Tag: Alternative Comedy

Absurdia Menu InTro: Meet Our World Class Staff (Head Executive Chef & Sommelier)

Our Head Exclusive Executive Chef is The World Renowned Chef Jumalallinen Syo known around the Globe for His Innovative and Unconventional Cooking Style.

Syo was born on July 22, 1929 in London England Considered The Culinary Capital of The Northern Hemisphere, and is famed for being the most Important City in The World for Restaurants.

Syo’s Father Chef Guihart Guildersleeve Syo was the number one sought  after Chefs of His Time having earned 47 Michelin Stars over the course of His 47 year Career in The Culinary Arts.

    

Growing Up Syo was only permitted to Read Cook Books, and Traveled Extensively with His Father during His formidable years Studying, Learning, practicing, and honeing His Culinary Craft.

In His Travels Syo experienced The Global Palate, and upon returning Home to England opened His first Restaurant the now Legendary La Hedoniste at the tender age of 18. La Hedoniste (French for Hedonist)  Modeled itself Aesthetically after The Great Banquets of Ancient Egypt,Grease, and Rome with a truly decadent Menu to Match the Ambiance.

    

In the following Years Syo went on to Winning The Following:

The Skanji Od Kuhanja Ward (1939)  The German’s Billig Isst Competition (1942), The Chef of Chefs Contest Title (1950), The Annual Foodie Award (1999-present),  Mongolia’s Minii Iljig Idekh Grand Master Championship held Only Once in a Decade (1980) , The Independent Press Fuck Guy Fieri Award (2015-Present), and the Prestigious Oral Academy’s Ooh La-La Grant for Culinary Creativity (2012).

Syo joined The Absurdia 24 hours after it opened in 1999, and along with His Sous Chef and (4th Cousin Removed) Sir. Chauncey Wellington has been blowing the minds of Food Critics, Fanatics, and Professionals for the past Decadent Decade Elevating Culinary Cuisine to a New Level of Palatable Perfection.

Our Exceptional Sommelier Bebado Iezersana was Born April 1, 1919 at The Highly Revered Pijak VinYard which is considered by Those in the know as The Finest Vineyard in Finland.

As a Child Growing Up Bebado’s Father Afengi Iezersana only allowed Him to Eat the Various Types of Wine Making Grapes. At the young age of 9 Bebado was given His first Glass of Wine a  PIAT Les Boudots 1928 (a Bottle of PIAT Les Boudots runs for 474,000 Euros or Over $500,000 U.S. in Today’s Market.)

At the age of 9 Bebado attended The Elite French Vin Blanc Academy where he spent the next 10 years intensively studying the Various Grapes used in the making of White Wine (such as The Sauvignon, Chardonnay, and Riesling) in excruciating  depth and detail.

Once His 10 year Tutelage ended, Bebado now 19 traveled to the remote Romanum Island,Chuuk, Micronesia to take a Decade long Internship with the reclusive “Wizard of Red Wine” Pierre La Rouge.

Having Mastered all Knowledge of Red Wine making Grapes such as the Merlot or Cabernet Sauvignon for example by age 29 once again Bebado packed up His meager belongings, and continued His Educational Adventures Abroad.

Bebado’s journey then led Him to Johannesburg South Africa in search of the Champagne Prodigy, and World’s Number One Authority on the subject of any and all things Champagne Pezsgos Alom. Under the strict mentoring of Pezsgos Alom Bebado became a Bonafide French Historian who expertise was The History of The Champagne Region in France.

10 Years later Bebado had surpassed Pezsgos Alom who promptly went down into His Grand Wine Cellar, and Drank Himself To Death on some of the World’s Finest and Rarest Champagnes. His last words where:

“I am a Ship, Champagne is My Captain, and The Captain always goes down with the Ship.”

On His way to America Bebado was contacted by Barclay Grande Moccia of the Rose-Blush Institute of Pink Wine. Barclay offered Bebado a Scholarship to Rose-Blush to which Bebado replied that He rather be forced to drink Fortified Wine for the rest of His Life than give a single moment of His time with such Trendy Trash, and that Rose/Blush Wine was a Sin against Dionysus (The Roman God of Wine).

In 1973 Mr. Eddie Osterland was Awarded the First Ever Master Sommelier Certification, and instantly became Bebado’s Idol and personal Hero.

That was Until 1984 when Mr. Fred Dame became the First Person to Pass all Three Parts of the Master Sommelier Examination at Once which is known called Winning The Krug Cup (The 3 Parts are:  Part 1. Theory (Oral Not Written) Part 2. Deductive Tasting of 6 Wines. Part 3. Practical Wine Service.)

More motivated than ever by His New Sommelier Icon Fred Dame Babado recommitted Himself to a Life Long pursuit of Wine Enjoyment and Knowledge. Babado took the Court of Master Sommeliers Introductory Examination January 1, 1985 scoring a Total of 101/100.

Bebado signed up the next day for the Court’s next Examination to become a Certified Sommelier. On January 3, 1985 Bebado aced the Exam with a Record Total Score of 102/100.

Bebado Passed The Court’s Advanced Sommelier Exam (without taking the Recommended 1-2 years of Preparation) on January 4, 1985 with a Total Score of 103/100.

Finally completing His Education and Certification on January 5, 1985 Bebado took The Court’s Master Sommelier Examination Winning the Krug Cup in RECORD TIME OF 51 Minutes and 15 Seconds with a Total Score of 104/100.

Since Passing The Court of Master’s Introductory to Master Sommelier Examinations in under a Week the World was Bebado’s Oyster. Bebado had His pick of the World’s Finest Restaurants like Pretentious Pretentious, and working along side The World’s Top Chef’s such as Chef Willard Z. Dullard.

Bebado made Absurdia His Home on February 5th, 1999, and has been dazzling Our Patron’s Pallets with The Finest Wines, and Food Pairings. The Absurdia is referred to as “The House Bebado Built.”

Thanks for Reading,

 By Les Sober

The Lingering Ghosts of Days Long Gone

Holt Mulligan was considered a good many things, but human never seemed to be one.  You see Holt grew up in the tiny rural community of Wayward Louisiassippi. Now its no wonder no one outside of Wayward heard it referred to as Louisiassippi and if They did it was an anomaly.

Back when the community was first settled in 1630 just 10 years after the Pilgrims landed on Plymouth Rock. Louisiana became a State in 1812, and that didn’t much affect Wayward as a whole. It wasn’t until Mississippi became a State itself in the year 1817 that Wayward was presented with an unique dilemma.

Once Mississippi became a State the State Line was created which cut the Wayward Community right down the middle of Main Street placing half of the Community in Mississippi, and leaving the remain half on the Louisiana side.

The Citizens of Wayward had no intention of dividing their Community in any way, shape or form so They had Wayward reclassified in the Federal Land Commission as a United States Territory like Guam or Puerto Rico. And by doing so this allowed the Wayward Community to stay united in spite of the Government implemented, and inforced State Line.

With the exception of Main Street there were no other paved roads in Wayward which instead was connected by an intricate network of Dirt Roads. The system of Dirt Roads bobbed, and weaved through out the dense forests, and along the various Swamplands of Wayward like a Ancient Spider Web.

Holt lived in an old dilapidated  Trappers Shack circa 1880 on the outskirts of of Wayward. The Locals referred to it as Hobgoblin Swamp. Being considered by most to be a highly undesirable place to live Holt was left on his own (aside from the stray Hunter/Trapper wondering through the Swamp in route elsewhere), and seemed to embrace the Isolation.

Holt had being living in His Trapper’s Shack in Hobgoblin Swamp as long as the Oldest Elder of Wayward could remember which only helped to fuel the rumors about Holt that ran through Wayward like a Wild Fire. And there were plenty believe you me.

There were the cliche Urban Legend Rumors such as Holt lived in isolation because He was a Drug Smuggler. Then there were others such as that Holt was an escaped Convict or Mental Patient hiding out in the Swamp. Some thought Holt was your garden variety Serial Killer who avoided detection (and capture) by committing His killings deep in the dark heart of Hobgoblin Swamp.

Other’s believed Holt was some sort of Immortal Swamp Shaman that chose to live in seclusion so He could practice His Dark Arts in the Shadows. Now not all of the Rumors were nearly as Dire.

Some though Holt was a Shell Shocked (PTSD) War Vet who had lost His sanity fighting on the Battle Field.  Others were inclined to think Holt was some how involved with/in the Witness Relocation Program, but weren’t sure if Holt was a Good Guy (like a Law Enforcement Officer) or a Criminal (as if Holt testified against dangerous Criminals in Court as part of a Plea Deal.)

The Rumor Mill even had a other Holt related Gossip. Holt drove a massive 1976 Ford M151  Military  Jeep which Holt had repainted in Battle Ship Gray. No one even entertained the idea Holt had just bought the fucking thing or perhaps got it from a Family Member or Friend (Though Holt didn’t seem to have either).

The Gossip about the Jeep was Holt stole it from a near by Military Base, The Military gave it to Holt as an accommodation for being a prolific Solider, Holt dredged part of Hobgoblin Swamp and salvaged the Jeep then, The Jeep belonged to one of Holt’s alleged Murder Victims, or the Jeep was stolen by Holt from some Drug Dealer/Gun Dealer/Human Trafficker after he killed them.

The other gaggle of Gossip surrounded Holts “Dog”. I put dog in Parenthesis because according to the various rumors it was considered anything BUT a Dog by the residents of Wayward. Holts dog was an undeniable Beast weighing in at right around 225 or so, and stood so high that Holt had to lift his hand from his side to pet its head while standing. It sure as shit wasn’t a pure bred anything, but rather it had a sort of Frankenstein aesthetic as if Holt had built the Dog Himself one late night alone in the Swamp.

This led to gossip from the Dog was a Holt’s Spiritual Totem, and that the Dog was a bonafide Hellhound Holt raised from a Pup once He rescued it from the clutches of the Devil Himself.  Others speculated the Dog was in fact a Hyena that Holt had acquired in some shady back ally manner. Still some thought it was a Russian Wolf Hyena Hybrid a sort of home bred make shift Monster.

Holt and His Hound were so tightly bonded that if they were both sitting out on the Front Porch of Their Trapper Shack when someone or thing approached Holt and the Hound would slowly turn to look in unison. Holt never had to use a single vocal command with His loyal companion as they seemed to communicate using just Their eyes alone.

No matter how much Holt may of enjoyed the quite isolation out there in Hobgoblin Swamp He still had his daily routine. Holts truck could be heard pulling onto Main Street every morning around 10 am.

Holt habitually parked his Shit Kicker Jeep in the same parking spot directly outside of Old Ed’s Hardware and Mercantile before exiting with purpose. He would then stride right over to Grover’s Guns’n Ammo to spend the rest of the morning mulling around the Gun Shop inspecting the wares so to speak.

At Noon Holt would leave Grover’s and walk over to The Greasy Spoon Diner arriving right at 12:30 for lunch. Holt ate only Steak and Eggs with Several cups of Coffee served black. It had reached a point long ago that The Staff at The Greasy Spoon got in the habit of preparing Holt’s Usual as it were  everyday without even thinking about it having it ready, and waiting upon His arrival.

After ravenously devouring his meal as though it was His last Holt would make His back over to Main Street. Holt would walk down one side, and back up on the other with a slow, and deliberate stride. By Three Holt was holed up at The Boozehound which served as the Local Watering Hole.

Holt would sit at the far end of the Bar facing the Door, and start the afternoon off drinking Budweiser. Once 5 o’clock hit cloaked in a cloud of Cigarette smoke (Holt had a penchant for Unfiltered Camels) Holt would switch from Beer to Bloody Mary’s (usually holding up 4 fingers to signify “Make it a Quadruple” a drink they would only make for the sole reason that Holt was the one asking.) Finally somewhere around 7ish Holt would switch one last time from Cocktail to Strait Booze, and Holt’s pick was 3 fingers of Maker’s Mark.

Holt would remain at The Boozehound until after closing as the staff had to clean and prep for the next day so they let Holt stay until they left. Once it was time to kill the lights the Bar Tender would hand Holt a pickled Egg propped up in a shot glass, which Holt would then throw back like an actual shot as He walked out into the night.

Since Holt came from a Strict School of  “Don’t speak until Spoken too” so normally He would just nod his head or flash a fleeting smile, but never spoke. There was an acceptation and that was when He was at The Boozehound nightly. Even then He didn’t Indulge in Idle Chit Chat or Engage in Gossip (another favorite Southern Past Time) the few times Holt did speak were more than memorable. Especially since what Holt said was as bizarre as Him talking in the first place.

Holt was noted as say things such as “Sure, Meet Up and We’ll fuck each other up with a Rubber Spoon”, “Smooth To The Groove Like Sandwich Bread.”, “Never Met One I didn’t want killed.”, “Death Comes Quickly For Those Who Wait”, “Guess he Killed By Death”, “Pay it Never-No Mind” and other such oddities.

Holt’s life had gone on in this fashion for more years than anyone could remember (Holt included) until one humid Summer day in 1980 all that changed forever.

That day had run on like any other swelteringly hot and horrendously humid Summer’s day complete with Holt arriving on Main Street around 10. Holt rummaged around Grover’s as he always did, and then He ate lunch at the Greasy Spoon before heading to The Boozehound. Holt’s routine remained the same until 5 o’clock.

Holt approached the Bartender Terry and ordered a Double Quadruple Bloody Mary. Terry baulked at such a extreme drink request, but obliged just the same as it was at Holt’s request. Terry made the drink, handed it to Holt who paid for it, and promptly exited The Boozehound.

Holt stood for a moment or two in front of The Boozehound before downing His Bloody Mary in one solitary swallow. He then lit an Unfiltered Camel, and took a long drag, and vanished into thin fucking air leaving nothing behind, but a lingering cloud of exhaled cigarette smoke.

 

THATS RIGHT KIDDIES!!!

Holt was the ONE Thing NO ONE Guessed the whole fucking time.

Holt was A BONAFIDE FUCKING ALIEN!!!!

SUCK ON THAT TITTY TWISTER OF A TWIST M.NIGHT!!!!!

Note to Reader : I started this piece and it didn’t turn out at all the way I wanted. Needless to say I got pissed off as a son of a bitch, BUT I couldn’t pull the fucking trigger and delete the thing. So as I was mulling this motherfucker over when this jumped into My mind:

………HE’S A FUCKING ALIEN. He’ll fucking just up and vanish end of fucking story. Why not the post already shit the bed so why not just take it out in a Blaze of Absurdist Angst.

ALSO just in case Anyone is Wondering I have no clue why I took a shot at M.Night considering I’m a fan of a few of his films.

Thanks for Reading,

 By Les Sober

Absurdia’s Menu : Meet Our Elite Staff of Culinary Masters Pt 1 (Owner & Maitre d’)

Meet Our Gracious Owner:

The Owner of Absurdia is Mr. Leviticus Van Trundle the Son of Thaddeus Van Trundle, and heir to the Von Trundle Fortune. Leviticus grew up running playfully around the grounds of the Van Trundle Family Estate Prabangus Manor.

Leviticus attended the prestigious Prep School Pengar Pasar Academy until he graduated with minimal honors. Leviticus went on to finish his education at the Well to do Ivy League Elitiste Collage where he in majored in International Culinary Arts, and Ev Ekonomi Bilimi.

After Graduation Leviticus took a Culinary Sabbatical, and embarked upon a Trip that led him to travel to the four corners of the Earth to each and every Country &  Nation on Earth.

This rather lofty idea came to Leviticus in a dream on a Summer’s Night in which the ghost of Winston Churchill, Caligula, Anton Lavey, and Leviticus were having diner together, and discussing Flavor Profiles from the four corners of the Earth.

Upon waking Leviticus decided he must sample every food imaginable in every country possible until he ran out of both in 1999 and opened Absurdia.

 

Meet Our World Class Maitre d’Restaurant:

Irei Yushu has become know through out the World as the absolute pinnacle of Perfection in Maitre d Profession as it is known today.

Ire started his training at age 4 under the strict tutelage of Gurandomasuta (Grand Master) Sabisu no Ryoshu  in the small city of Utashinai located in the Hokkaido Region of Japan.

Irei studied furiously for 22 hours a day 7 days a week for 6 years before even being allowed to look at a proper and professional place setting, but that didn’t phase Irei in the least.

At the tender age of 12 Irei was approved by Gurandomasuta Sabisu no Ryosho to advance to the Saiko No  Academy in the Village of Chichibu, Saitama Prefecture Japan.

At 30 Irei graduated the Saiko No Academy at the Top of his Class, and having earned ever award the Academy Offered was drafted by Shiko Collage of the Maitre d’ Arts in Sapporo City.

Irei Graduated Sabisu no Kotei from Shiko at just 42 years of age making him the youngest graduate by 18 entire years.

Eleven minutes after graduating Irei took the extensive, and brutally intense Fukano Board’s Maitre d’ Exam which is administered over a long, and exhausting 336 hours strait with a 3 minute break for every 24 hours of Testing.

Irei finished the Exam in just under 188 hours, without any breaks, and scored a record high of 999/1200 making Irei the most in demand Maitre d’ since French Maitre d’ Grosse Baise (1809-1918).

Irei’s first job was working the front of house for the Elite Swedish Restaurant Feta Katter before leaving for a job as Head Maitre d’ at the Superbly  Sublime Eatery Spise Pa Joes in Denmark. And finally before working with us at Absurdia (starting in 1999) was the Maitre d’ of Maitre d’s at the Exclusive Norwegian hot spot Spis Fettkake.

While working at Absurdia Irei won the coveted Italian Mangiare Cazzate Premio in 2002-Present, The Lithuanian Bepramiskas Prizas (1999, 2002, 2005, 2008, 2012, 2015, & 2018), The Polish Gownaine Maitr d’ Trofeum (2000, 2004, 2008, 2012, 2018), and Portugal’s Highly Prestigious Fiho Da Puta in (2001-2016 and 2017- Present)

Irei’s Motto is “Perfection isn’t a Goal, Its a Way of Life.”

 

Thanks for Reading,

 By Les Sober

We Don’t NEED a Sign.

Yesterday I along with My Mother drove My Brother and His Wife into the nearest City so They could utilize The Airport there to fly home. We went into the City early so We could have Lunch at some little Bistro that My Brother’s Wife had heard of (I forget if She had or hadn’t been there before or if She is just a real fucking Fan of Vietnamese Food), and wanted to eat at.

My Brother’s Wife is a bit more out on the Trendy curve of things, and NO She is NOT a Hipster thank fuck for that. She is in actuality quite awesome so just wanted to clarify that. So I was curious as a cracked out cat, BUT at the same time wary as shit that this was virtually uncharted waters for Me. I have had Vietnamese food only once or twice in My life and sadly with My aging memory can’t remember much about the food.

Anyways We drove into the working class neighborhood where the Place was located and found a place to park. We then walked about 4-5 blocks to the Bistro or whatever the fuck trendy title They identify Themselves as/with.

What is quite cool is that the Place (I hate trendy shit so I refuse to say Bistro, Gastropub, or Fusion as they are pretentious and inane) is housed in a some what renovated Corner Gas Station.  I say some what because while the Owners had full gutted the shit out of the inside and transformed it into a Hipster Clubhouse with a professional kitchen, the outside remained untouched.

The exterior while being rather plain and completely ordinary it was in need of some attention. The paint was severely cracked and chipping badly, the wore out sun bleached Logos and Advertising for the former Gas Station/ Garage were barely visible.

Another reason to mention the condition and aesthetic is due to the fact the Place is one of those Hipster “We’re so fucking cool We don’t need a Sign or any sort of exterior recognition whatsoever, and don’t Advertise because We’re old school word of mouth trendy Hot Spots so Fuck You.”

Thus if You didn’t know it was a place to eat You’d drive right the fuck past it as You would just immediately dismissed it (if You acknowledged it at all) as just another Abandoned Gas Station/Garage so in fact fuck Them.

We decided to sit outside under the awning that used to protect the Pumps and customer’s from Rain, but now Tables. Inside not only was unpleasing They were also fucking blaring some shitty Folk EMD Hybrid shit at Night Club Level for some ungodly reason.

The menu was small with only 6 items on it which I liked as I’m not too familiar with Vietnamese food, and thus wouldn’t be overwhelmed by a larger menu. In the end I tapped out and let My Brother pick for Me. I didn’t want to waste time lingering and loitering staring blankly at the menu as if all of a sudden it would be come clearer to me.

On the reverse side of the menu were the beverages. The first thing I noticed was the entire drink menu were Alcoholic. I have NO problem with Alcohol and am a fan of Beer, but not at 12:30 pm on a fucking Tuesday for fuck’s sake. What I found funny as fuck was at the very fucking bottom of the drink menu it said in tiny lettering “If You Would Like A NON-Alcholic Beverage Please Ask Your Waiter/Waitress”

I thought this was funny because People in general would expect it to be the other way around where one would have to ask for alcohol as the alternative. I also found it wildly fucking entertaining that at the bottom of the Food side of the menu it read again in tiny lettering:

Buy Kitchen a Beer- If you enjoyed your food & want a chance to do something nice for the kitchen staff.

I found myself wondering after reading the above “So what they whole staff splits a singular beer? That doesn’t seem very nice. And why only Kitchen Staff what about the fucking servers? What They don’t deserve a fucking free beer?! Bullshit.

I decided to play it say and stick with fucking water. I didn’t wan to waste ( fucking dollars on some crazy Asian soda/juice only to take a sip to find out I hated it. Fucking Hipster Prices.

The Food was really good and very fucking spicy which again I really thought was cool. The only thing I didn’t dig about are Server was One when You read of what you wanted He had to be a pretentious twat and repeated with its proper pronunciation in a condescending manner.

Two was when He asked “Would You like more water Bro?” I take issue with this because come on Guy “Bro “talk about un-fucking-professional. Also I HATE BEING CALLED BRO. I’m not Your Bro in any way shape or fucking form. I don’t want to be refereed to a Bro as I think Bros are complete pieces of human shit. Fuck You Bro, Fuck Bro, Fuck You.

In the end it was a good meal at a odd Hipster hangout with an excellent outside eating/seating area. The staff weren’t overtly dicks keeping the Douchebaggery to a minimum. They didn’t pipe the shitty Folk EMD music outside through speakers or what have You. The only down side was the aforementioned Hipster Prices which resulted in a fucking $92.49 bill for a basic Lunch deal.

Thanks for Reading,

 By Les Sober

The Theater of the Absurd: The 4 Cornered Circle

Ladies and Gentalmen for ONE NIGHT ONLY Little People Enterprises presents:

The Federation 3 Way Dance!!!

XDW (Xtreme Dwarf Wrestling)

vs.

HMW (Hardcore Midgit Wrestling)

vs.

PWA (Pygmy Wrestling Alliance)

Come and Join us IF YOU DARE for a Night that will live in INFAMY as

Ying&Yang The Sumo Wrestling Brothers from Asian eXtreme Wrestling

take on NO OTHER THAN America’s LPW Tag Team Champs,

The Munchkins of Madness (Killer Klebba and Coleman Cox)

for the FIRST TIME EVER in LPW a C4 EXPLODING RING OF DEATH!!!

When The Bell Rings BLOOD, GUTS, AND BUTTS WILL BE EVERYWHERE!!!

You’ll Also Will See

The Henchmen Nick & Knack vs. Rappaport’s Revenge

in a FLAMING FUCKING TABLES CAGE OF DEATH MATCH!

COMPLETE WITH TUBS OF ALIVE AND LIVID ELECTRIC EELS!!

The Tag Teams Crotch Shot vs. The Disciples of Dinklage in a

KING OF KINK BARBWIRE DILDO LOSER LEAVES TOWN PRO WRESTLING PORN MATCH!!!

4 FOOT LONG SOLID LATEX DILDOS  WEIGHING IN AT 5.5 POUNDS WRAPPED IN GRADE A TEXAS BARBWIRE!!

Half Pint vs. Knee High

in an EXTREME STEP LADDER MATCH for the fucking XDW Micro Weight Championship Belt!

Tom “Fucking” Thumb vs. The Tiny Terror Known only as WARWICK

in a 20,000 THUMBTACK – 1,000 LIGHT TUBE

DOUBLE HEADER OF DEATH AND DESTRUCTION for the

HMW Hardcore Tag Team Titles!! THERE WILL BE BLOOD! EMTs ONSITE!

THEN THE MANIACAL MAIN EVENT: THE OOMPA LOOMPA APOCALYPSE!

7 Way match for the PWA Intercontinental Belt featuring:

Will “Badass” Barty, Bollocks O’Hare, Lil Omen, Rumpelstiltskin,

Mini Man, Sean Shorty, and D-Veto compete in a

FANS BRING THE WEAPONS MATCH “I QUIT” MATCH!!

Fans Bring an ARSENAL OF IMAGINATIONS Brought to Life to inflict PAIN!

THERE IS NO PIN, NO COUNT OUT, NO TAP OUT!

The Only Way To End The Agony is to SURRENDER and say “I QUIT!”

This Night of Inter-promotional Independent is NOT for the FAINT OF HEART OR WEAK OF STOMACH!!

Come SEE THE SHOW BANNED IN 49 STATES for Excessive Violence and Bloodshed!!!

There will be BLOOD, BROKEN BONES, BRAIN DAMAGE, BEER, and BRUTALITY in ABUNDANCE!

THIS ISN’T WRESTLING, IT’S A FUCKING WAR!!!!

BYOB/BYOD

MUST BE 21 WITH VALID ID TO ENTER.

 By Les Then Sober Productions..

 

Tech Support is a Shitty Scam

We have all been there Countless Times over the Years to say the fucking least. At the most inconvenient moment possible some piece of technology that We are using/Need takes a massive shit, and refuses to right itself.

And after tooling around with the Device like the good old “Turn it off and on Again”  and other DIY tricks of the trade. When nothing within the realm of fucking Logic doesn’t work, and your Device is still having a Tantrum like a bratty fucking child We break the fuck down, curse under Our breath, and call Tech Support.

Yeah those Less Than Helpful 9 out of 10 times with Their bullshit attitudes, and general hating of They’re Lives. Well yup you fucking guessed it some of that Trifling Tech shit happened to Me just the other fucking day.

I jumped on My trusty fucking Laptop (AKA My Partner in Crime) logged on to the site here, and it was all normal until I pulled up a Post I was in the middle of working on. Thats when I found out My Format had somehow become completely fucked rendering pretty much everything if You think about it to a grinding halt.

I spent little over a hour trying My best to remedy the situation, but to no avail. I finally had to accept the fucked up fact that I’d have to call Tech Support in for this fucker.

I spent 40 fucking minutes talking with the first Guy and LITERALLY GOT NO WHERE. Apparently He couldn’t access My screen to see what the fuck I was seeing because something on My end effectively blocked Him before He could.

Well this dumb fuck tells Me since the issue is on My end I need to shut off whatever the fuck it is thats locking Him out. So I said fine tell Me then how the fuck I do it and I will now,  BUT thats when the TECH SUPPORT GUY informs Me for some unexplainable reason He can’t.

I then told the Guy how fucking stupid and utterly fucking absurd the issue was. Here I am the Tech Noob asking Him for help only to have Him tell Me Me He CAN”T DO A DAMN THING TO HELP. Then the Tech Expert tells the Noob He needs to figure out an issue the fucking TECH FUCKING EXPERT CAN’T.

Needless to say I was transferred to a Second Guy in what I was told was the TurdPress Live department.

After having to tell the Second joker all over again what the fuck was going on He tells Me He’s all too familiar with the issue and that He sees it several times a Month.

I then ask Him what the hell happened to which He replied an Automatic Update (I have experienced any such fucking thing, at least nothing fucked up like it in the 4 plus years I have been Paying this Provider) had a faulty Plugin that either didn’t load or it only partially loaded either way thats what clusterfucked My Beloved Format.

Now I’m feeling a bit better at least the Second Joker is familiar with the problem, and sounds like this Guy can fix it since He had NO trouble diagnosing the problem in great detail at length. Well I was Wrong.

The next fucking thing I know is this asshole is telling Me for some reason He won’t fucking tell me He can’t intact Fix the issue. I mean shit at least the First Joker had a reason for His incompetence. This Guy had DICK.

I then realized where the fuck this conversation was inevitably headed and that time I was right fucking on.

This assfuck goes on to say that if I want the problem fixed (and remember I can’t write/Post a goddamn thing without My fucking Format being fixed/working) I have to SIGN UP FOR THEIR TURDPRESS LIVE SERVICE.

Apparently They like SO many Others use TurdPress, but in this incidence the Provider Company created TURDPRESS LIVE just to handle all the fucking issues all the fucking users where having. How fucked is that shit I ask You?! A Secondary Company had to create a Tech Support Department to handle THE FIRST COMPANIES USER’S PROBLEMS.

Anyway I damn well know signing up for ANY and ALL ADDITIONAL SERVICES translates into “But You’ll have to PAY US MORE MONEY.” So I ask this fucking Guy how much, and He has the balls to tell Me its “just” a couple hundred a month.

He then lets Me know that most People sign up only for a few/couple months and then drop it like some People do with HBO and Their Game of Thrones Show as well as Other Similar Sinarios with Different Shows.

Bottomline is I’d have to buy a MONTH worth of Support to fix this one issue. I then asked this idiot what the fucking alternatives would be, and He says to surf forums asking questions (and see what the fuck happens) or scouring YouTube to see if You might find something of use. Both would require a great deal of time and effort, but still it all could come up with absolute dick as far as answers.

I was well pissed off by now as anyone would and told this clown I’d have to think about some shit and call back later or something. I sat around for a while killing time before My Wife came home form Work spitting venom.

I for one am SICK AS SHIT that I Pay all these different fucking companies and They all tell Me about the fucking spectacular Customer Service They provide for Their Customers.

Then You have an actual problem thus You call them for Help ONLY TO BE TOLD IT WILL COST YOU MORE FUCKING MONEY for Their Service that can actually fix the fucking problem/Provide the Service You want or need.

I mean where the fuck is the Customer Service Help I’m ALREADY FUCKING PAYING FOR?! How come all these phone fucks can do is charge Me more through some Upgrade orSpecific Service. Talk about Double Billing.

HERE’s The Kicker. Once My Wife got home see took a look at it and had it totally fixed in UNDER 15 Minutes FOR FUCKING FREE.

Tech Support/Customer Service can EAT SHIT SANDWICHES In Jersey.

Thanks for Reading,

 By Les Sober

The Alienation of Alaska

Lets face it there are only 3 different types of People that reside in the Beautifully Brutal Environment of Alaska. Life even in the most populated places in Alaska (like Anchorage for example) day to day life provides a bleak existence cut off from the rest of the Civilized World.

The Weather with its prolonged Winters, Bizarre Daylight Issues, and Freezing Temperatures is only one reason that Regular People visit, but don’t move to Alaska.

The Other is the effects of the Extreme Isolation, a  virtual Plague of Loneliness and Absolute Alienation.

Living that remotely removed from Established Society can wreak havoc on a Persons Sanity causing anything from Paranoia, Aggression, Crippling Depression, Psychosis, Hallucinations (Auditory as well as Visual), and Delusional Thinking, and thats not nearly all.

Point Being Cabin Fever is VERY REAL.

So considering its Foreboding Reputation based on the Harsh Reality of Life in Alaska it truly takes a particular type of person to not just live but even exist there. For Anyone that is not just willing to, but that can also successfully endure the Alienation (and the untamed Wilderness) that is Alaska.

You might be thinking to yourself who ARE the 3 types of People be one might ask themselves, and heres the answer for those who are wondering.

Now the First Personality Type of living in Alaska is quite obviously the Inuits who are the Indigenous Native People of Alaska whose Families, and Ancestor’s have lived long  before recorded time. So it makes perfect sense why they call Alaska Home.

The Second Personality Type that inhabits the grand State of Alaska are the detrimentally Anti-Social motherfuckers.

I’m talking text fucking book Anti-Social Personality Disorder which is one of the most destructive disorders ever Diagnosed. This disorder can cause (One, Some or All)  behavioral problems such as Deceitfulness, Hostility, Aggression, Impulsivity, Irritability, Lack of Restraint, Manipulativeness, Lying, and lack of regard for Their or Others Safety.

These are simply those People who are SO FUCKED in the Head that they CAN’T and Won’t be a Part of any Society whatsoever.

The Last Personality Type One finds living in Alaska are Those People who are running from something, and that something is usually the Law. And why not Alaska is a perfect place to go if One doesn’t want to be found, it is for all intensive purposes Off The Grid.

Now not all of These People are hardened Criminals, some are running to avoid IRS Problems or are Dead Beat Asshole Dads escaping the obligation of Child Support.

Don’t get Me wrong Though there plenty of  Seriously Hardcore Criminals that came to Alaska to avoid Prosecution. Gang Members, Members of Organized Crime, Murderers, Drug Dealers, and Sex Offenders all using Alaska as a last refuge outside of a Life In Prison.

In Summation the 3 Personality Types That Dwell in Alaska are The Indigenous Natives The Inuit, Anti-Social Basket Cases, and Assorted Criminals/Criminal Elements.

So Come VISIT ALASKA because living there SUCKS BIG TIME.

Thanks for Reading,

 By Les Sober

Lollipop Chainsaw Ep. 3 : Bullets For Breakfast Cafe Serves Up Hot Lead Hotcakes

Thank God We’ve made it to the Godforsaken Peninsula.

The Wannabe Leader Guy was right there appears to be 3 other people at least they look like fucking People.

Wait what the fuck was that familiar sound?! HOLY SHIT Their fucking shooting at us the fucking Dicks!!

Thats one hell of a fucking Hello. Shit, Shit, Shit gotta find cover quick! Theres nothing decent to duck behind goddamnit.

Ah Ha looks like a rather large fallen Tree trunk, that shit will have to work. Logs fucking SUCK. They barely provide the needed cover, but there so fucking low to the ground that You have to basically lay flat on your back or stomach to fucking protect Yourself.

Oh come on what the fuck is with this Guy He followed me which lets fucking face it was the best move, BUT the fucker dove behind the fucking Log like We’re in some sort of fucking Action Movie. Heres a tip for Him and thats HE’S NO JASON STATHAM thats for fucking sure.

The dumb son of a bitch literally didn’t look be for He fucking Leapt, and the  stupid bastard landed squarely on Me. Goddamn Dude is heavy as hell yet he seems fit as fuck. He’s gotta be all fucking muscle with out an ounce of body fat or some shit like that. Goddamn.

Huh looks like the 3 other People have taken cover hunkered down in the crevices between the Large assortment of Boulders that run down the entire length of the fucking Peninsula.

Apparently I was wrong, They are in fact NOT shooting at us, but rather They’re being shot at as well. So WHO THE HELL IS shooting at us remains to be seen.

The Bullets aren’t coming from the Jungle behind us, and it isn’t the Other 3 People We saw, and so Whoever is Attacking Us They’re shooting at Us from the Water at Us. SO what They fuck are They some fucking Mermaid Militia?!!

The “wish I was leader” dude is about to poke his head up and see if he can see anything pertinent. Hope He doesn’t get shot in the fucking face, of the fucking top of His fucking head gets blown off leaving His brain exposed.

Alright He was successful! I can hardly fucking hear Him even though He’s laying right fucking next to Me. Whoever is firing at us seems to upgraded Their Weaponry.

We gotta do something as this fucking Log is getting Shredded like a big old piece of fucking Cheese, and I sure as fuck don’t want to get ventilated like a I was made of Swiss fucking Cheese either goddamnit.

Time to cash in on the flight or fight principle and utilize the sudden Adrenaline rush surging like Rocket fucking Fuel through My veins. I don’t know about the other Guy, but I’m going to make a B-Line to the Boulders like the Others.

I’m going to tap this Guy on the shoulder or some shit, point words the Boulders, looks at him and then the rocks several times real quick, and then I bolting out from behind whats left of this fucking Log.

Here it goes. Good got His attention and He acknowledged My plan. Nothing left but to haul ass and hope not to get fucking killed in the process.

FUUUUUUUCK!!! The fucking bullets are whistling past Me WAY TOO CLOSE for any comfort. The fucking sand is getting riddled with Bullets sending sizable geysers of sand exploding upwards as it gets pounded by the The Enemy’s Artillery.

I have to see the motherfuckers firing at Us at least if I’m going to die for fucks sake. Alright running like hell and looking left. What the fuck is going on?!! Looks to me like 6 smaller Sailing Vessels sailing like a Flock of Canadian Geese Fly. There’s The Leader out front, and the rest of the “Flock” Flying behind The Leading Goose  in a Triangle Formation.

The Boulders are only a few feet in front of me now almost there, I’m going to make it by God. THANK FUCK I’m finally holed up in a narrow space in-between a couple of the Boulders like its Trench fucking Warfare.

Where the fuck is that other Guy I was with. There He is Goddamnit still half way out on the goddamn Beach. The fucking fool must have paused before following Me, and now He’s in serious trouble.

Ok at least He’s keeping his head down trying to lower himself as far down as he can, and now He’s Zig Zagging like a Zipper with ADHA on Cocaine.

SHIT! He’s never going to make it! Oh God these unknown fuckers just broke out Their Heaviest Artillery and are unloading like theres no fucking sorrow, OH CHIRST HE GOT FUCKING SHOT!!!

Fucking hell He wasn’t so much shot as He was torn the fuck apart, obliterated  into a Confetti of Flesh. Jesus He’s in pieces, well more like bloody chunks of Meat.

I have to make contact with the Others. I wonder where Their finding around here, how close are We to each other?!

Tune In Next Time For

LollyPop Chainsaw Episode 4: Fate In The Forrest

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober

The F List Spirals Out Of Control Rapidly, Creator Feels Like Dr. Frankenstein

Even I can’t believe this shit is still going. It really did take on a Life of its fucking Own thats for sure.

For Those Brave Enough To ENDURE reading the ENTIRE LIST, Well Thats far beyond impressive. Give yourself a Cigar.

And Now Ladies&Gentlemen Here For Your Entertainment (and Possible Demise) THE FUCK LIST PART FUCKING FOUR.

!Warning: Prolonged Exposure to this Post can Cause Your Eyes To Bleed!

Fuck Fiber Glass. Fuck Dyson Vacuums. Fuck Dust Busters. Fuck Sams Club.

Fuck Early Mornings. Fuck Dude Ranches. Fuck Jackson Hole. Fuck Whip Its.

Fuck Fly Paper. Fuck Chili’s Baby Back Ribs. Fuck Laser Tag. Fuck OSI.

Fuck Flu Shots. Fuck Local Government. Fuck Bake Sales. Fuck Tube Tops.

FuckGarage Sale Early Birds. Fuck Storage Wars. Fuck Duck Dynasty.

Fuck The Lawrence Welk Show. Fuck Gift Shops. Fuck Imitators.

Fuck Couples That Sit On The Same Side Of The Table. Fuck Diamonds.

Fuck Wedding Registries. Fuck Honeymoons. Fuck No Paternal Leave.

Fuck Heavy Flow Days. Fuck Costume Jewelry. Fuck Monopolies.

Fuck Extradition Laws. Fuck Strep Throat. Fuck Tonsils. Fuck Mono.

Fuck Crotch Rot. Fuck Sweaty Balls. Fuck Heat Rash. Fuck Heat Stroke.

Fuck Pork Rinds. Fuck Jay Leno. Fuck Dr. Phil. Fuck Opera. Fuck Sea Lice.

Fuck Boy Bands. Fuck The Jonas Brothers. Fuck Jehovah Witnesses.

Fuck Clocking 60 New Artists Every Time I Listen To Spotify for 3 Hours.

The TV Show Jack Ass. Fuck Jim Verde, Fuck Office Art. Fuck Watercolor.

Fuck Waiting Room Art. Fuck Box Jellyfish. Fuck Station Wagons.

Fuck Crowds. Fuck Lines. Fuck The Band Sugar Ray. Fuck Mark McGrath.

Fuck Methadone Clinics. Fuck Chore Boy. Fuck Shitting In The Woods.

Fuck Zip Ties. Fuck Garbage Ties. Fuck Irritable Bowel Syndrome.

Fuck Bewilderment. Fuck Confusion. Fuck Do Dates. Fuck To Do Lists.

Fuck Team Building Exercises. Fuck Office Birthday Parties. Fuck IBM.

Fuck ADD. Fuck ADHD. Fuck Adult ADD. Fuck Restless Leg Syndrome.

Fuck The Price For Dentures. Fuck Fractions. Fuck Smoker’s Cough.

Fuck Mass Appeal. Fuck The General Public. Fuck Flat Beer. Fuck Luck.

Fuck Vermouth. Fuck Prim & Propper. Fuck Homecoming. Fuck Chick Peas.

Fuck Planking. Fuck Internet Challenges. Fuck Grilling Vegetables.

Fuck Stinky Cheeses. Fuck Closing The Carnegie Deli. Fuck Power Rangers.

Fuck The Jurassic Park Film Franchise. Fuck Agism. Fuck Gary Busey.

Fuck Parsly. Fuck The Today Show. Fuck Erotic Asphyxiation.

Fuck Voyers. Fuck Spies. Fuck Tear Gas. Fuck Jude Judy.

Fuck Souvenir Shot Glasses. Fuck Wearing A Band T-shirt To Their Concert.

Fuck The Drake Passage. Fuck Jimmy Fallon. Fuck Maggots. Fuck Blisters.

Fuck The TV Show Cheaters. Fuck Mosquito Bites. Fuck Hummer Limos.

Fuck Party Buses. Fuck Gift Baskets. Fuck Edible Arrangements. Fuck Frack.

Fuck Being Under Appreciated. Fuck Carpet. Fuck Pink Eye. Fuck Tumors.

Fuck Brain Surgery. Fuck Neurological Disorders. Fuck Boss Hog.

Fuck More. Fuck Less. Fuck Stubbing Your Toe. Fuck Paper Cuts. Fuck Veal.

Fuck Lift. Fuck Ocular Degeneration. Fuck Degeneration X. Fuck InfoWars.

Fuck Dorian Fruit. Fuck GM. Fuck Shitty Weed. Fuck Man Caves.

Fuck Hot Yoga. Fuck Car Shows. Fuck Treachery. Fuck Broken Ribs.

Fuck Back Problems. Fuck Electric Chainsaws. Fuck Electric Lawn Mowers.

Fuck Police Response Times. Fuck Restraining Orders. Fuck Hiccups.

Fuck Inflation. Fuck Exchange Rates. Fuck Currency. Fuck Auto Pay.

Fuck The Gold Standard. Fuck Mixed Nuts. Fuck Internet Cat Fishing.

Fuck SO You Think You Can Dance. Fuck America”s Got Talent.

Fuck The x Factor. Fuck The Voice. Fuck Not Getting a Promotion.

Fuck MV2. Fuck FXX Streaming. Fuck A Dead Tooth. Fuck Dogma.

Fuck Anything Repetitive. Fuck Commercials. Fuck The Penny Saver.

Fuck Pizza Bagels. Fuck Natural Peanut Butter. Fuck Miley Cyrus.

Fuck Rhetoric. Fuck Global Warming Dismissal. Fuck Indoctrination.

Fuck Influence. Fuck Peer Pressure. Fuck Cult Mentality. Fuck BRAVO.

Fuck Exclusion. Fuck Stylists. Fuck Fashion Magazines. Fuck Models.

Fuck Personal Shoppers. Fuck Regional Hospitals. Fuck Road Rash.

Fuck Carpet Burns. Fuck Purple Nerples. Fuck Wet Willies. Fuck Delays.

Fuck Static Electricity. Fuck Perms. Fuck Obscurity. Fuck Fading Away.

Fuck Saying “Bra”. Fuck Saying “No Homo”. Fuck The Delaware River.

Fuck Sunday Sunday. Fuck Set Backs. Fuck Short Comings. Fuck Dyslexia.

Fuck Limitations. Fuck Sweater Vests. Fuck Selfie Sticks. Fuck Compulsion.

Fuck The Dark Web. Fuck Aesthetic Classes. Fuck In School Suspension.

Fuck Private Jets. Fuck Yachts. Fuck Armani. Fuck Corporate Buy Outs.

Fuck Gutless People. Fuck Passionless People. Fuck Pleasantry.

Fuck White Knuckling It. Fuck Photos At The End Of Roller Coasters.

Fuck Jacked Up Beer Prices At Concerts. Fuck Not Using Ones Turn Signal.

Fuck Gender Announcements Parties. Fuck Self Destruction.

Fuck Self Fulfilling Prophecy. Fuck Ms. Manners. Fuck Cutting.

Fuck People Who Bitch But Don’t Do Shit. Fuck Velcro. Fuck Speedos.

Fuck Welcome Mats. Fuck Metal Wind Chimes. Fuck Litter. Fuck Gin.

Fuck Horse Racing. Fuck Slot Machines. Fuck Online Gambling.

Fuck Mark Zuckerburg. Fuck Religious Persecution. Fuck Mormons.

Fuck Child Molesting Priests. Fuck Shunning. Fuck Tow Truck Fees.

Fuck Uninsured Drivers. Fuck Weigh Stations. Fuck Rest Stops.

Fuck Contradiction. Fuck Guessing. Fuck Anticlimactic Shit.

Fuck Probiotics. Fuck Anti Oxidants. Fuck Consumer Culture.

Fuck Duck Duck Goose. Fuck Choosing Teams. Fuck Sunday School.

Fuck Smart Cars. Fuck Wildfires. Fuck Sun Burn. Fuck Fake Balls On Trucks.

Fuck No Pain No Gain. Fuck Daylight Savings. Fuck Craft Cocktails.

Fuck People Who Are Nice To Your Face & Then Talk Shit Behind Your Back.

Fuck IPA Beers. Fuck Folly. Fuck Complacency. Fuck Taint Piercing.

Fuck Credit Cards. Fuck AnyDesk. Fuck Supremo. Fuck Team Viewer.

Fuck Team Viewer 13. Fuck Google Chrome. Fuck Curry. Fuck FBI SCAMS.

Fuck Illegal Call Centers. Fuck Scammers. Fuck Nagaland. Fuck Eating Ass.

Fuck Changing A Flat. FuckColonial Rule. Fuck Electric Bill Scams.

Fuck Ransomware. Fuck Grant Scams. Fuck Refund Scams. Fuck Tea.

Fuck FastSupport.Com. Fuck TechLiveConnect.Com. Fuck News Max.

Fuck Paddle Boats. Fuck Kayaks. Fuck Free Diving. Fuck Night Dives.

Fuck Tea Cozy’s. Fuck Dollies. Fuck Paying For Porn. Fuck Point & Click.

Fuck Dog Strollers. Fuck Instant Gratification. Fuck High Society.

Fuck Galas. Fuck Balls (Dance). Fuck Tuxedo Rentals. Fuck Bowling Shoes.

Fuck Sky Mall. Fuck Country Clubs. Fuck Civil War Reenactments.

Fuck Pink Slips. Fuck Blue Slips. Fuck No Fault States. Fuck Online Bullies.

Fuck Online Grooming. Fuck Rosemary. Fuck Pita Bread. Fuck Bland.

Fuck Common Place. Fuck Annexes. Fuck Sarah Collins. Fuck Saudi Arabia.

Fuck Classic Definitions. Fuck Grammar. Fuck Calculations. Fuck Al Gore.

Fuck Micheal Moore. Fuck The Worst Case Scenario. Fuck The Senate.

Fuck Fishing Licenses. Fuck Hunting Licenses. Fuck Gone With The Wind.

Fuck Girls Gone Wild. Fuck Black Friday. Fuck Cyber Monday. Fuck Futons.

Fuck Lawn Gnomes. Fuck Electric Weed Whackers. Fuck Lawn Furniture.

Fuck Electric Hedge Clippers. Fuck The Hair Of The Dog. Fuck Asbestos.

Fuck Whicker Furniture. Fuck All Bark & No Bite. Fuck Lead Paint Chips.

Fuck HBO’s Real Sex. Fuck Cultural Bias. Fuck The New School.

Fuck You CAn’t Teach An Old Dog New Tricks. Fuck Jeanie Pirro.

Fuck Metaphorical Crutches. Fuck The Band Green Jello. Fuck Tom Farr.

Fuck Standing Room Only. Fuck Selling Out. Fuck Compromising Principles.

Fuck The Band The Impotent Sea Snakes. Fuck John Bolton. Fuck Jeff Flake.

Fuck Scalpers. Fuck Limited Time Only. Fuck Rick Santorum. Fuck Sulfur.

Fuck Amway. Fuck Timeshares. Fuck Tupperware Parties. Fuck Gluten.

Fuck The Next Big Thing. Fuck Jerome Corsi. Fuck Mike Pompeo.

Fuck Cosmo Magazine. Fuck Artificially Flavored. Fuck Based On True Story.

Fuck Carbs. Fuck Lee Press On Nails. Fuck Immaturities. Fuck Bark Collars.

Fuck Mary Kay Cosmetics. Fuck Toxic Shock Syndrome. Fuck Pet Birds.

Fuck Tainted Drinking Water. Fuck Pipelines. Fuck Underwater Drilling.

Fuck Soft Paws. Fuck Declawing Ones Cat. Fuck Cheap Kitty Litter.

Fuck Fake Laughter. Fuck Laugh Tracks. Fuck IRS Scams.

Fuck Cindy Hyde-Smith. Fuck Saudi Prince Mohammad Bin Salman Al.

Fuck Mitt Romney. Fuck Rand Paul. Fuck Scott Walker. Fuck Marco Rubio.

Fuck Conservatives. Fuck Conservatism. Fuck Chris Christie.

Fuck Mike Huckabee. Fuck Judge Roy Moore. Fuck Wes Goodman.

Fuck Homework. Fuck The SATS. Fuck A Dull Knife. Fuck Omarosa.

Fuck Pat Meehan. Fuck Jeff Hoover. Fuck Herman Cain. Fuck Mike Duvall.

Fuck Larry Craig. Fuck Spoilers. Fuck Disorganization. Fuck Bob Allen.

Fuck Misrepresentations. Fuck Jack Ryan. Fuck Bob Packwood.

Fuck Buz Lukens. Fuck Roman Polanski. Fuck Dan Crane. Fuck Edison.

Fuck Robert Bauman. Fuck Obituaries. Fuck Charlie Crist. Fuck Dimwits.

Fuck Matt Wingard. Fuck ChatBots. Fuck Fitness Tracker. Fuck Fitbit.

Fuck The Echo Dot. Fuck Fire Sticks. Fuck Apple AirPods. Fuck Vinyl Pants.

And Most Of All……FUCK SANITY.

If You Read The Entire List Congratulations.

That is Some Extremely Hardcore Shit On Your Part.

Thanks for Reading

 By Les Sober

2 Lunatic’s Late Night Text-A-Rama

Here We go with another behind the scenes glimpse into the Late night conversations via text between SpaceDog and Myself. This Late Night Lunacy leads to numerous Ideas for both Posts and for the Blog in General.

That and Neither of Us can afford a Mental Health Professional aka a Shrink.

And Here We Go:

 It all started when I texted this Pic to SpaceDog.

 

SpaceDog: Is this some kind of penis brainteaser? So apparently there are sneakers now with LCDs in the tongue that can play music videos on a loop.

Les: I found the Pic on some egotistical Art Gallery’s bullshit Website. Holy Shit fuck Air Jordan’s. I’d loop a Musical Porn Montages and play that shit everywhere I go.

+SpaceDog then Texts me a Link for further clarification barstoolsports.com+

Les: Life Beyond Beer Pong?! Lmfao Good game all around.

SpaceDog: I was gonna write an article saying how much i hated Pedro guy from Real World because it was the anniversary of his death, and everyone said nice shit and i literally hated him so much i never watched the show again after.

Les: Ha. Sounds like you should, fuck everyone else’s bullshit.

SpaceDog: I want to actually get people angry though to bring traffic to blog……

Les: Not a bad tactic and a great idea I’m all for pissing people off. The more the merrier. All that shit aside more traffic is what we could use bout now. Where the fuck did all the niche dwellers fuck off too?!!

SpaceDog: My head is so motivated for weeks but my body feels dopesick. At one point I didn’t jack off for 10 days. I honestly think that is the longest I’ve ever gone since like i was 14 before i even knew what my dick was.

Les: 10 days goddamn, Thats really crazy, funny, and true statement.

SpaceDog: Well actually maybe when i was on dope, but that was only because i was fucking my dude in various fats food bathrooms (and woods, us gays do love sex in the woods.)

Les: Its hard to jerk off when you keep nodding off every 5 minutes. The Old banging in Bathrooms an American Sex Classic. Having a Woody in the Woods. Shit that sounds like a gay porn title.

SpaceDog: The sounds of autumn…rancid sperm hitting decaying leaves.

Les: Holy Shit! Lmfao!

SpaceDog: The dead sperm inspired me, new blog Lmfao

Les: DEAD SPERM is My new favorite Band.

SpaceDog: If u can guess what it is about….you win 5 bucks paypal.

Les: My new saying “When faced with Writer’s Block remember dead sperm inspires. $5 for My Ferrari GoFundMe. Hmmm…

SpaceDog: Dead sperm and the smegma seven…i want a big band like George Clinton and The Funkadelics or Arrested Development.

Les: Smegma Seven, whats that a porno remake of The Magnificent Seven which was the American Western remake of 7 Samurais?! Awesome.

SpaceDog: Damn i saw your 3rd fucks. Was it cathartic for you like taking a giant shit. If i could have miracle coffee (or Adderall) right i would seriously put all your fucks in there to see if i could come up with the missing fucks.

Les: Its fucking weird I just think of a couple things I’m all Fuck That, and then its like fucking Autopilot the fucks just start to flow. Honestly there might be a Part 4. Who Knows. Thats why this one was titled “F List Continues Baffling Its Creator” which is nothing but the fucking truth. Or perhaps Adderall in your coffee. That be truly awesome if you could/did. Shit I wouldn’t personally it be too much even for me. Saw your Tweet Very Cool.

SpaceDog: The one from 10 seconds ago or the rambling list of musicians that will never play together. I think if i had like 19 pieces of paper i could do it. Oh wait it’s 2018 we have computers.

les: The on that started “There’s a lot of  shit on f-yourblog.com Lmfao. Then you wrote something about healing yourself with music. True these damned Digital Type Writers are rather amazing.

 I then texted this picture to SpaceDog

SpaceDog: U made that? Thats filthy.

Les: Unfortunately not. I saw it and it did remind me of some of My shit which is why I get a real kick out of it. When I look at it it makes Me laugh like a motherfucker.

SpaceDog: I need to find a good dick pic for u. I owe u like 20 penii

Les: I uploaded it today to the Blog for future use Lmfao.

SpaceDog: D***

Les: At least 20. D***?

SpaceDog: So the autocorrect suggests dick and 1000 things way worse. Yet when i do the talk to text it censors me.

+SpaceDog texted Me the Mushroom Emoji followed by The Egg Plant.+

Les: Thats SO FUCKED, it fucking censored you thats fucking balls. Your on Shrooms and have an Erection?!

SpaceDog: I couldn’t find tiny hands that mighta worked.

Les: For What?! Some sort of Pedophile Emoji Code, I’m Lost.

+I then texted SpaceDog the New Bizarre Smiley Face Emoji+

SpaceDog: Idk I’m just still frustrated i don’t think theres an emoji for anal.

Les: WTF is this New Emoji supposed to fucking represent exactly?! I can’t believe no one has put out X Rated Emojis yet for fucks Sake or Weed Ones either. Its a Life Alert Emoji it means Help me I’m having a fucking Stroke! It could be what an Emoji looks like when it cums.

SpaceDog: Omg the new life alert commercial is funny as shit. Im gonna look for a dirty emoji APK right now.

Les: Motherfucking Life Alert, Can’t say the classic tag line its fucking Trademarked now even though they don’t use it in their ads anymore. Good for You happy hunting.

SpaceDog: Im down i don’t need it to find accounts on mu device and modify my sd card for the sake of a few titties.

Les: Yeah fuck all that Bullshittery. I wouldn’t bother either fuck and that.

SpaceDog: Apks are great let u bypass the store on android but idk how the fuck to fix my phone….Wow i found a porno sounding chick on Spotify…the first 8-12 seconds are passable but now my ears might be bleeding.

Les: Ah Ha! A fucking Loophole.

SpaceDog: I almost don’t want to link it until u piss me off somehow.

Les: Her musica gota real porno vibe that fucking funny. Good to be prepared I suppose.

SpaceDog:Well she’s in the bed according to the lyrics and fuck me is a lyric. Sounds like the equivalent of a dj scratching a record but it sounds more like chalk on a blackboard.

Les: My username on Spotify is !@#$%^&*()_+ figured that shit out. That’s about it so fucking far.

SpaceDog: I guess this chick cancels out Maggie Rogers, i don’t think i have seen an authentic hippie chick with talent ever (at least not a millennial one)

Les: Me either. Who is Maggie Rogers?!

SpaceDog: Lights on…..shes some chick sol discovered. I almost dropped my were when i first was listening cuz i expected it to be trash. She has a bit of a stevie nicks vibe but looks more like a pretty, less skank, stoned janis Joplin.

Les:Damn gotta be damn decent to make a man drop his weed. Nice combo more power to her.

SpaceDog: Haha oh look bohemian rhapsody is charting for the 190 millionth different decade.

Les: 37 new Fucks to be listed now. Bohemian Rhapsody WILL NEVER DIE! Just like fucking Stairway To Heaven or Areosmith’s Dream On.

SpaceDog: Fuck Spotify for making me add 60 new artists i like overtime i listen more than 3hrs at once…theres 38.

Les: Some shit lingers like a stale fart. 38 it is. Spotify has that fucking effect.

SpaceDog: Remember when we used to actually have to talk to other people for bands or actually go to shows or have some dickhead at record exchange push some bullshit.

Les: Oh fuck yeah I remember the pre tech music World.

SpaceDog: I do just not the brief period between the end of napster and the beginning of youtube. I was way too fucking high.

Les: The Assholes at the Record Exchange were a bunch of pompous ass condescending cunts. I think we’re in the same boat with being high and timelines.

SpaceDog: All I remember about then was avril lavigne. I really think that was like 1 of every 3 songs played on the radio for those years or maybe she used to make me nod out…she kinda looked like a teenager junkie.

Les: Avril Motherfucking Lavigne. Radio replay rotations killed Radio. She was the original Tween Musical Artist.

SpaceDog: Yeah theres like 2 tolerable stations here. The rest cause me suicide watch.

Les: The only Radio listen too is in My Wife’s car which has Satellite Radio which cursing and lack of commercials aside rally isn’t a hell of a lot better than regular Radio. I haven’t been able to find a Rock Station in over 10 fucking years for crying out fucking loud. Cunty Country Music Awards.

SpaceDog: The one station is still alive believe it or not here. WMMR. Pierre Robert still there too. She has the one lyric “I don’t know who you are but I’m with you.” I made out in the back seat with some stranger lady twice my age because it fit the lyrics.

Les: holy fuck stick, WMMR is still around good for them. Pierre Robert has to be 150 by now goddamn. You were on When Cougar Attack!!

SpaceDog: I’ve had several. LOL

Les: That lyric nowadays sound like the average Trump Supporters. Blind Ignorant Lemming Twats that they are. Several?! DAMN you’ve been on fucking Safari and shit.

SpaceDog: This one was consent at least. I had some midget lady who looked like the one in kindergarten cop try to follow blow me. Except i was passed out in a chair LOL

Les: A real fucking legit midgit?! Thats like trying to play Pool with a Limp Rope.

Les: where there any Senior Citizen Sluts?! After the midget I fucking have to ask. Poor Little Lady was denied the dick.

SpaceDog: She was like 50 LOL, there were a senior slut who blacked out, fucked some guy she had no clue of, and left her teeth there.

Les: LMFAO!! She fucking left her fucking teeth there, well good news id I hear gum jobs are amazing. I accidentally fucked a 89 year old woman once. She got confused and wondered into the MEn’s room at the fucking Mall when I was jerking off in one of the stalls. Anyway She busted in on me, thought I was they Bathroom Attendant,dropped Her drawers, and sat down to use the Toilet. I freaked the fuck out and started yelling at Her, but She was weak as shit so She’d try to stand the hell up only to fall back down on my dick. Worst part of it all was She pissed all over my balls. LMFAO (is that wrong?!) Fuck the American Pie pussies I have that gross humor that will make People actually dry heave.

SpaceDog: Thats funny as fuck. That type of comment exactly makes me wish that old people comedy with david allan grier and wiki lawrence was on anything but network tv.

Les: Just some weird imagery that popped into My fucking head the rest wrote itself. The pissing on My balls makes Me laugh like hell not sure why.

+My phone rings and its SPaceDog but it rang once and stopped+

SpaceDog: Sry idk how that happened. Yeah thats when it got my tbh.

Les: That’s cool, I can’t talk on the phone which pisses Me off to no end, but My Wife is sleeping and on Puppy Duty. And with these insanely high as wannabe Cathedral ceiling We got here its goddamn impossible to avoid an echo of some sort which ironically also pisses Me Off when I’m on the Phone most of the fucking time anyway.

SpaceDog: It (his phone) thought the couch was my head.

Les: It’s a Short Bus SmartPhone.

SpaceDog: I guess i had my ass there and it was warm and it thought it was my face.

Les: Well they’re called Ass Cheeks so….

SpaceDog: OK now Im legit putting my phone on my ass to see what happens. Oops i have no ass…no call. Not even bare ass cheek works…it only likes hot ass.

Les: Awesome, all in the name of SCIENCE! Shit I figure Bare Ass would have worked.What about if you put it under your balls?! Just drape those bitches on the phone. Might work.

SpaceDog: Yeah maybe if i wasn’t on my stomach laying down my ass would more resemble a face cheek. How about in my rectum, then if i don’t text u back but only send you back repeated emojis u do the same for me since my phone is on vibrate? Thanks.

Les: Just type by squeezing Your Ass Cheeks together like some fucked up Morse Code. Sure if it works I got your back. Do the Emojis have to make sense because if they’re just random I’ll be honest I might cheat and stick it in My Dog’s ass.

SpaceDog: Ok so i really thought it would if i stuck it off to the side of my ball sack but neither side worked.

Les: GODDAMNIT! Oh well Phone wins. All that’s left is to try Tainting it. Not sure how that would work though.

SpaceDog: Yeah now that i am rubbing myself down with the phone like it’s a metal detector wand i think the show is over.

Les: I’m so fucking Posting this tomorrow. Like a fucking Metal Detector LMFAO Brilliant.

SpaceDog: I went in from the back on the taint. And it made my font big like i have a fucking jitterbug and am 90.

Les: Did it work and if not try doing it again in reverse this time.

SpaceDog: And it keeps telling me voice input is unavailable.

Les: It enlarged the font, that’s fucking insanely amusing.

SpaceDog: I gotta hit the front bar.

Les: Voice Input Unavailable BOO to that BULLSHIT.

SpaceDog: Ok i did the back again. I almost taint dialed someone.

Les: Getting Closer, Progress is being made. If it works and someone answers just scream “TALK TO MY TAINT” and hang the fuck up,

SpaceDog: Pits

Les: That works I suppose as well.

SpaceDog: Pits not active…..the smelly one nor the distinguished one. Anywhere else?

Les: No I’m pretty sure I’m out of ideas at this point. The Genitals were really my Wheel House. Lmfao.

SpaceDog: Yeah my taint is a lot more talkative then i would have thought, and blind.

Les: Blind I would expect, a talkative Taint indeed.

SpaceDog: Oooooh I’m a fat fuck imma try side boob.

Les: The Taint Factor Winner for 2018 is Gus Gifferson with a Record breaking 10 inch Taint.

Spacedog: Q9q SP.p .o

Les: Side Boob CLASSIC. Q9q. Sp.p .o I believe it’s ALIVE!

SpaceDog: The first was the right boob. the app was the left. Left boob also is blind. Font big again.

Les: Interesting. So the enlarged font is reoccurring you say. So Your saying Your right Boob can see?! As if instead of a nipple You grew a fucking eyeball? Still worked blind or not.

SpaceDog: I wish you and your wife were here i was gonna have her test it with her lady parts but then i realized my dan is on this phone and if she stuck it in her after me that might be 9th degree rape in some states. Why Stop?

Les: Valid point I don’t need a 9th degree Rape Baby on My hands thank you.

SpaceDog: That was my mid chest then me saying what and stop because my tv went to steve harvey and i hate that guy.

Les: NEVER SHALL WE STOP!

SpaceDog My phone is strictly dicktly anywhere after tonight.

Les:I know You added him to the second Fucks list. Strictly Dicktly?!

SpaceDog: Yeah bad memory some queen used to say that in the 90’s. I always wanted to punch him.

Les: Don’t fucking blame You there I would have too. I’d say pondering sticking My phone in a Kangaroo’s pouch to see if it works accept I’d end up arrested and charged with molesting a fucking Kangaroo or some goddamn thing like that.

SpaceDog: As long as i didn’t have to stick it in a joey.

Les: LMFAO! Crackhead Man Whore Junkies Need Not Apply.

SpaceDog: I meant the baby kangaroo but I’ve been joey free since those ten guys in my 20’s who kinda had no name.

Les: I mean we could shove the phone into some Junkies access they got from shooting up so much shit and see if that works. I know what You meant No Worries I just saw an opening so I took it. The Nameless 10.

SpaceDog: I will stick it halfway in tomorrow at some point. I need to prepare for that and I Zombie. SpaceDog and the 10 ancient queers of the earth. The short form is 9 Blackouts and a broken toilet.

Les: LMFAO EXCELLENT. !0 Ancient Queers, Short Form, I Zombie.

That Ended That Night Transmission.

Brought to You By,

 SpaceDog & Les Sober