Reason # 1 Living In Oregon Sucks (part 3)

As I’ve perviously stated, I’ve moved around… For awhile I lived in Texas, which by the way, FUCK me it was hot! You do not know the true meaning or feeling of “Swamp Ass” until you spend a summer in central Texas wallowing in your own foul gravy. Basting your salty nut-sac until it’s a perfect 100000 degrees. “Mmmm! Who brought the ham salad, y’all!”

Oh… And the indigenous people of Texas are BIG fat fucks! Whoever first said “…everything’s bigger in Texas!” must have been being sat on by a big fat fuck, like, from the side on the victim’s pelvis. Soon, the Fat Texan starts to lightly bounce up and down. The victim starts to feel their insides touch, zapping nerves with deep internal pain after every fatty heave. Internal hemorrhaging and organs that have never touched before seemingly having orgies of pain to match the orgy of humiliation and cracking bones. Judging from the pain, maybe these internal organs should be segregated. How ironic since Texas is know for championing the concept of segregation.

But, Yeah yeah, that bullshit goes double for their goddamn asses! They’re big. I don’t care if someone else has made that joke before, I’ve seen it, and it’s all too true. Just watch any given episode of “Texas Storage Wars” and play a game of Spot The Svelte Guy. Better yet, make it a drinking game. You could play it at an AA meeting.

But the music was good, and the people were nice. Which is more than I can say for these asshole shit-headed hacks in Eugene, Or. Too harsh? Then you live here if you’re so great. Speaking of the local folks:

Just imagine whatever he's saying in the voice of sling blade

No no, you don’t understand. They’re fucking weird! It’s hard to explain, but they’re so…odd. Unknowable. Under the hippie veneer, is a mean-spirited and judgmental soul of a snake, and they don’t take kindly to strangers.

Of all the places I’ve been, they seem to have the most quiet, serial killer-types per capita.the populous is mad up mostly of Steve Wilkos guests. Lots of drinking, yelling, tweekin, cracked TCRI cans for people.

For instance: I don’t know why, but I’ve met more abusive couples here than anywhere else I’ve ever lived. It’s ok though… They hit each other, see. It seems to always goes both ways, so it’s cool, (and their kids throw Mone at em’) And then they’re just, like, “Whatever! I have a black eye, CPS took the kids, and my husband’s out on bail. But how was YOUR weekend?!”

Why, I AM currently single… Maybe because I have a weak left cross.

Hi! I'm your blind date! Glglglglglglglglgl!!


Reason #256 Living In Oregon Sucks (Part 2)

I’ve always tried to keep up a certain level of excited enthusiasm wherever I go, however futile. I’m not bouncing off the walls with a big fucking tourist hat, but I always try to be down with the locals. I’m not hard to get along with, I dont think… Then again… I am typing something that the news will call “creepy messages on his Facespace” after im arrested. But then who isn’t? The point is, I’m bad at introducing myself. So here:

Hi. I'm Mike. I am quite jaded and creatively jealous of my peers. But I'm an American in 2012, so that's fucking that! How are you?

I’m a retired (failed) rock musician, and I’m getting old and curmudgeonly. Could be that’s why all the local fashions, music, trends, and art here are just a swirl of visual and aural dysentery to me. Are you doing it on purpose to piss me off?

Actually, I’m not even sure if you’re doing it out of anger or reflex? And that’s the interesting part. The people of Eugene think they’re BIG TIME! Oooooh, BIG fuckin’ time! Big enough to push the boundaries of what is apparently the most popular genre in Eugene: the boring bullshit elderly hippie who lightly strums an acoustic guitar, whilst bleating lyrics with a “nature” tone to them! And hot shit! They’re gonna make a difference!

Oregon is as broke as it is bleak. Eugene’s biggest features are a bunch of lesbians who still can’t get married in this “great progressive state”, and a ‘No Sales Tax’ policy deserves it’s own entry in this series. As for the music scene, it almost completely ephemeral. I read. I go places and talk to people around here. Wanna know who the most popular band in Eugene is? Fuuuukin’ me too! The best Eugene’s got in it’s fucking history is The Cherry Poppin Daddies (oh-boy…) and Floater who I’d make a joke about, but the name says it all.

If L.A. learned me anythin’ it learned me to recognize mediocrity attempting to pass itself off as the real thing. I own a mirror. So, I packed up my fear of creative inadequacy and got the fuck outta there! Here, I guess if nothing else I feel a bit of schadenfreude. But someone needs to tell these poor people to either shut up or move, too. As a great man once said: “A man has got to know his limitations.”

If you want to read part one of my Oregon Sucks series, go ahead. Just stay off the furniture and don’t make a mess.

Deleted Scenes From NES Games


Fuck X-Box! Eat me, Wii! Sony wants how much for a PS3? Who am I? Mitt Romney? Piss off! I’ve got my trusty Nintendo Entertainment Mutherfukin System!

And I’ve got my balls Testosterone roar!!!
So here is what I hope to be the first of many little tributes to the NES.

Today’s Topic- Deleted Scenes In NES Games?!
Check this out. There’s this web site called The Cutting Room Floor, and it’s apparently run by some friendly hobby hackers who comb through the actual code of the games to find stuff that was left out of the final product. It’s pretty neat of you’re a total fucking nerd like me. So, here are a couple of the more interesting examples that I could find:

***BIONIC COMMANDO*** unused conversations
This game took the NESese’s most crippling liability, the boring old jump button, and replaced it with exactly infinite infinity times the awesome. I did the math on that by entering all 9s on a calculator, and then putting it in the microwave, and setting it on ten minutes. The results were astounding (and surprisingly tasty!)
By having a bionic arm instead of just an improbably high 3 story jump like his contemporaries, he could swing like Spiderman, he could smack fools around with it like a cyborg pimp hand, and he could grab shit like Rick Santorum grabs at men through glory holes with a Grabber Tool. (I’m alleging. But since apparently most ultra-conservatives like to have gay sex, sometimes in public bathrooms, it’s just a matter of time. Mark my words. Anyone with that big a stick up their ass about sex is hiding some dark, dark shit.)

Apparently, the Bionic Commando himself was thinking along the same lines, judging from a mysterious deleted section of dialog hidden deep inside the actual code of the game. Due to the process of its discovery, it’s impossible to know the context, or even proper order, of the intended conversation. So here it is, as is. I’ll do my best to fill in the blanks:

“Oh, great. Another fucking communicator. Thanks Staff Sargent Waste-My-Fucking-Time!”

“Yeah, glad you met me, is that all?”

“…really? Um…ok”

“It’s cold in here is all. Look, let’s just hurry this up. Ready?”

“Right. Were two men having anal sex in the middle of a war zone, but only ONE of us is an idiot!”

“I thought the safe word was “Crying”! Oh, you were…


***DUCKTALES*** Alternate ending
THE GAME: Based on the cartoon, you control Scrooge McDuck as he travels the side-scrolling world looking for treasure, hoping to amass the worlds largest fortune. Sure he may vote Republican, but well forgive him since he’s out there busting his OWN ass for his filthy money! Though he’ll probably vote against Gyro and Gizmo-Duck’s right to marry.

This is one you can actually do at home if you are truly the sad and lonely type. Just follow these simple steps! It’s as easy as one, two, seven!
1-Play through the whole game until you arrive at the final boss, Dracula Duck.
2-I hope you’ve read at least this far before actually going through with step one, because you have to show up with a total money amount divisible by exactly $3,000,000. Math? I’m out.
3-Take damage. This is without a doubt the hardest step because the bosses in this game are easier to accidentally kill than a Tot Mom’s Tot.
4-Press Select to restore your hit points (this costs $3,000,000). I didn’t know you could even do that until just now! How could you ever need to? Knowledge truly is power.
5-Repeat steps 2 and 3 until broke.
6-Finish off Count Duckula and win the short pointless race to the treasure.
7-Scrooge weeps sad, bitter tears. Poor dear. Scottish or not, who wouldn’t drink themselves to a blackout daily after risking your life going to the goddamn MOON and having nothing to show for it but a humiliating splash page on the cover of the Duck Press (How’d they find out? Who owns that paper?Rupert Merduck!) I’m just saying, when was the last time you were on a fucking pogo stick? And how long did THAT shit go on for? I have no idea where this pant-less duck monster keeps it’s genitals, but are they gonna’ hurt? Goddamn!

You’ve truly earned this stupid loser screen. Enjoy, loser! You’re a LOSER!!!
Or you could just watch it here, if you’re a winner.

Tune in next time to find out the truth behind the deleted power-up that turned Super Mario into a black man??



I’ve known you for years,
Yet I can’t fix you,
Be proud of your escape,
Don’t let it fall through,

Don’t be a victim,
You have that choice,
And every time you ignore him,
He loses his voice,

Were all getting older,
But got ripped off on the wiser,
She only cries on my shoulder,
And now I’m starting to despise her,

Nothing happened and it never will,
Avoid the phone and steal the show,
Pull up your pants and take the red pill,
Thanks for nothing I’ve gotta go,

Turn on the TV,
Then stare at the wall,
Caught you deep thinking,
About nothing at all,

It was meant to be,
Your voice cuts through me,
And makes my soul bleed,

Reason #127 Living in Oregon sucks

Excuse me…but I am a grown-ass man! Why do I need some fuckin’ grade school drop-out to pump my gas for me? See, in California, where I’m from, you park at the pump, and walk up to the clerk in the bullet-proof box. You pay him/her/it and then you just pump your gas and go. That’s it. Done.
But here in Oregon, I’m always waiting around for some pud to finally get around to my car. It’s times like that when I wish I was a public nuisance or something. What I’m saying is, this whole system seems ripe for crime and mischief. Here’s some an ideas for how to fuck with these jerk-offs:
• Pull up with no pants! -Wear a nice business suit with a tie, but from the waist down: bare wiener.

"Excuse me, sir. Could you give me a hand with my stick shift?

Now, don’t get the wrong idea and start doing something nasty, you know. Don’t do anything that might make Jesus or Rick Santorum cry. Just a flaccid, hairy reminder of how much their job sucks. They won’t believe that some asshole would actually pull in and pull it out. Later, when the cops are arresting you, just tell them you’re starting a new fashion trend called “The Full-Body Mullet”. Business up top, party downstairs! And you’re all invited!


Greetings to anyone bored enough to read this crap. Welcome to my blog! This is my first attempt at “Blogging” as the kids call it, so I’m going to experiment a bit. First, let’s look at a picture. Hmm… Let’s see…


Ah! Here we see that the gorilla must have kissed that enchanted frog, and the picture was taken mid-transformation.

Ok, cool. Hey, there’s all these extra buttons. Let’s see what all this shit does!

and this is me whispering

Here’s a classic Internet comedy device that was never funny and annoys the piss out of me will always make me laugh!

I don’t know if I can embed video. That’s for another day. I hope to be posting real shit very soon. See you then!