Where
the author tells you of the many things out there that make him want to
become a master thief with an exceptionally large basement to hoard the
myriad material things worth owning and loving.
Installment Two.
Installment Three.
Installment Four.
Installment Five.
Installment Six.
Installment Seven.
Installment Eight.
Installment Nine.
Installment Ten.
Installment Eleven.
Installment Twelve.
Installment Thirteen.
Message Board Discussion.
Good
day. The love of consumption is a shameful yet glorious thing as
evidenced by the many odd and showy collections many of us have in our
homes whether it be things we now regret [my 40 long boxes of comic books I’d part with for a pittance] or the ones we wear as badges of pride [my neatly organized and alphabetized to a "T" DVD collection].
Some folks say that these kinds of material things ruin us and make us
slaves to pop culture and for many it does. For others like myself,
some stuff whether frivolous or not, simply must be gotten. For those
people, I present this new subcolumn.
Everyone
gets the books that The Sharper Image and Brookstone and Toys ‘R Us and
Adam & Eve send out, but there’s no really helpful holiday gift
guide for that special someone in your life if that special someone is
a horrible cunt.
This is that guide.
1. The Tao Of Dropping A Deuce.
I am sick and tired of Asian masters of the martial spirit who release DVD’s on how to take special shits. Kung-poo, as I believe it’s called. Pan Shao Zu is a guy whose special power is rubbing the shit outta himself.
The technical term is Taoist feces exercise and the layman’s term is fucker needs a hobby.
Mr. Pan may be the best ever at massaging the brown through his asshole, and he does it in a way that is so bitchin’ it deserves to be burned to disc and sent to your home. When life hands you a clogged dung cabin, make lemonade!
If that was my special power I’d probably pretty not change a thing about my career and personal life. As tempting as it is to be a black belt in brown melt I’d pretty much have the same career as I have now and a very select few people might learn after a few drinks that I’m secretly the Baron Zemo to my colon’s Captain America.
Nicky’s Trivia:
- He’s holding his ears because he doesn’t want to hear the tormented cries of his crap as it leaves his body prematurely.
- I saved you the effort and translated the bizarre Oriental words/cartoons/letters/overrateds on the DVD box. They are blurbs from popular Asian Shitting Critics. Some of the accolades for Taoist feces exercise include "My asshole shit-pushing muscles are gonna atrophy thanks to Pan’s crap skillz! – Jun Run Fun", "Mr. Miyagi would shit himself if he saw Pan Shao Zu’s technique and Pat Morita would still be alive if he just learned to shit himself! – Energy McJapanese" and "Well, there’s the remote for my stereo! – Kim Ken".
- From experience I tell you that this thing really sizzles on Blu Ray.
Most of the films in my DVD collection of a few thousand are unofficially called Icy Breasts but only one film holds the distinction of having that title as its official title and that film is Icy Breasts.
Imagine my surprise to discover that there is a film out there that isn’t a porn but rather a French thriller from the 70’s. Icy Breasts. Are you fucking kidding me? I wonder if it’s from the Hot Vulva boys, the Pegg/Wright/Frosts of their time.
Icy Breasts. I just want it to be great. I want it to be the Citizen Kane of frozen tit movies. I want it to capture the zeitgeist like other breasty movies of yore like Mammaries Not Included and Michael Mann’s amazing crime flick Teat.
I won’t know until I see the Icy Breasts but somehow I feel comforting just knowing they’re out there, diamond hard and smelling faintly of brie
.Nicky’s Trivia:
- In some circles this is France’s answer to Bonnie and Clyde. If Clyde was a really chilly set of knobs.
- I want to go to a video store and say "Icy Breasts!" and see who pokes their head out from over the shelves looking for some fresh titties in the room. Then, I’ll smile my million dollar smile and hold up this DVD. Then I’ll be beat up in the children’s section.
- It would be better than finding proof of God or aliens to discover that Ben & Jerry are the caretakers of two giant freezetits that were unearthed in pre-Cambrian Vermont and have been slowly making us all its drone beings, one pint at a time of delicious flavored cold nipple sauce.
- Brrrrrrrrrrr.
- I could warm them breasts. WITH MY HOT DICK!
Racists need T-Shirts too!
There’s a possibility that 123 KLAN isn’t the 3-2-1 Contact for kids who want to accelerate from 0-HateCrime in 60 seconds but I still think that a pirate in a hood as a mascot still might try to fly the Jolly Roger on the Amistad if given the chance.
Yeah, I know that 123 Klan is actually a group of graffiti artists from France who formed a company but you tell me what is more scary:
T-Shirts for racists who want to learn math or French graffiti artists with a mission statement?
Nicky’s Trivia- If you’re a Klansman and can read this you’re not a Klansman.
- 123 Klan sounds like a game we used to play in the playground at Tom Metzger Middle School.
- If you buy eleven of these shirts you get a bulk discount and 20% off your next slavery.
I am a little disappointed with the state of extraterrestrial building contractors. Look at the shoddy piece of ass shit to the right of this amazing text. This is the big deal "UFO House" at Signal Mountain in Tennessee that I’ve been hearing about for the three or four minutes since I randomly typed ‘spaceship homes’ in Google? Not impressed.
I am also not very excited about the prospect of tiny gray men showing up on my roof with little feces exercise devices if they can’t even build a ship/house that looks like it could withstand a head butt from Meathead.
It’s not even the trailer home equivalent of a UFO. It’s squalid. It hurts me to type that word here on this site. It threatens my entire being to see the words ‘squalid’ and ‘alien home place’ in close proximity because I can’t proceed with my life’s current trajectory/nadir without the belief that aliens are out there and that they’re tidy.
Look at that car crash of a space carcraft house! It’s fucked!
Nicky’s Trivia:
- Can you imagine giving people directions to your house? "Take a left at the light and go about a quarter-mile until you see an alien craft with an "I Support the Troops" ribbon on the mailbox. We’re the house on the left that looks like a flying saucer was pushed out of Pan Shao Zu before its time."
- Ugly Fucking Object is more like it. Yeah, I said it.
- What if you outgrow thinking that UFO’s are so cool you’d want to live in a cheap ugly immobile one? Then what?