Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Try a Little Dick

Do you know the real reason president Obama has not yet made a decision as to his course of action in the Afghan conflict? He hasn’t consulted me yet! So how will I advise him when he does? Well, I will advise him to let his wife give me a mouth hug but I’m not sure that would help the situation in Afghanistan much.

Afghanistan has mountains and poppy fields and that’s about it. How many great rock bands have come out of that god forsaken land? How many casinos do they have? Do they have any Olive Garden restaurants? How many people vacation there? Has a Miss Afghanistan ever been declared a Miss Universe? Any successful Formula 1 drivers from there? Name a Nobel laureate from Afghanistan. Name a famous piece of art from Afghanistan. Name anything non-rug or drug related that has been exported from that rocky hellhole. Is there any good Afghan food aside from braised goat’s testicles? Has anyone from that country ever accomplished anything apart from repelling invading super powers? Say one thing, Afghanistan is a great testing ground for MOABs and other munitions. Rocks bounce high. Shit, I would almost rather live in West Virginia.

Alright, here’s what I would do if I were you, Mr. Obama. Get our troops out and send Dick Cheney in there with his shotgun. Little Dick can try and make up for all but ignoring Afghanistan during those years he had us gallivanting off to Iraq. If we get lucky, he might just blow his own fool ass off! And don’t let him weasel out with his 6th deferment.

Monday, October 26, 2009

Space-aged Bachelor Pad

Ole Wheel Gun Bob was checking out his new bachelor pad this weekend. In case you haven’t heard, my ex-girlfriend has kicked me the fuck out of our house so I had to scramble to find a bridge to live under or a winter rental. Fortunately, I found the latter. It’s a totally swinging place too, right on a harbor. The Hot Chick Network (HCN) is already abuzz about it.

I’m taking my new status as a bachelor seriously. Been hitting the gym especially hard to make myself even more attractive to those with vaginas. Hell, in a couple months, when I’m finally under 300lbs, the chicky-boos will be swarming around me much like bugs do around an open flame. My sculpted Adonis like body will be a perfect complement to my bubbly personality. No worries on the opposite sex front for me!

When’s the first party at your new space-aged bachelor pad, Wheel Gun? The answer is, of course, the minute I move in! There is a bar right next door and I will endeavor to surreptitiously tap into their beer kegs. Free beer! And when I get tired of beer and babes, I can always fish right from my front lawn. God, life will be good.

Keep an eye on this blog for my official move-in date. House warming gifts will be not only be encouraged but expected. Here are some suggestions:

A crate of Trojans (XXL).

An extra liver.

A Nintendo Wii. Not for me since I don’t partake in such juvenile pursuits like video games. Just in case any kids visit.

New laptop. My old one is crap. I have free wireless at this place and need to work on my internet porn research. Windows 7 and at least 4 gigs RAM please. See my last hilariously informative blog for my take on Windows 7. [Ed. Note – We know full well that none of WGB’s friends can afford a single roll of toilet paper let alone a new laptop but just humor him since his mental state is somewhat off balance these days].

A Kimber Ultra Carry.45 automatic. It might seem like a rich, ritzy seacoast town but you never know what the crime rate is like.

An Esquivel! boxed set.

A fishing pole.

Friday, October 23, 2009

7 & 7 Is

In what is sure to inspire incontinence the world over, elephantine software titan Microsoft put it's latest operating system on sale to the general public today. Good thing I was able to locate my trusty butt plug in time. Since I am an IT fag, I will let you in on a few observations concerning Windows 7.

It is not a complete godawful cluster fucking mess like Visa was. Remember the blog I wrote about Vista when it first came out? I don't either but I'm sure it was hilarious, informative and poignant. The point is that the best thing W7 has going for it is that it is not Vista. Neither is cat shit but I wouldn't necessarily trust it to run my computer.

With W7, like Vista, you have to have a computer with serious bullocks in order to run half way decently when burdened by it. Unless you really enjoy staring into space for long periods of time while your hapless computer spins its wheels. Remember, less systems resources equals more time to fire one off so it might not be all that bad!

UAC – User account control. It’s the pain in the ass pop-up window that pops up anytime you do anything thing even remotely considered potentially harmful if done by a nefarious process. So it pops up more often than my dick would at a Victoria Secrets convention. Speaking of which, too bad humans don’t have a UAC that warns them when they are about to engage in possibly harmful activities. Like having sex without a rubber thingy on their John-Thomas. W7 has a slider control that can control the sensitivity of the UAC unlike Vista. I think it ranges from “annoying” to “complete pain in the balls.” I would just turn the fucker off completely. 

Windows 7 has some other bells and whistles but since most people I know just use their computers for email and porn surfing, I won’t comment on them. Of course since I work in a business environment I will have to delve into W7 in great detail and find out why it doesn’t work with any of our applications. I’m looking forward to that as I would to having my scrotum set ablaze.

My advice? Get a 2nd mortgage and put your sheckles down on a Mac. Hot chicks did Macs.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Enema Mine

I have a couple of minutes between shit cyclones here at work so I will beget for you a blog, my cyber children. Nothing special, mind you, just a standard fare random thoughts blog. Without further ado, prepare to be entertained/informed/horrified:

Obama’s enemies list – The crap feasting Republicans claim he has one. Why wouldn’t he? Enemies lists are as old as politics. I have an enemies list. It has 46 names on it all of which are my ex- girlfriend’s. Hell, she’s number 1 on my enema’s list since she is such a pain in the ass.

Baseball play offs – Who really cares? The damned Yankees will win it all. By the way, corpulent hurler C.C. Sabathia is getting so large I hear the National Guard wants him to disperse.

Kid in a balloon – Hear about the 6 year old who supposedly took off in a homemade mylar balloon? Man, when I was 6 I would’ve been psyched to fly away in a balloon. Actually I still want to. I wonder how much it would cost to make one. Shit, maybe I should lose more weight so it would be cheaper and I could get a hot chick to go with me.

Music – I was listening to the Blaster’s greatest hits on the way to the salt mines today. Jesus, that’s real Rock ‘n Roll. Check them out on YouTube. Why can’t you hear more music like that these days? Huh? Speaking of which, I am starting a new band. I will give details in my next few blogs.

I hear the winds howling. Another shit storm brewing. Gotta go.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

$5 Blow Jobs Ain't Too Funny

Whilst convalescing from my recent calamity, I have had a lot of time to reflect upon the state of this great nation of ours (“Oh shit,” I can hear you thinking out loud, “he's going to go on about politics”). So I will share some of my more profound thoughts with you. Just think, you won't need to pop a Valium to fall asleep.

Sarah Palin, the gift that keeps on giving, is coming out with a memoir entitled "Going Rogue: An American Life." It only took her a couple of months to “write” this book so I figure I can do the same in 15 minutes. “Going Ape Shit: A Far More Goddamned American Life” will be the title. It will feature a manly picture of me on the front cover sporting some serious weaponry. I will now provide some excerpts of this forthcoming autobiographical masterpiece for you lucky shits -

Chapter 1: My Mother's Vagina

Many wonder and rightfully so, where a man of such profound intrigue and passion came from. Well, I will tell you. My mothers vagina.

Chapter 4: My First Sexual Experience

I pretty much define male sexuality to be honest with you. And it all started when I was knee high to a shaver. Or a young grasshopper or some such metaphor. Yes, I was about three years old as the story goes according to my older sister. I saw an episode of I Love Lucy and apparently popped a big old woody the first time I caught a glimpse of Vivian Vance. Blew the fucking diaper into the next room so I'm told.

Chapter 13: The Drug Years

Heroin, cocaine, pot, LSD, 'shrooms, oxy, meth - I did 'em all. Or at least for the purposes of this idiotic book I did. My life story is so stupefyingly boring I gotta make some shit up. Just ask all the Penthouse models I screwed around with.

Chapter 17: Rock Bottom

The day I ran out of clean underwear, went commando and got my schlonger caught in a zipper. While I was at a rehab in Beverly Hills, that is. Almost forgot that part.

Chapter 18: Recovery and True Love

After getting tired of selling $5 blow jobs in the parking garage just so I could afford my next high, blah, blah, blah...

Sorry. You will have to purchase the book to find out the rest.

Wednesday, October 07, 2009

Squat and Face the Music

Life has decided to squat over me and let fly the fecal matter full force as of late. I know, its probably the chickens coming home to roost, reaping what I've sown or whatever. But I seriously am not sure where I will call home next month. For someone with such a tenuous grip on sanity, that's not good. And my soon to be ex-girlfriend can't wait to be rid of me. Seems I'm not perfect like she is. She is right about that.

But enough of this self pity. My job is to entertain and inform you, the masses, and make your damned day! So I will wipe off all the excreta, gather myself and perform my primary function, at least as far as you are concerned. On with it -

Despite my frail being, I actually ventured out the other night. My band was playing a benefit for the yearly city Halloween parade to pay for the insurance, police, etc. I arrived at 8PM as the first band on the bill was playing. My lead singer Tom asked me where our other guitar player and fill-in drummer were. I informed Tom that I had less of an idea of their whereabouts than that of of Amelia Earhart's. I also allowed as to how I was not their goddamned mother. The situation got critical after the first band finished and our missing members were still missing. Lots of people volunteered to drum for us including local legend Bruce Pingree. It didn't matter that none of them knew how to drum. But that never stopped us before even with Rodger!

The mislaid musicians did turn up eventually and we played our special brand of precision garage rock. The bad news was we each got tickets for free drinks but I couldn't partake due to my heavily medicated person. Tom had no problem being a pal and taking them off my hands. The good news was I got a date with a hot chick who was in attendance. Will wonders never cease?

Thursday, October 01, 2009

Repel The Invasion!

As if my pathetic situation weren't bad enough, I now have to deal with a badly swollen and painful big toe. The doctor thinks it might be a bone spur or chip and I have to go see a podiatrist for x-rays, etc. At first, I thought my doctor said “pud”diatrist. I told her that there ain't nothing wrong with my pud and I could prove it to her if need be (which would not have been difficult since she is so cute).

[Note: I went and saw the podiatrist late this afternoon after this blog was published. He gave me a shot of cortisone right into the joint. Jesusmotherfuckingchrist it hurt like a sumbitch!]

At least blogging will not further inflame my foot so here I go:

The enemy is back! It's Fall and all the satanic squirrels are at it again. Those of you who are smart enough to have followed my blogs over the years know that I have an on going battle with the neighborhood tree rats. I have a theory the furry little fuckers are super intelligent beings from outer space that are secretly trying to take over the planet. Well, Wheelgun Bob is on to them. Their mind control will not work on me even if I'm not wearing my special aluminum foil lined baseball cap. I refuse to let them flood my brain with images of cute little lovable furry animals. I know what they are in reality – a monstrous menace to our civilization!

I am devising a counter attack to save the Earth. I have purchased some sub-sonic .22s so the neighbors won't hear it when I fill mangy little squirrel ass with lead. I will endeavor to ferret out their lair and blow it the fuck up, along with their spacecraft, using the 5 pounds of black gun powder I bought for the job. I will lay waste to any transdimentional portals they may have constructed as well as any interdimensional communication devices. Then I will add insult to injury by eating all their nuts! It will show squirrel high-command back at whatever planet they are from not to fuck with us earthlings!

It's great to be clear minded and sane. Speaking of which, it's time for my meds. See you guys later.