tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4897132109863985882012-02-12T15:55:51.678-08:00Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.comBlogger1221100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-70376795839977234842011-11-18T13:38:00.001-08:002011-11-25T15:44:00.667-08:00

The written word has been losing a long battle with other mediums since the invention of television and other institutions which require "less thought."  Yet still, magazines thrive, as many people still enjoy them while waiting for the torture of dentistry, or the vain efforts of a hairdresser. It has always been a mild distraction, to be picked up in times of utter boredom--perhaps when the

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-64944555429252200432011-11-11T14:00:00.000-08:002011-11-11T14:51:42.021-08:00

Once upon a midday dreary, while I pondered Timothy Leary, Over many a droll and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I smoked, nearly coughing, suddenly there came a scoffing As of some one gently quaffing, quaffing at my very sores. 'Tis my mind,' I muttered, 'doffing the pain of my sores - Only this, and nothing more.' Ah, distinctly I remember it was the dead of Summer, And each

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-73505429850846719222011-11-07T20:37:00.000-08:002011-11-07T23:20:18.441-08:00

The crumbling graveyard of sitcom television fills with the cold winds of Autumn.  There are leaves there, blowing across the tombstones like so many leaflets from so many horrible reviews.  The tears of America grace the cheeks of the Nothing Generation, caught up in a world where entertainment no longer comes from the television.  Some would think that this would be a bad thing, but for guys

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-83832500592443976202011-07-24T17:27:00.000-07:002011-07-24T17:28:49.420-07:00

Note:  The following entry is a copy of Fernando Flores' self-edited diary entry.  All cross outs are taken directly from the original text, as apparently Mr. Flores has taken to self censoring himself for his upcoming lawsuit of Britney Spears.  All crude drawings were added by Mr. Flores himself and have been X'd out in attempt to further censor himself and facilitate the image that he is in no

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-62364680344350903692011-07-19T18:00:00.000-07:002011-07-19T18:10:20.466-07:00

If you're a 90's kid, at one point you probably liked Adam Sandler.  I know I remember seeing Billy Madison in theaters at some rich kids birthday part and loving it.  The highlight of the movie--at that time--was the dog shit scene, in which Adam Sandler and his pals hunt out a 'good piece of shit,' put it in a paper bag, and set it on fire on this dude's porch.  Soon an old man in his tighty

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-1755534916193645932011-07-10T18:45:00.000-07:002011-07-10T18:45:05.956-07:00

If you are going to a Juggalo Gathering, chances are you're probably a juggalo, or a friend of a juggalo, or just a wrestling freak looking to have a good time and the possibility to commit some real felonies.  I say probably, because these days there is an element of people who just go and take to the fringe of the Gathering, laughing and pointing at acts they find particularly stupid.  Like any

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-48498824340605779872011-06-06T21:15:00.001-07:002011-06-07T00:43:39.921-07:00

The gym had been prepared for an assembly the day prior, much to the anger of the basketball team, who now sat with everyone else in crowded quarters in chairs lined along the hardwood.  A slight murmur rose up in the gym, the majority of the conversation regarding the stage.  A stage had been built and housed nearly a dozen flags, and was flanked on all sides by red, white, and blue.  Large

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-31252983511759042652011-05-31T02:11:00.000-07:002011-06-07T00:46:13.689-07:00

The following blog is enhanced with Charles Barkley Quotes. TNT's Inside the NBA has always been an opinionated show that made no efforts to be otherwise; their show is one of few that basketball stars actually watch and generally enjoy, and such a policy has allowed its fog horn Charles Barkley plenty of opportunities to piss people off and/or make a fool of himself and therefore make the show

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-3091693796241392102011-05-30T00:17:00.000-07:002011-05-30T00:17:40.611-07:00

That sickness once believed to be a 'Jersey Thing' has crossed the mighty Atlantic and has germinated in, of all places, New Castle, England. It has infected a group of people along the River Tyne, people known as Geordies, who's accent was once declared "the most attractive in England," but to an American ear is unintelligible and entirely foreign sounding when drowned in alcohol.  Knowledgeable

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-40373570676873393382011-05-22T02:49:00.000-07:002011-05-22T02:49:49.549-07:00

The Sheen Estate in Sherman Oaks stirred with activity, though the head of the household still slept.  There was much to be done before Charlie Sheen woke: there were drugs to be prepared for easy ingestion; toast and his favorite jam to be laid out next to his bed, and a special blend of coffee was to be brewed fresh, with one and a half pours of milk mixed in, no sugar, absolutely no sugar.  He

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-16484944649440177392011-05-02T18:23:00.000-07:002011-05-02T18:30:43.818-07:00

I'm MattyB, I support playing on train tracks, chyeeah MattyB is eight years old, and he's a rapper/singer/dancer.  He's on Youtube, and all the normal people go AWWWW HOW CUTE.  I LOVE MATTYB.  Some are young, some are old, with kids of their own.  At the same time, from much similar burrows, the trolls go YOU SUCK MATTYB, GIVE IT UP KID.  Some are young, some are old, with kids of their own.

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-7665719867907849912011-04-29T07:01:00.000-07:002011-06-21T00:35:19.177-07:00

We are gathered here today. . . Light in through the colored panes of church windows. . . Bow your heads. . . The smell of polished pews. . . Come self-proclaimed 90's kids, you boob tube aficionados, you couch cushion jockeys. . . your prophet has arrived. Prepare the body of Christ. . . a bag of potato chips. . . Pour forth the blood of Christ. . . Coca-Cola. . . Its a shame loud T.V. . . [

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-70788491740520533342011-04-21T19:41:00.000-07:002011-06-20T23:33:36.632-07:00

It is a hot day, the sun already boring through the one hole of your hut, waking you.  It is to be another dreary day in the world of the internets, but you remember the beheading today.  You forget just exactly who it is this time, but know you could never turn down a good beheading. Skipping breakfast to ensure a good view you tend to your outward self in the mirror, and reassure your inner

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-9591746402559776692011-04-13T05:16:00.000-07:002011-04-13T05:22:20.325-07:00

Why's he touching it?  Why not? Iceland has got a dick house, and its got a new member.  By dick house, I mean not a restaurant specializing in variations on the dessert spotted dick, nor a shack home to a bunch of rude individuals, nor even an office with a plate glass window that says PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR, what I mean it really is a house of dick; of schlongs, of johnsons, of tallywackers.  

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-12516655610454625882011-02-23T06:00:00.000-08:002011-02-23T06:00:41.177-08:00

In regards to its retardation, I was all set to proclaim this movie one of the greatest ever; the final chapter of a trilogy the likes of which will never be surpassed again.  The Back to The Future of retarded films--a real accomplishment.  And I say this because of its concept--a black man dressing up like a fat old woman and loving it so much that not only does he find reasons to don this

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-7966022899988004082011-02-19T22:56:00.000-08:002011-02-19T23:22:07.533-08:00

The hard bed in the corner, with posters overhead and the light by the wall; a place to sleep.  Somehow, you can sleep on it.  Somehow you can dream, and the first few images wading in through the emptiness and fog are nostalgic and fun: I The familiar section of woods was there alright, with stones set in a circle about a fire pit.  Although it was night, the moon gave plenty of light and

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-14165755785195260832011-01-31T11:48:00.000-08:002011-01-31T11:48:19.764-08:00

Side note:  When Mike The Situation Sorrentino read his book aloud for MTV he cracked up at nearly every line.  Why?  Because it was the first time he read his own damn book he didn't even write. Better get the whiskey ready.  And smokes.  Plenty of smokes.  In regards to such endeavors its important to take them head on, with the right kind of a head on.  Not too fast, not too slow.  Just

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-86374823190662841032011-01-18T08:19:00.000-08:002011-01-18T08:19:13.303-08:00

I'm crying, really, I am. Well in case you didn't know already, there's a douche bag who goes by the name of Alan Griben, and he, along with the help of New South Books in Alabama are working together to revise Mr. Mark Twain's novel Advenutres of Huckleberry Finn, into a piece of politically correct fuff that tries not to reveal the ugliness of the word 'nigger' through narrative; instead it

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-52203357676786670142011-01-15T10:09:00.000-08:002011-01-15T10:10:09.451-08:00

The NBA has gone soft.  Lots of sports analysts and equally self-righteous individuals like to debate about it.  But I'm telling you: the NBA has gone soft.  The same association that produced guys like Charles Oakley, Larry Johnson (never mind the Granny persona), and Charles Barkley now has succumbed to fluff like Chris "Birdman" Anderson: all tats and no balls.  These times they are

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-18807555386658405392011-01-05T04:00:00.000-08:002011-02-10T15:36:03.084-08:00

In the movies teen werewolves are cool and play ball and can help the geek get the hot blonde chick who's as dumb as dirt but nonetheless looks good.  In real life... well... well, you'll see. Linda McSoapdish had a lovely home on Winchester Street, off General Custard Avenue, deep in the heart of San Antonio, Texas.  It was an old Victorian classic, with a small porch and a second floor turret

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-48873482240813032572011-01-02T20:02:00.000-08:002011-01-02T20:02:06.051-08:00

There are all the normal socially accepted ways of courting a woman, and then there's Hollywood.  The Great Show.  Modern Man's Aesop Fables. Why in Hollywood, sometimes the means by which the lead male snags the girl are downright retarded, as shit movies is big business: and business is good.  With the following list, you too can be a tard and still get the chick: RETARDED WAY TO GET A CHICK

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-19346174575358711562011-01-01T16:56:00.000-08:002011-01-02T02:16:39.907-08:00

Somewhere, some d-bag was spending his New Years packing his shit and cleaning out his desk: the picture of his wife and kids, the mesmerizing kinetic desk toy he got for Christmas, and frankly not much else.  All that was left was the fake Formica potted plant in the corner, which had collected dust in that very spot for fifteen years.  Fifteen years. And now because of this whole MTV New

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-39705146488129022402010-12-29T03:22:00.000-08:002010-12-30T02:08:49.704-08:00

MMMM CATSUP! SOMEWHERE IN A GALAXY NOT SO FAR FAR AWAY; a hop and a skip into the near future: cars still cannot fly. . . But the children do.  Lots of them do, from the yard to the playground, down paths laughing hysterically on the way to school or anywhere they can get their next salvia fix.  Yes:  salvia.  Salvia divinorum These children became the first components of a vast movement called

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-67402413297613559592010-12-08T18:04:00.000-08:002011-07-31T16:13:50.054-07:00

The only REAL ghost hunters... Everyone knows about the glitz and glamor of Las Vegas; the riches to be had, the clean hookers free of STD's and drug addiction to defile, the copious amounts of easy to get drugs and booze. . . But under the pretty glossy images lie grime and grit, caked blood and dried semen, all belonging to an entire breed of swine amalgamated in the flat lands of the desert.

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-14751472958312835072010-12-05T22:04:00.000-08:002011-06-21T03:04:09.825-07:00

Yao Ming was crafted in a Chinese factory, and like so many products that are 'MADE IN CHINA' he breaks easily. . . He was made by a mad scientist, just like Marry Shelley's Dr. Frankenstein, named Dr. Xiu.  The good doctor had taken a recently deceased Chinese man and brought him to his factory under the cover of night. With this specimen he not only planned to create new life, but also new

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-66433758379192024512010-12-04T00:14:00.000-08:002011-06-21T03:22:27.459-07:00

Marv Albert was born Marvin Philbert Aufrichtig in 1941.  At the time Great Britain and France were at war with Germany, and his parents owned a little grocery store named after their last name Aufrichtig, a German word that can be loosely translated to 'devout or honest.'  Though this may have been a fitting name for their grocery store, it hardly was fitting for their son Marvin, for he would

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-90174473754419541392010-12-02T15:30:00.000-08:002010-12-02T16:22:58.822-08:00

Snookie is an orange smurf who is famous for being a retard.  She can be seen on the MTV Show Jersey Shore. The Bruce Springsteen Auditorium had filled to a capacity the likes of which had not been seen since Bruce Springsteen was there to christen the establishment.  People from all over New Jersey had come to hear an exclusive preview of Snookie of Jersey Shore's new book.  Of course

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-20642366371182654582010-12-02T14:48:00.000-08:002010-12-02T14:55:10.667-08:00

The street glittered in the rain.  It sucked moisture and spit it out as the four wheels of a car ran parallels through the streets.  Burn Rubber. SHWWHSSH.  The downpour hammered cold, and in response the streets had been abandoned for the warmth of the dry indoors; the hookers and drug dealers that had made the area so unpopular were nowhere to be seen.  All life had been drowned that night.

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-90274026226485127042010-11-21T05:07:00.000-08:002010-11-21T05:22:46.720-08:00

Fourloko is frat fuel: a highly energized alcoholic drink that allows gay frat orgies to extend throughout the night and well into the wee hours of the morning; Fourloko's high provides all of the uninhibitedness of booze with all the rising waves of uncomfortable energy and sleeplessness that come from any good upper.   Cause you can never get enough man love, right? Right. And with that said,

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-54197334936739461612010-11-19T03:55:00.000-08:002010-11-19T03:55:44.158-08:00

I am an HBO snob who rarely if ever watches commercial television. Wanna know why?  All the retarded commercials: 1) FLO - PROGRESSIVE INSURANCE Oh god that ugly YESSS face. Yeah, I'm sure you like tacos... beef tacos... furry beef tacos.  I don't know what it is about these commercials that irk me so.  Maybe its her every pore oozing dumb and happy and completely uncaring of that fact, or the

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-39748266501949094822010-11-13T19:33:00.000-08:002010-11-14T12:25:56.147-08:00

If you attend a baseball game and Zack Hample happens to be there, he'll be the guy clutching four or five baseballs to his chest, watching the game with all the intent of a real baseball fan.  But he's not watching the game.  No, he's not concerned with runs batted in or winners or losers; he's in it for the balls.  Yes, the balls, observe: "I'm trying to outsmart actual major leaguers and get

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-2731591433741645712010-11-13T14:47:00.000-08:002010-11-13T14:47:13.640-08:00

Jon Lovitz and his only fan. Scrappy was an alley cat, who in his career had won over fifty fights with other felines.  He had lost an eye in battle, along with two inches from the end of his tail.  He was a noble cat, though now old, who called one particular alley in Hollywood his home. Jon Lovitz was a troll with thinning hair, an expanding waste line and a voice forever tuned to annoying.  

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-27809358855607691072010-11-07T16:42:00.000-08:002010-11-07T16:42:39.759-08:00

The USDA defines bacon as the 'cured  belly of a swine carcass.'  It is made by taking a pig and killing it, slitting its throat and allowing the blood to drain from its person, after which the belly meat is trimmed off (prized for its fattiness,) and is most often cured, either through a smoking process or a brine.  When cooked, the result is delicious bacon. America, being vain yet fat, fat yet

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-89178158235313364642010-11-05T12:49:00.000-07:002010-11-05T12:49:26.773-07:00

iR story #1 iR story #2 Fragments.  Fragments of insanity just like the inner workings of Randy's mind: look. 1 Rats can be quite a delicacy when done right.  The biggest problem is the fur.  Most of the time this can be done away with with a good burning, but when in hiding, smoke can be the biggest detractor of concealment. If you have a knife you can skin it.  Or you can boil it.  Most of

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-44025028804195126092010-11-01T14:33:00.000-07:002010-11-01T15:02:00.981-07:00

AUTHORS NOTE:There have been many battles against ICP, for their enemies are many. Their most recent entanglements have been with 'the scientists,' who in their eyes ruin all the magic in the world with their logic and common sense. Many a historian has transcribed their battles in lengthy texts, most of which the ICP have never seen, for many still know not how to read.  The following tale isn't

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-80051414453366584402010-10-31T13:39:00.000-07:002010-10-31T13:39:32.155-07:00

infinitely Retarded, now with more pictars! Today kiddies, our fable is about beauty. Specifically how it fades.  A harsh working of nature, it is a calamity we all must face, but for some vanity cannot be so easily shed. . . as you will soon discover in a tale of tragic retardation I like to call (for the sake of time under such uncreative circumstances):  'Working Title.' Remember Nikki Cox?

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-58483130412626757922010-10-15T21:44:00.000-07:002010-10-15T22:07:33.450-07:00

Sit your child upon your knee.  Warm by the comfort of the fire.  Hear it crackling?  Its almost as if upon the edge of its warmth one finds safety, whereas outside of its reach, in the dark, there exists only cold and discomfort.  Move closer.  Keep safe.  Don't worry little lass, ICP won't get you, they're scared of the dark too.  Better still.  Better move close. Safe.  The young mind and

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-25783705094082894682010-10-12T18:05:00.000-07:002010-10-13T00:33:39.053-07:00

We be spendin' most our lives livin' in a gangsta's paradise Aristotle. . . Paulo Freire. . . Confucius. . . Michele Pfeiffer. . .  All of them teachers, all of them with their contributions to generations of young minds fertile yet not yet planted with the seeds of wisdom.  Some had to overcome a government wanting poor people to stay illiterate and in turn powerless. . . Others had to listen to

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-19344582770530524232010-10-07T15:52:00.000-07:002010-10-07T15:52:32.663-07:00

Jeff Van Gundy was declared legally retarded upon birth.  He came out all cries and slime, a disgusting discolored thing sprung forth from the crevice of a woman who upon seeing him found him to be the biggest regret in her life.  He had eyes like a bullfrog, with a head squished in on both sides, and when he cried bubbles of unknown substances foamed about his curled lips; a physical reminder of

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-17511905935999570542010-10-01T16:23:00.000-07:002010-10-01T17:00:20.984-07:00

I make lots of money entertaining people by running around on a hardwood court throwing an orange ball around and putting it in the hoop. If I don't have the ball, I get the ball.  When someone throws up a clanker, I'm all over the boards and ready to swallow up the orange and look for the outlet pass. When I play, everyone makes money.  Nike. Gatorade.   Even your average gambler or two.  Its

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-76727482333416331272010-10-01T00:00:00.000-07:002010-10-01T00:36:59.737-07:00

Becky Stevenson was always the model student; her grades far exceeded her social skills, and in class she was always silent unless called upon.  Generally regarded as disgusting by her peers, she had no friends and thusly walked the sullied halls of Washing High School a specter, a pale ghost with pigtails, glasses, and a way of hunching in her shoulders that made her look even smaller and more

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-68357091545540206622010-09-24T14:57:00.000-07:002010-09-24T14:57:54.135-07:00

Although this indictment has been a long time coming, I have looked at that initial idea of writing it with scornful eyes, for even the most vile of shit talking would promote this royal d-bag, and promoting this d-bag is the last thing I would ever want to do.  And although I have long since ignored it, this particular d-bag has some how finagled his way from Youtube star to Nickelodeon star,

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-35105662715631450822010-09-17T21:20:00.000-07:002010-09-17T21:20:43.041-07:00

Kim Kardashian was generally a no one with famous/wealthy parents who got into all the fancy parties and 'get togethers,' effectively using the success of those who bore her to catapult her somewhere into 'the scene.'  She basically went around dating people with power and money (even married and divorced one,)  until a sex tape was released with her having sex with R&B singer Ray J, making her

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-69536033344660767762010-09-15T00:29:00.000-07:002010-09-26T22:41:32.611-07:00

The following could easily be stated as the reasons why Encino Man is a bad movie, but it is very much like that famous and over used quote, its all how you look at it. 1.  Samwise Gamgee and His Quest to Become Popular You know. . . that hobbit fuck who totally had a hobbit chub for Elijah Wood.  Well before that he tried to become the most popular boy in the entire world. . . Hey Stoney,

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-18603829440747524412010-09-14T19:53:00.000-07:002010-09-26T22:43:47.670-07:00

These days, if you visit TLC headquarters in Silver Spring, Maryland, you probably won't even notice the building's highly stylized sign (great work Julio,) what with all the families camping in front of it: families of various different sizes but all bordering on bat shit insane.  If anything they're more like clans than mere families, with cousins upon cousins and sons upon sons and daughters

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-68079479579263878272010-09-11T15:44:00.000-07:002010-09-11T15:44:07.412-07:00

20% off?  Daddy like. Rip Torn is old enough to have witnessed the Prohibition Era in America. Although he was only two when it finally ended and the speakeasies came up from underground, he was right there with everyone else, hooting and hollering, and generally praising a world flowing with booze.  In fact, there are tales that he drank a lot of people under the table that day even though he

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-69669981002347823112010-09-07T16:20:00.000-07:002010-09-07T16:20:50.343-07:00

Talent contests in small towns are quite funny, in that often they produce winners with heads far too big for their necks to hold.  Living so close to Hollywood, you see these types all the time, in fact they come in on buses called "The American Dream" down long black roads called 'Down and Out Blvd' and 'Nowhere Street.'  They're so blinded they don't even notice all the dirty people on the

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-14376470924959365482010-09-03T11:54:00.000-07:002010-09-03T11:54:21.651-07:00

Mike The Situation Sorrentino is an elegant man when describing the hunt, he's kind of like a hunter of exotic animals who waxes romantic about his acts, even though in reality he's a vile, wretched, soul killer. He's like the Shakespeare of sleaze, and like Shakespeare, he sometimes needs a translation. . . On the last episode of Jersey Shore, the gang found themselves at yet another club (as

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-45663809419313014072010-09-03T00:00:00.000-07:002010-09-26T17:46:04.463-07:00

The following, one might state as the reasons why The Adventures of Pluto Nash is the worst movie perhaps ever made, but it is like they say: its all how you look at it. 1.  Jay Mohr Singing in a Fucking Kilt whats the use of havin' religion First of all, when starting a movie, its important to build up some tension, or at least get the audience excited a little.  For Pluto Nash, this means Jay

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-9554166545673764032010-09-02T13:37:00.000-07:002010-09-02T16:41:10.040-07:00

Fuck you, steroids. Everyone just about knows all about The Expendables by now, but if you don't I'll catch you up real quick: its an homage to everything badass about action movies. Its an atom bomb of death and destruction scorching through the sky with a fiery anus and a crew of everyone's favorite action stars: Sylvester Stallone, Jason Statham, Dolph Lungren, Mickey Rourke, Jet Li, Bruce

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-29801611289573711202010-09-01T14:45:00.000-07:002010-09-11T17:45:40.317-07:00

Durr, I had a note pinned to my chest, but I lost it. Ever see the eyes of a dead or dying dog? David Arquette has these eyes, that is unless of course, he is watching professional wrestling.  The spectacle brings back that silly grin, all teeth and bulging bug eyeballs.  It reminds him of when he was a kid, when it was generally okay to be retarded because it could easily be pawned off as lack

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-53136660036905756422010-08-19T16:48:00.000-07:002010-09-26T22:45:14.543-07:00

Randy and Evi's first adventure can be read here.   They're laughing at the judicial system. In April, Randy and Evi Quaid ran out on a hotel bill in California, and a court case much like a circus ensued, as Randy with a Santa's beard, and Evi with the eyes of a demented bird fought against their accusers. Golden Globes were presented as witnesses and were spoken to by Evi, and although no one

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-42232729758650211432010-08-16T22:00:00.000-07:002010-09-26T22:45:56.367-07:00

There's nothing like a torture chamber to bring two people together: the constant drilling eating away at enamel like sugar only a million times faster, the patients and their blinking eyes full of terror, much like a cornered rat, the cold clinical feel of steel.  . .  Its precisely the sort of torture dungeon in which Mr. Rick Bynes met a lovely little dental assistant named Lynn Organ, over

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-26552437047150078952010-08-11T22:26:00.000-07:002010-08-11T22:26:19.353-07:00

Retards like to stick together, in fact, I'd be mighty pressed to tell you which of the two is the bigger egomanic, Carlos Zambrano or Erik Estrada, but for the sake of this iR, we'll say its Erik Estrada. Erik Estrada strolls through the supermarket, another everyday shopper tending to his everyday needs.  He is hassled only by the occasional employee asking him if he needs any help, to which

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-77260434284918967792010-08-10T14:04:00.000-07:002010-09-26T22:47:59.453-07:00

This blog has been inspired by the fact that the other day I happened by Subway and had me a meatball sub.  To my surprise, Fred Durst was the poor bastard making my sandwich.  No, not really, but it sounds funny anyway.   Gastonia, North Carolina is a beautiful county, home to long stretches of nature's beauty.  Its wealth is apparent, seen right down to the silk US flags draping as large as

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-63299448606512335292010-07-27T13:24:00.000-07:002010-07-27T13:33:19.922-07:00

The following blog has been enhanced with photos of dudes who look like Kathy Griffin. Kathy Griffin has a joke that goes like this: "Here is my perspective on the Taylor Swift/Kanye West incident.  Which has become a global incident, that even the President has weighed in on. Which is so genius because the President actually called Kanye a 'jackass', which is kind of funny. . . Alright now (

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-56832956633969786092010-07-26T17:10:00.000-07:002010-07-26T23:46:00.071-07:00

What's baseball?  I'm so pretty.  Aren't I pretty?  Tell me I'm pretty. When gay marriage was a hot topic, Danielle Staub not only claimed that she was gay, but that she was an active member of the community, and for over thirty years.  She claimed a relationship with another woman, but wouldn't come out completely about the details, and furthermore never really 'came out,' stating that she

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-36707456108800339062010-07-21T17:12:00.000-07:002010-07-21T17:12:00.140-07:00

It is just writing.  You should try it sometime.  Its really nice sometimes. Just let it go.  No, I never met Gary Busey, or his ex-wife, don't be silly. No, none of this ever happened.  But its really nice sometimes.  You should try it. Look: A weekend with Gary Busey is a harrowing experience. For instance when I first met him he asked me if I wanted a mixed drink: I assumed he meant

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-13964083281951693282010-07-16T19:02:00.000-07:002010-09-26T22:49:30.840-07:00

*The following blog has been enhanced with FUN MEL GIBSON FACTS. Had The Great Gatsby been written by Hunter S. Thompson instead of F. Scott Fitzgerald, East Egg would have not only been opulent, but it would have been drowned in alcohol, scattered with various different drugs, and overrun with Goddamn bats.  Hunter S. Thompson's version would be very much like the place Lindsay Lohan grew up in

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-86411650902117103642010-07-09T13:57:00.000-07:002010-07-09T16:10:25.965-07:00

The original reads:  When I look at myself, I'm not representing LeBron now.  I'm representing the league, the city of Akron, the city of Cleveland. . . I'm not going to disappoint anybody." Now that LeBron James is in Miami, the throngs of retards who followed this long debacle can finally change their dirty drawers and wipe the drool from their mouths.  Ridiculous, if you ask me.  The whole God

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-10218523863047504342010-07-06T14:10:00.000-07:002010-07-06T21:04:02.091-07:00

Baseball use to be a game of true heroes: of regular Joes who had jobs on the side and were generally well respected by everybody.  They didn't have to worry about wandering the streets in fear of being recognized and mauled for autographs or photos or anything like that, or even worse, the wrath of some die hard fan of an opposing team just set on sticking it to em good.  They were average in

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-10390364443977068462010-06-19T23:18:00.000-07:002010-06-19T23:18:24.464-07:00

If you peel back the yellowed pages of history, you will see that sometimes human seed shouldn't scatter about like blown dandelions (make a wish now;) sometimes it shouldn't scatter about at all. Look: Mr. Barney O'Field Bridges hugs the damp earth of a foxhole as all the world shatters around him, scattering in explosions of sulphur (red-orange,) of dirt (brown,) and of human bone (white, dust.

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-16255806507518033702010-06-12T18:25:00.000-07:002011-06-21T02:33:06.297-07:00

The collective nothingness that is Canada breathes in; cold air. Breathes out; warm, white like cotton candy. . . A lone Canadian in jack boots stands in a foot of muck rigid as a flag pole, saluting his great nation's flag with a pride that can only come from a true hockey-loving Canadian with maple syrup running through his veins. . . A dying bar serves frothy beers to ugly men with ugly teeth,

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-9414675528398871792010-05-31T16:59:00.000-07:002010-05-31T17:22:03.861-07:00

The feeling of gloves was a welcomed one.  The sound they made, his hands taped and inside them.  Nice.  Tight.  Quick.  His walk out to the ring was slow and deliberate, and at the moment those gloves felt just like sledgehammers, and he was ready to do some damage with them.  Be cool now.  Along the way he'd hop about to get the blood flowing.  The crowd acknowledged him and cheered him and he

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-54232531605652193172010-05-29T00:45:00.000-07:002010-05-29T00:48:21.592-07:00

Wearing a fur suit use to be something pimple faced nerds and thirty something pedophiles did to entertain snot nosed kids and make a little bit of money, but these days it has taken on a perversion far worse than clown fucking, or pedophilia.  It involves fur suits, something called 'yiffing' and the people who love them both.  These retards, know as furries (or simply furrytards) are

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-39525925013582063212010-05-25T13:11:00.000-07:002010-05-25T13:14:48.159-07:00

In an effort to branch out and showcase the everyday lives of NBA stars, the National Basketball Association felt it fit to select a certain number of superstars and film them and their activities.  TBS graciously offered a time slot, and soon a loving relationship was born.  The show in question, titled "Crybabies" will be coming to TBS: Very Funny, this summer! Lets meet the cast of Crybabies,

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-32920885881895702472010-05-21T16:34:00.000-07:002010-05-21T16:52:30.266-07:00

In the concrete jungle, grown men like monkeys swing from lamp poles, releasing into mid-air twists over benches; leapfrog from building to building, sometimes bridging 20 foot gaps; gallop down rooftops on all fours and run up walls.  They are members of an elite pedigree of human savagery, they are freerunners, or tracuers (male) traceuse (female.) Their game is parkour, a sort of poor man's

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-34641343052720766992010-05-09T15:46:00.000-07:002010-05-09T16:13:41.436-07:00

Aint nothing in the world that can't be fixed by a fresh bowl of meth amphetamine.  It can make you forgive that time in your life when you fell in love with the surgeon's blade; it can help you look at yourself without really looking.  It makes it easy not to realize everything in your life is phony, including your prized silicone breasts.  It also helps if you're fucking retarded, as is Miss

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-90725534824118239792010-05-09T15:45:00.001-07:002010-05-09T16:15:25.405-07:00

By noon the men outside are already dripping with sweat.  Tired yet knowing their work is far from finished, they break only for lunch.  They eat outside near their unfinished work, some too tired to even clear a space out on the ground. "You know."  One of them says, looking up from his sandwich.  His eyes are bright amongst a dirt stained face.  Its wrinkled from time spent out in the sun.  "

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-43573384348521220562010-05-07T21:01:00.000-07:002010-05-07T21:02:38.933-07:00

The underbelly of Louisiana is a dirty one.  Its swamps and bogs are home to alligators, bats, rabid raccoons, and venomous snakes.  The very trees are perfect for wasp nests, its practically a death pit for the untrained. . . Luckily the world of vermin has a ferocious natural enemy with 21 years of experience under his belt:  Billy the Exterminator.  This guy: Criss Angel meets Brett

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-90902915124069400352010-04-05T21:01:00.000-07:002010-04-14T01:18:05.739-07:00

A lot of people have said that Sarah Silverman is where she is today because she is one of only a handful of women willing to drop to her knees and suck Jimmy Kimmel's dick. . . This simply is not true: she's willing to suck anyone's dick for a job.Born December 1, 1970, Sarah Silverman is a "comedian," "writer," "actress," "singer," and musician (the upright skin flute.) Her career started

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-64867103061599068092010-04-04T21:42:00.000-07:002010-04-04T21:42:34.589-07:00

Lumbering through the brush, a giant among insects, the beast looks for a meal. It knows no fear, for its strength is unmatched, and it knows no other creature to be stronger. All enemies have fallen, and all prey has served to further its blood lust. As strong as it is, within it a sadness swells, a certain humiliation which it tries to ignore, but it cannot. Like a lump it sits in its

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-36663468766054049072010-04-01T00:00:00.000-07:002010-04-04T20:31:16.221-07:00

God had been kind to the Heder family, He had given them six children, two of which were particularly special. Aside from their brothers and sisters, these two were identical twins, one of whom happened to be Jon Heder. Jon was born in 1977 making him today in 2010, 33 years old, but if you were to look at him you'd struggle to decree him even old enough to drink. A Mormon and devote follower

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-25976500609077657912010-03-25T18:11:00.000-07:002010-03-27T13:42:09.989-07:00

From coast to coast, through the empty lands in between, a human tide rolls despite the wind, the season, despite the very year, rolls on pigheadedly with weapons that can gleam like diamonds with the press of a button and have the power to capture souls -- or so the Indians thought. These men, this human tide, differ from others in the 'soul capturing' business, in that they have no morality

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-73052245478427613602010-03-23T10:04:00.000-07:002010-03-23T10:09:44.591-07:00

Tacoma, Washington, a town so attractive its main venue for entertainment is the Museum of Glass: an architectural feat made up of and dedicated to the medium of glass; a town useless except for the abundant amounts of oil found underground; a town famous for being the birthplace of Terapon Adhahn, a convicted sex offender who abducted, raped, and murdered a girl named Amber -the Amber-who later

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-85358432534971458732010-03-18T22:13:00.001-07:002010-11-03T12:46:22.397-07:00

In the halls of justice, where the heavy axe of democracy swings. . . Where wooden benches like church pews sit gazing blindly into the golden eyes of an eagle emblazoned on the belly of the judge's bench. . . Randy Quaid undergoes trial. I sit between a greedy writer and an obese man, the latter of which is even now sneaking nibbles on a breakfast pastry. I can smell it, the sugar I mean,

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-1374099364159439702010-03-15T10:24:00.000-07:002010-03-15T14:46:08.972-07:00

or; Meet Melkor and Mark Sinclar VincentThrough the dastardly vines barbed with lashing spines; in the deepest thickets of hairy jungle, four brave warriors tangle with the harsh environment, carrying on despite Mother Nature's cruelty. Driven by immortality, they cut through greenery vicious in nature and wicked by design. Melkor leads the crew of collected hopefuls, a blade in one hand, a bow

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-62522785236414026982010-03-07T14:24:00.000-08:002010-03-07T22:40:17.761-08:00

The Early Years; or The Cookie Cutter KingdomSome celebrities are so big and frivolous with money that they, like sharks attract parasites that gladly feed off of their leftovers; pilotfish and human chancre sores who without the benefit of such a lovely relationship would be down the drain and off to sea - bye-bye. Adam Sandler is one such shark in the douchey waters of Hollywood, and his

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-9968166353333630732010-02-22T19:04:00.000-08:002010-02-27T22:15:10.627-08:00

Bas Rutten is 205 pounds of dangerous retardation. He's a human Swiss army knife with an array of tools all designed to hurt other men. He can dull meat and tear tendons. He can make a man tap in seconds - he can also ignore it and squeeze the life out of him, right to his very last breath. He's a 2nd degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do, and a 5th degree black belt in Kyokushki Karate, but most

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-91050451137536255442010-02-09T20:32:00.000-08:002010-02-12T10:22:18.193-08:00

A strange party in the dust bowl that is Bakersfield, California, where dreams come to die. Its a town of a certain breed, too retarded to realize their lands bare no fruit; to legalize gambling like Vegas and realize desert people are generally deranged. Although its not quite a desert, its far from the lights of Hollywood, the genius of Silicone Valley, and even farther from liberal San

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-56713112469567861252010-02-06T00:15:00.000-08:002010-02-07T20:31:23.607-08:00

*Sometimes life runs parallels. So don't get confused, its three tiers twisted together like a fuckin' Twizzler.After the 'incident at McDonald's' involving one Ashton Kutcher throwing a temper tantrum after finding out that the soda machines were out of his favorite sugar drink, fruit punch, Demi Moore took to fashioning Ashton with his very own kiddie leash. It was the very same one she used

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-75873186151307207092010-01-21T18:18:00.001-08:002010-02-04T16:12:25.550-08:00

If you've ever seen Dirty Jobs then you know the host has gone and done some real disgusting work - things some people willingly do daily, for a living (no, there are no episodes about making a name for yourself in Hollywood, though surely some of the most vile things have been carried out in the name of such a pursuit.) And while for Mike Rowe, the show's host, all the dirtiness ends when the

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-74896315712965261042009-12-31T12:29:00.000-08:002010-01-03T15:58:01.272-08:00

In 1916, The Jersey Shore was plagued with a string of deadly shark attacks, from a shark said to be a man eater hellbent on eating Jersey kids. Yellowed newspapers from the time tell of a monster born in the darkest depths of the ocean, a creature fat with the meat of thousands of seals, a finned demon with razor sharp teeth and a lust for eating bigger, larger creatures like humans. People

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-62126788419711594552009-12-19T14:50:00.000-08:002009-12-23T18:39:56.056-08:00

At E3 they called James Cameron out to talk about Avatar. The point of the presentation was to show off the video game and give the people a taste of what it was all about, from the man who wrote every little word of it. What followed was a 45 minute dissertation that bored the entire audience, and started like this:"Avatar is a movie about a race of 9 foot tall blue fish people. . ."And ended

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-74893484782066007502009-12-16T21:05:00.000-08:002009-12-17T01:09:41.965-08:00

Tiger Woods circles the green, judging the land with his expert eyes. He bends down for a closer look, hands cupping the sides of his hat to block out his peripherals. He finds the lay of the land and frowns. Getting up he circles the green another time like a vulture circling for its prey."So whattaya think Tiger?" His caddy asks. "Looks like its sloping down and about ten clicks to the left

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-77484763476563539582009-12-02T14:27:00.000-08:002009-12-08T11:31:19.401-08:00

*Warning, contains the racist thoughts of one Duane "Dog" Lee Chapman.In 2007, A&E, desperate for ratings decided to sign with Duane Chapman, Dog the Bounty Hunter. What followed was years of success, as epic retards flocked to their televisions and watched white trash hunt white trash. What makes Dog so successful?Well, lets take a look at the family tree, shall we?There's Dog, the head of the

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-55207710885868672252009-12-01T15:38:00.000-08:002009-12-01T14:07:08.888-08:00

Leather Face or Big Momma? You decide.Hattie Mae Pierce (Big Momma) adjusts herself in the mirror, tending to whatever she deems out of place with two hands like glove mitts. Inside of her, a black man sweats, not just from the heat but from the beauty he is gazing at - and through her very own eyes! Owl eyes. Beautiful. Finding herself acceptable, she wattles out through the door, adjusting

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-3065468343024049692009-11-19T23:47:00.001-08:002009-11-26T08:07:20.679-08:00

The Great Plains states, that is to say from the Dakotas to Oklahoma, those which were once home to herds of giant buffalo, are now home to a different stampeding wild beast, one which similarly isn't particularly bright, and when assembled together in large groups can be just as dangerous and destructive. And although they've been known to roam the Midwest and its neighboring states, there are

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-36667131156177199092009-11-13T01:50:00.001-08:002009-11-16T02:59:24.319-08:00

Now for all of this to make sense, one much watch:Police Report No. 5952Deputy Alex Barron75th Precinct, Los AngelesSuspect was apprehended at approximately 3:30 a.m. at the Twelve Oaks Retirement Center, Los Angeles. Elders at the home had reported hearing strange noises, as if someone was in the building with them. Between 1 A.M. and the time of his arrest, Kutcher reportedly photographed and

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-67281867716552938912009-11-07T01:36:00.001-08:002009-11-19T23:39:47.605-08:00

A&E Documents the Workings of a Dangerous Retard; Seagal vs. Norris in a Battle Between Martial Artists Gone T.V. Cop "Do I look like I'm deep in thought about an investigation involving the horrible murder of a poor innocent woman (angering me so I feel to clutch my weapon,) a case that I just know I'm about to solve. . . yeah? Ok cause that's totally what I was going for. . . Do we need more

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-78684394165878963982009-11-02T05:46:00.000-08:002009-11-02T05:57:47.692-08:00

Jeff Dunham has been a ventriloquist for as long as he can remember.If you have the distinct pleasure of being shown pictures from his childhood, you will find that he's seen clutching a ventriloquist dummy in nearly every photo. Even more apparent is the look on his parent's faces, a sort of utter embarrassment and sadness that both of them shared equally, one which seemed to intensify and grow

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-20775183392955423662009-11-01T14:41:00.000-08:002009-11-01T16:03:19.606-08:00

On February 8th, 1974 Barbara Green gave birth to what she thought was a healthy baby boy. He only weighed three and a half pounds at birth, a tiny crying little thing who despite his low birth weight, was not born premature. By the age of ten he was three feet tall, weighing only fifty pounds. By sixteen he was three feet tall, five inches, and weighed seventy-five pounds. From then on, he

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-5018175800035632122009-10-23T13:11:00.000-07:002009-11-19T23:40:25.874-08:00

The Human Billboard doing what he does best. The first day Rob Dyrdek showed up, he was dressed head to toe in DC, a walking billboard. I wondered what it was about this pogo stick from Ohio that made a company want to choose him to be the face of their entire business. But then I remembered the skating. Oh yeah, the skating. But that's how it is with a lot of skaters, if it weren't for

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-42160101462948220582009-10-16T12:22:00.000-07:002009-11-19T23:40:44.207-08:00

The beast is awakened from her slumber by an inner turmoil, a need to write. Sliming her way out of bed, quietly, as to not disturb her husband, she evades the cold with a house coat and slips her feet into some cosy house shoes. She finds relief at her keyboard, where she types out all her porn fantasies brimming with luring vampires lurking in the dark, mysterious and dangerous and beautiful

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-22106493868124975592009-09-29T02:48:00.000-07:002009-10-21T13:20:43.705-07:00

Co-Writs Daniel RasmussenThe truth is David Blaine used his magical mind powers to brainwash a sting ray into stabbing Steve Irwin in the heart. . . It was a murder driven by jealousy. . . He's the Aquaman of Murder.David Blaine is an illusionist, which is really just a grown up word for magician - given to old and aging magicians who would otherwise be considered "pathetic" in the already

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-26703610967358812812009-09-22T02:37:00.000-07:002009-10-21T13:21:36.348-07:00

Persecuted self-mutilator: The Smoker"What derogation of self, what sin greater than sss-smoking? Than the tobacco man? He'll kill babies and take ladies, and won't bat a single eyelash. Just a gilded rose for your tombstone and leash to wrap around your now orphaned children. . . And his consumers. . ." Shawn Caputo swallowed thick cause he just couldn't stand the very idea of them. He was

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-66234585489314651832009-09-21T15:28:00.001-07:002009-09-23T05:38:39.447-07:00

After learning about a particular "dis" blog aimed at myself and an associate here at the iR offices, it appeared to me to be a challenge. A challenge, to not only retort in such a way, a particular hate monger would never again utter such hate towards us, but embarrass her greatly. For if she did the wrath of Mr. Jones: Infinitely Retarded Vol. 2 would be far worse than what you are about to

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-14076126255822149512009-09-11T02:46:00.001-07:002009-09-11T06:39:05.456-07:00

The tickets arrived a week before the scheduled event, giving me plenty of time to debate whether or not to go. By Wednesday I had decided to go, and spent the rest of the days leading up to the event mentally preparing for the utter retardation I knew was ahead of me. The event was a private screening of an upcoming Stallone movie, a sequel entitled Rhinestone 2.Rhinestone was an 80's piece of

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-26918776657366164012009-09-04T22:08:00.000-07:002009-09-09T18:50:40.204-07:00

The first Dodger game I ever attended, I was rather young, young enough to hardly remember the details of the game, and young enough to have been so antsy and impatient and so unfamiliar with the game of baseball that my brother and father and I left after only three innings. We were in right field and playing right in front of us was the right fielder for the Oakland Athletics, a bright faced

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489713210986398588.post-23079216346622174092009-08-30T11:45:00.000-07:002009-09-03T12:45:12.945-07:00

Who is Jeff Goldblum?What. . . is Jeff Goldblum?This past week I set out to answer these questions, but there's very little to be found about him on the internet. Jeff Goldblum is very much like a ghost; whenever celebrities start dying off, Jeff Goldblum gets thrown into the mix, like some hopeful journalist out there thinks that if he writes of Jeff's death, it'll come true. For a while there

Mt. Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10056247666864225302noreply@blogger.com2