Captions Are Easy

In Japan, denim engineers have made finding a girl’s cooter quicker and more efficient. Domo ari-fucking-gato.

Why We Love Mexicans

Elsa Benitez. That’s it. See you soon, kids..

 

Captions Are Easy!

We were going to make some hilarious joke about a fat woman being a whale, or some fat celebrity (us) riding down to save all sea creatures from an oil soaked death, but we’re tired. Tired of the heat. Tired of hot broads hitting on us. Tired of burning piles of money for enjoyment. So now it’s your turn. Leave captions as comments. Or don’t.

Now we’re off to bang hot ladies on piles of ash that once used to be money. It’s an even more erotic version of that scene in 101 Dalmatians.

- C&J

I’m not sure what made white people think we could tell other races what to do. Being white isn’t all that great. We tend to produce people like this, this or this. For any white person to say someone else shouldn’t be in this country is pretty hypocritical. Remember these guys? However, I just want all our Mexican readers to know we’re not all dicks. For some ungodly reason white people seem to screw everything up. This is why the situation in Arizona pisses me off so much.

A law is in litigation in Arizona which basically usurps power from the federal level and makes it the hardest place to be Mexican outside of Mexico. The excuse they’re using is we’ve got to stop the drug trade. Really? I’m gonna go out on a limb and say every Mexican jumping the border isn’t packing kilos of blow. They are people who come over and work shit jobs for shit wages so they can take care of their families. Sure there’s the occasional drug dealer, but the ratio of drug dealer to non-drug dealer is probably the same as the ratio of hot girls looking for nerds to actual nerds at Comic-Con.

The law allows law enforcement to ask people they think might be illegal aliens to produce their papers. Not unlike when Jews were made to produce papers. The argument against that being, “Well, ain’t no big deal to show a police officer some papers.” This argument is usually made by a white person who is not in danger of ever being mistaken for an illegal alien.

“But they don’t pay taxes!” The hell they don’t. Every time they buy something, they’re paying taxes. Besides, tax evasion isn’t synonymous with being an alien. Ask Wesley Snipes or John Kerry.

Now I know there’s ways to legally get here and it’s an arduous and lengthy process. I agree people should do that. 100% However, if they’re here, they’re here. Done. Leave them alone. That’s my plan. Everyone who is here, welcome. You’re legal. Done. Everyone who isn’t, you’ve got one week to try to get here. After that, you’ll have to get here legally. Let’s just start at zero. Here? You’re an American. Not here yet? Get to hitchhiking or prepare yourself for a decade of paperwork.

I’m a white Irish dude who has no qualms with any race. I can think of a million better reasons to hate someone than the color of their skin. Humans just like to divide ourselves up with borders and then dictate our false sense of entitlement to those we feel are below us. We’re all here for less than a hundred years so maybe we should spend less time being assholes for no good reason and more time helping each other out. A life full of hate and prejudice has got to be miserable.

Also, we risk turning away someone who looks like this. Not in my America!

Get your shit right,  Arizona.

- C&J

THANKS, GOOGLE!

The charger jack on my Blackberry broke sometime over the last couple of weeks. Yes. I still have a Blackberry. “But all of us have iPhones now, moron.” If it’s good enough for this guy, it’s good enough for me.

Yesterday I marched down to the Sprint store and pretended I didn’t know what was wrong my phone. This is because my phone doubles as that thing I throw when life hands me some bad news. There’s no way that phone shouldn’t have been in worse shape, so kudos to Blackberry. “Uh, I dunno what happened to it. Probably the weather? Poor craftsmanship? Hell if I know.” I went with the clueless angle. It worked. The same can’t be said for the 240 pound pile of white trash failure wrapped in faded Loony Tunes wear and capri pants. She played the clueless card when asked why her phone was full of water. I’m not kidding. “I never did nuthin’ with that phone and wah-tur. Never! This is bullshit! Ima take mah business elsewhere!” She’s doing Sprint a favor by threatening to jump ship to a competitor.

The guy told me they’d have to order the part and to come back in a day. I went to the store and turns out they don’t replace the part, they replace the whole damn phone! A second chance to treat it the way I should have been treating it all along! Like my family, or the homeless, or my family that’s homeless! I was pretty pumped until the guy told me he couldn’t transfer any of my contacts because the broken jack is how they transfer data.  Sprint has a wonderful policy of not having SIM cards in their phones, because they’re assholes. This commenced with my writing all of my contacts down. All 245 of them. E-mails and numbers. Took an hour or so.

When I finished, I returned the pen to the beleaguered looking Sprint employee, a look they were all sporting when he asked if I had Google Synch. I told him I wasn’t sure. He explained Google has a service that will synch your phone with your Gmail. Because I have mild Alzheimer’s, I told him I wasn’t sure. He said, “Well, at least you were able to write all your contacts down.” Yeah. Thanks.

I got home and started messing with the phone. I was prepared for an evening of chicken scratch deciphering and tiny button pushing when I remembered Google Synch. Shabang! There were all 245 names and their contact information. I went ahead and cut that down significantly. Now the only people in my phone are people I’ve slept with in the last six months and friends I see at least once a week. So one. There’s only one contact in my phone.

A lot of people are upset Google has all of this information and if you think about it, it is disconcerting. However, who the hell cares about you? No one. This paranoia of, “Google’s gonna read all my e-mails and know where I’m at and blah blah blah.” I’ll trade my privacy for some convenience. I’m not kidding. I just realize no one, especially a staffer at Google, wants to read e-mails between myself and that girl I met on City of Brides. We both adore Yakov Smirnoff!

So the moral of this tale? There isn’t one. I just figured posting another video like this would be a waste of your time.

- C&J

LET’S TALK MEL!

“The screwin’  you’re gettin’ ain’t worth the screwin’ ya got!” – Mel Gibson (we assume)

Mel Gibson is talented. He’s won Oscars, is a great director, and handsome as anything – which all allows him to bone super hot Russian chicks, who apparently crap roses on pianos. Having said that, Mel Gibson appears to be a racist bag of “Bird On A Wire”. Danny Glover and us like to call what’s happening to Mel Gibson “karma”. You can only say the Jews are behind all wars and packs of n-words are raping women for so long before the crazy whore you left your wife (and mother of your children) for does some shit that makes you take a step back and say, “Wow. I fucked up. Thanks universe!”

While these are two people we’ll never meet, we’ve broken them down into negatives and positives, based simply on what little we know:

Mel Gibson

Positives : Braveheart, Lethal Weapon, Apocalypto

Negatives: Racist, misogynistic, bastard of a human being, zero phone etiquette

Oksana Grigorieva

Positives : Hot

Negatives: Manipulative whore, fucks sociopaths

Mel Gibson is a racist asshole and his ex-girlfriend seems to be a manipulative bitch. It’s a perfect storm of awful people coming together. She recorded their phone conversations and released them to a website. Police? Nope. Website? Sure. Red flag. How does he respond? Shoving, angry phone calls, and racism seem to be about on par with how a crazy man might deal with a manipulation of this caliber. We are in NO WAY saying his reactions are right, but you can only poke a crazy racist with a stick for so long before he starts leaving hilarious messages for you.

Was Mel Gibson right? Absolutely not. Are we defending him? No. He was a weak man who in his middle age gave up his family and career for a hot, young, Russian broad. And what happened? Bit him in the ass. Big time. She has a kid with Timothy Dalton, and look what happened to his career. That’s right, he can’t even get work and he was James Bond. Twice! Her vagina is where success goes to die. At least Mel got to so some good work before he began his life as a societal castaway, where he will be remembered for dolling out the most notorious beat down of a Russian since Balboa/Drago ‘85.

So what’s the moral of the story? If you’re going to do bad things to good people, like Mel did to his wife, then don’t be surprised if the hot young Russian turns out to record you going ape shit and racist ape shit. And if you lay a hand on her, that makes it even worse. No woman deserves that. To be fair, Mel probably wanted to kill her, but after O.J. he didn’t want people to think he was copying a black dude.

- C&J

ALFRESCO DINING CAN EAT MY SHIT. ALSO, WE’RE BACK!

Chad here. Ok, first things first: Sorry. We do a lot of apologizing in our daily lives, so that may or may not have been heartfelt. You’ll never know. You also didn’t miss us in our three month absence, so fuck you anyway. We had good cause: Chad got a new, grown-up-type serious job, and Joel’s entire life fell apart. That guy, man. He’s like Eeyore, but with a vagina. Hmm…I wonder what that would look like…

Ok, that was fun. Now on to the topic at hand. Here’s what I think about it, but be warned – I’m tired and a little pissed off. Here I go…

Hey, summertime alfresco dining; listen up: Eat my shit. All you people eating outside, trying to pretend it’s not miserable. You’re embarrassing yourselves and you don’t even know it. We live in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, United States of America. This time of year it gets well over 100 degrees and has recently had over 90% humidity as well. Fuck you for eating outside. It’s not fit for humans outside, let alone dinner. There’s only one thing you eat outside, and it’s this right here. I don’t understand why people pretend that it’s “nice out” when in fact the only thing sweatier than your iced tea is your crotch.

It’s different when the weather is nice. Trust me; I’ve had a blast eating outside more than once. Here’s a picture:

Ahh, that was good cream soda I was drinking. All I’m saying is, stop trying to be cool and admit that you’re human, and that it’s awful outside. All summer long. And it will be for another month. Sometimes it’s ok to just be inside and not want to “enjoy the summer”. Those days are over, friend. The earth is boiling and we’re just here to salt it for taste. It’s over, man. Done. No more eating outside or playing soccer or staring into the sun for an hour without being hot and sticky and probably a little bit irradiated. Just be yourself and eat inside the restaurant/bar/rest stop with the rest of us comfort-lovers. Well, ok – maybe don’t eat inside the rest stop. Those are just bathrooms and they’re probably full of germs and toilets overflowing with semen. And me.