Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Shit Shoot

Douse those candlelight vigils, WGB is back! And boy, do I have a lot of shit to shoot your way, dear minions. First and foremost is my opinion of ole Twit Romney, the Greedpublican candidate for president. Here is his economic plan in a nutshell: Expand the tax base (increase taxes on the poor), reduce the tax burden of the “job creators” (decrease taxes on the wealthy), increase defense spending (welfare for the rich) and cut services for the poor (those lazy fuckers). And that simple plan will magically balance the budget! Wow. Anyone out there believe that line of festering bullshit? Maybe some dope in West Virginia named Cletus but no one else, right? Mitt will also have us at war with Iran, Yemen, Russia, Iceland, Canada and god knows who else. Oh, and by the way, Mormons are fucking weird. Celtics will lose 4 in a row to the hated Heat. Sox will come in third, maybe even fourth in the AL East. So there you have it. All you need to know about everything.

Friday, January 13, 2012

Hostess with the mostess

Horrible news! Despite my best efforts, Hostess, the maker of the legendary and tasty Twinkie, has filed for chapter 11. You would think that all those Little Debbie’s Snack cakes I’ve shoved in my pie hole over the years would have increased their bottom line instead of just increasing my bottom’s size. I may have to redouble my efforts, hunker down and pound some serious Devil Dog and be rapacious in my pursuit of Ring Dings. In the meantime, here are some suggestions for Hostess to help turn things around.

Find a real sexy spokesman for the product. Some long legged super model slowly sucking the cream filling out of a Twinkie would make for a good commercial. You could also use Tim Tebow to hawk Wonder bread by tossing a loaf, quarterback style. Never mind that he would miss the receiver.

You know how Twinkies will last forever due to the copious amounts of preservatives in them? Well play that angle up with a series of ads touting Hostess as the post-apocalyptic, zombie infested, dystopian survival food. Hostess should defiantly sponsor “Walking Dead.” Tag line “Don’t eat brains, eat Hostess Cupcakes!”

I would go on but I have a sudden craving for some Zebra Cakes.

Tuesday, January 03, 2012

Picking The Corn Holer In Iowa

So who is it going to be - human prolapsed rectum Ron Paul, anal sex detritus Rick Santorum or establishment boy Mitt Romney? The rest are gonzo, let’s face it. Too bad about Newt though since he was at times even more amusing than Herman Cain. Mark my words, Mitt will be the eventual winner of the nomination. Only thing left for excitement will be his choice of VP. Betcha he chooses blubbery blowhard Chris Christie who will make a great and very large attack dog. Mitt will stay above the fray saying whatever he needs to get you to vote for him while Christie will say really bad things about the negro who dares occupy our White House. Wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if Mitt made a deal with the double-wide New Jersey governor not to run for president in exchange for the future VP nod. Now I’m praying for Ron Paul/Sarah Palin 3rd party run!

Thursday, December 22, 2011

A Letter To Santa Claus

[Ed. Note: We asked WGB to submit a cheery blog for the holidays and this is what he came up with. Our profoundest apologies.]

Dear Santa:

You corpulent piece of reindeer scat. You didn’t get me anything from my fucking Christmas wish list last year! I have half a mind to head on up to the north pole and pound some thermite up your flabby white ass. You spend all year playing weird sex games with your dwarf slaves leaving yourself no time to execute your primary function which is to bring me presents! And lord knows I don’t ask for much. Just a gun or maybe a new car. Too busy getting a Cleveland steamer from a midget to facilitate a new firearm for Wheel Gun Bob, eh? Well fuck you!

Tell you what, this year I will give you one more chance. This is what I want - an over/under 12 gauge shotgun. Simple. Just go to the Kittery Fuckin’ Trading Post (KFTP) and get me one. How hard is that (that’s what Mrs. Claus said)? Just keep this in mind, you bloated shithead – fuck up and you will be shaking like a bowl full of gelignite and there will be a pink mist instead of Saint Nick.

Merry Christmas,

Wheel Gun Bob

Friday, December 02, 2011

Less Wheel Gun Bob To Come

I’m going to get me one of them deli counter take-a-number things. Would you like to know the reason? Well, let me tell you my dearest cyber minions. It’s because the latent Adonis in me is about to re-emerge, much to the delight of those with vaginas. See, I am on a crash diet that will turn me from the larger gentleman I am now into a svelte and desirous object. I will make even Herman Caine jealous with the amount pussay I will get. I will be swarmed with pizda hence the need for the deli number thing. I might even have to cancel some of my subscriptions to porn sites since I won’t have the time to devote to them anymore. In the meantime, I’m fucking hungry.

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Herman, Bobby, Ray

Random but hilarious/witty/insightful thoughts from yo' gangsta Wheel Gun Bob:

Ole Herman Cain apparently gets more ass than a Grand Canyon tour. But should it disqualify him from being president? No, it’s his idiotic, goofy and dangerous ideas that should disqualify him. It’s not the behind, it’s the 9-9-9. But he is still the most amusing candidate out there so I hope he stays in the race.

Bobby Valentine is now the Red Sox manager. He is an egomaniacal blowhard, sort of the opposite of the most successful manager in Red Sox history, Terry Francona. Can’t wait to see what transpires. I hope he wears more disguises and sneaks back into dugouts after being kicked out of games like he’s done before. Wouldn’t it be great if an umpire ran him and then Bobby comes back dressed as a Rabbi or Darth Vader or Dorothy from the Land of Oz?

The new Mars rover is on its way to the red planet. This sucker is a lot bigger and ballsier than previous rovers. Its nuke powered so if it survives its terrifying trip to the Martian surface then it will potentially last for years. I know the Martians will eventually get sick and tired of avoiding it and hiding from it so they may just zap it with a ray gun after a few months. Or maybe the rover will send back a picture of a sign that says “Fuck off already!” in Martian. And hopefully the Martian holding the sign looks just like Ray Walston.


Tuesday, November 08, 2011

More Lies!

President Obama is a festering liar. Yes, I know all politicians, particularly presidents, lie through their teeth all the time. Our last president lied so much that he got us into the raging fucking mess we are in now. And the current liar in chief is hardly able to get us out of it. But there are lies and then there are lies. It’s one thing to just systematically lie the country into a useless war that will cost us trillions of dollars and snuff out hundreds of thousands of lives. It’s another thing entirely to lie about the existence of extra-terrestrials as the Whitehouse did recently. In a lie of intergalactic proportions, the Obama administration claimed, in response to some petitions, that it has no evidence that extraterrestrials have ever tried to contact humans or that there is any evidence of a cover up. WHOPPER! Good god, does he take us for fools? He even has a reptilian humanoid for a Secretary of State for chrissakes! Come on.

Maybe the Whitehouse response was dripping with sarcasm that no one picked up on or perhaps it was “opposite day.” If not, WE THE PEOPLE KNOW BETTER! Cut the bullshit and stop treating us like children. First Roswell now this. Us folk up here in New Hampshire have to contend with UFOs all the time (incident at Exeter, Betty and Barney Hill, etc.) so you ain’t foolin’ us, Mr. President. Next time I see a UFO hovering around the Schiller plant should I pretend it’s not there?

Despite Mr. Obama’s blatant disregard for the truth, I will be winter proofing my house this weekend and at the same time, alien proofing it. My next blog will contain tips and tricks so that you, my dear cyber children, can do the same.