Flaming Dr. Pepper.
Hi! How are you today?

Sick.

Well, take off your pants and lets get started.

What?! ... ahhhhhh alright, I guess. But it's my throa...

Oh, just take them off, you silly. Now lets take your temperature.

LOOK FUCKER! Unless you want me to take YOUR temperature with that thermometer through your eye, you're going to behave yourself, and let me get out of here so I can watch the hockey game.

Oh. My. Dear. I'm so sorry. I sometimes get carried away... Hee, hee, hee!

Cripes. Look. I'm sick.

Dick? Did you say dick! I have in the drawer here...

SICK you fag! Get me meds now or I'm going to take one of your thumbs, and then get a taco!

Oh, my. You sound just like... no. No. NO! It can't be! Not you again! HE...

I quickly put my hand over his mouth and whisper: you will stop screaming one way or the other.

ok, ok. What do you want? You want me to take off my pants?

I don't trust you. Go get another doctor, and don't tell him why.

Well, ok. But I really don't mind taking off my pa...

I give him an ice cold stare.

And keep this in mind, Johnny is outside right now waiting for me. Any funny stuff and he's coming in.

So the new Doc comes in. He's cool. We exchange pleasantries, he checks my throat and leaves.

For a while.

I was starting to get nervous, and looking around for something I could bash someone over the head with should it come to that when the doctor comes back in.

You're throat looks painful. I'm going to give you a script for antibiotics and codeine for the pain.

"YES!" I'm screaming in my head, doing the original touchdown dance.

Take all of the antibiotics even if you feel better. And with the codeine, you can get that filled if you want...

heh, heh.

... right. Or you can flush them if you don't need them...

heh, heh, heh.

...uhhh, right. well, you can...

I ran right out of there and to the pharmacy.

I stand in line, salivating, already making my plans for the evening.

I get to the pharmacist, and I see not one, not two, but three pictures of me up there in various disguises with a sign saying "only essential drugs".

Apparently the pharmacist notices those like normal people notice those Wanted posters in the post office.

I get to the man and start talking.

"So what would you take with these?"

"Shut up", my brain is telling me.

I'm sorry. What?

What would you take?

"SHUT! UP!"

I don't know what you mean.

You know, what kind of fish goes well with this wine?

YOU FUCKING IDIOT! STOP SPEAKING! RIGHT NOW!

Sir. Surely you aren...

Look man. I got these drugs legally. All I want to know is what should I drink with these pills?

THAT'S IT! YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN. I'M OUT OF HERE.

what?

What? Why did you just ask me what? It doesn't matter. Look, I'm not giving you the codeine.

My brain apparently did leave me, because the next thing I know I'm lying face down in a puddle in the parking lot, with bloody knuckles and forehead, an empty wallet, and the distinct feeling I've just been tazed.

I check my pockets. One script. No codeine.

Next time, I think I'll wait until I have the chicken in hand before breaking its neck...

I think that's how it goes.

Twice Your Age, and He'll Eat Your Family

For Fuck's Sake!

I wouldn't waste my time with this crap, I haven't read or watched it. I only looked at the headline:

check out CNN.com for 60 is the new sexy

No.

I don't care what you have to say. I don't care how you justify this...


NO!


no. no it isn't. You know who says this: people who are, or about to turn 60. That's it.
Imagine, as the baby boomers hit 90.

90 is the new 30.

"I'm just now discovering how sexy I really am. My breasts. My arms. My legs. I just love the way I look, and there's no extra sloppiness.", says Gurdie Winthrop, 91. "All those drugs I took never had an effect on MY brain". She goes on to say, "And I have a wonderful selection of toys dating back to the 60's."

Sweet, creepin crumbly snatchdust! What the...

IT'S A MYSTERY!

http://nonsenserock.blogspot.com/

So Long, Fuckhole III

No, he ain't dead.


But his career is.

August 3, 1995.

"You have a guy like Maio Lemieux, who hasn't played in a couple of years. He's been great over the period of years he had been playing. But I think if it was an African-American there, still geting paid and not performing and not being able to play, I think it would have been a big issue."

Fair enough. Lets forget, for a moment about all the ownership issues and the two comebacks. It was after all, 1995.

He had, however, taken the strike-shortened year off because of his battle with cancer (where he STILL won the scoring title.)

Let us compare, shall we?

Mario Lemieux

NHL Records
NHL single-season record for shorthanded goals (13 in 1988-89)
NHL record for most goals in one period (4, 26 January 1997, shares record)
NHL record for longest goal-scoring streak (12 games)
NHL All-Star Game record for career goals (13, shares record)
NHL All-Star Game record for goals in a single-game (4 in 1990, shares record)
NHL All-Star Game record for points in a single-game (6 in 1988)
NHL playoff record for goals in a single period (4, shares record)
NHL playoff record for goals in a single game (5, shares record)
NHL playoff record for points in a single period (4, shares record)
Pittsburgh Penguins team record for career games played (915)
Pittsburgh Penguins team record for career goals (690)
Pittsburgh Penguins team record for career assists (1033)
Pittsburgh Penguins team record for career points (1723)
Pittsburgh Penguins single-season record for goals (85 in 1988-89)
Pittsburgh Penguins single-season record for assists (114 in 1988-89)
Pittsburgh Penguins single-season record for points (199 in 1988-89)
Pittsburgh Penguins single-game record for goals (5, three occasions)
Shares Pittsburgh Penguins single-game record for assists (6, three occasions)
Pittsburgh Penguins single-game record for points (8, two occasions)
Only player in NHL history to score a goal in each of the five different ways possible in one game (even-strength, power-play, shorthanded, penalty shot, and empty-net) (December 31, 1988 against the New Jersey Devils)

Awards
He won the NHL rookie of the year award, six Art Ross Trophies, the NHL's single-season points award, and his number, 66, has been retired by the Pittsburgh Penguins.
Hart Memorial Trophy (League MVP)- 1988, 1993, 1996
Art Ross Trophy (Scoring Champion)- 1988, 1989, 1992, 1993, 1996, 1997
Conn Smythe Trophy (Playoff MVP)- 1991, 1992
Lester B. Pearson Award (MVP voted on by peers)- 1986, 1988, 1993, 1996
NHL Plus/Minus Award - 1993
Calder Memorial Trophy (Rookie of the Year)- 1985
Chrysler-Dodge/NHL Performer of the Year -1985, 1986, 1987
Lester Patrick Trophy (Contribution to Hockey - USA)- 2000
Bill Masterton Trophy (Sportsmanship and Dedication to Hocky) (Can win only once in career)- 1993
NHL All-Star Game MVP - 1985, 1989, 1999
NHL First All-Star Team - 1988, 1989, 1993, 1996, 1997
NHL Second All-Star Team - 1986, 1987, 1992, 2001
NHL All-Rookie Team - 1985
Lou Marsh Trophy - 1993
In 1998, he was ranked number 4 on The Hockey News' list of the 100 Greatest Hockey

50/50 (50 goals in teams first 50 games) (one of five players.)

Beat cancer in the middle of a season and STILL won the scoring title.

Two Stanley Cups

Eric Green

ProBowl: 1995 (as alternate), 1996

6 game suspension for violation of league's substance abuse policy

1 rap video.

1 allegation of racism by the "Pittsburgh media".

Nobody blames you, I'm sure you meant well. You were just keeping it real. We miss you Eric.

Hell Yeah!

KDKA Source: Arena Deal Is Done

They'd better not be playin' wit my 'motions!

So Long, Fuckholes II

'Nuff said

Submitted For Your Approval, Johnny St. Claire:

Please, oh please change it so that comments can be left anonymously. It's too hard!

Boo Hoo, Whaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!