Boston, MA – Not really in a good mood today. Here’s some dickhead trying to buzz the tower in a fly suit. Spoiler alert: Tower 1, fly suit 0.
Boston, MA – Not really in a good mood today. Here’s some dickhead trying to buzz the tower in a fly suit. Spoiler alert: Tower 1, fly suit 0.

"Hey, at least your wipers are ready to go, dickhead."
Boston, MA – Go fuck yourself.
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Boston, MA – The rules were simple: Make a layup, make a free throw, make a three pointer, make a shot from half court, all within 24 seconds, and you win $50,000. The only problem is, like many of today’s youth looking to take shortcuts in life, this kid Alex Permann skipped the three pointer and went straight to the half court shot, hoping 10,000 people in the stands (including the tournament organizers who put up the money) wouldn’t notice. As far as his celebration goes, that’s a moment of elation that simply cannot be taken back. What ‘can’ be taken back is the $50,000 in cash and subsequent pussy that typically comes along with such a windfall. Tournament organizers, feeling badly about the situation, decided to give Alex lifetime tickets to the Missouri Valley tournament and a three day stay at a local hotel at next year’s event. Total value of that prize: $300, plus a lifetime of ridicule by his friends who will play this clip on endless loop at every opportunity. Local pizza places will no doubt capitalize on this, offering “The Permann Pie”, which is a large pepperoni pizza, but when you open the lid it only has cheese on it. Coming up short in Missouri Valley shall forever be known as “to Permann.” For example, if one were to prematurely ejaculate: “Oh, sorry baby, I just Permann’d.”
"Herro"
Los Angeles (CNN) — “Corpse Found in LA Hotel’s Water Tank” – Tourists staying at a Los Angeles hotel bathed, brushed teeth and drank with water from a tank in which a young woman’s body was likely decomposing for more than two weeks, police said. Elisa Lam’s corpse was found in the Cecil Hotel’s rooftop water tank by a maintenance worker who was trying to figure out why the water pressure was low Tuesday.
Wow. Talk about developing some deep-rooted phobias if you’re one of those tourists. How would you ever leave your house again without vomiting after something like that happens to you? The following is a dramatization of me going to a therapy group designed to help those tourists.
Psychiatrist: “So, Martin, why don’t you introduce yourself to the group, and if you’re ready, tell us a little bit about what it is you’re doing here.”
Me: (clears throat. sips water. glances around. does other stuff but I don’t want to keep listing them all.) ”Hi, I’m Martin. I’m here because I have fairly specific trust issues, as well as phobias consisting of, but not limited to: drinking water, dental hygiene, staying in hotels, seeing hotels, hearing the word ‘hotel’, asian people, chinese food, traveling, memories, talking to people who know about my past, stories about your travels, you mentioning the word “hotel’, seeing commercials with has-been athletes’s standing half-in/half-out of suitcases shilling some $79 a night motel, laying down, or participating in any activity such as napping or sleeping where nightmares could occur. I guess it all stems back to that time I stayed at the Cecil Hotel in L.A., when that Asian lady was found decomposing in the main water supply. We spent the week unknowingly drinking bits and pieces of a dead body, bathing in her, and on at least one occasion, I was gargling her remains when I was doing an impression of what teabagging must sound like. I remember thinking ‘hey, is it just me, or does this water pressure seem kinda low?’, which, of course, is now hindsight, because that Asian lady’s decomposing body was blocking the pipes or wherever water comes from. So, the water being served to us was being sifted through her skeleton and mummified organs, and I guess once Forensics was done pulling her parts out, the water pressure went back to normal, which is great for, you know, future guests, but you’d have to confirm that with the hotel, because not only have I been vomiting since I checked out, but I have no intention of ever returning, nor do I care about the comfort of future guests, or reading positive reviews on TripAdvisor about how their favorite part of the hotel stay was the absolutely perfect water pressure. For me, the pressure was bad, and the only thing that will ever truly make me forget about that is if I receive enough blunt force trauma to the point where I am no longer alive, as we now know, thanks to worldwide media coverage, that the low pressure was caused by a classic case of “wrong place, wrong time” by a cadaver. I’ll basically be living out my days being introduced as ‘Martin’, but once my back is turned, people will say ‘That’s the guy I was telling you about, the one that drank the dead body in that hotel in L.A. Ewww. Grody. Anyway, fuckin’ sucks to be that guy. lol.’ Other than that, I would say things have been going pretty well for me.”
(Martin sits. Takes a sip of water. Vomits.)
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"Before"
Boston, MA – Everyone that knows me knows that I love Nirvana. Forgive me for sounding a bit too much like a music afficionado, or someone that thinks he knows just a little bit more about music than you, but if I had to elaborate, I would say their music was really good. And, say what you will about Kurt Cobain’s drug addiction, but if you think about it, Heroin is the gateway drug to heaven. What could be wrong with that?! Worst case scenario, you shoot too much and you end up in heaven, but at least you’re done with your grueling tour schedule. In closing, it’s kind of ironic that Kurt didn’t like the attention of Awards shows, considering he ended up on a red carpet.
RIP Kurt. Hopefully they buried you 600 feet down, just barely out of reach of the lecherous paparazzi.
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Boston, MA – If you told me that ’9′ and ’4′ would have potential impact on Super Bowl squares, I would have said no fucking way because I had those piece of dog shit numbers. Well, wouldn’t you fucking know it, it dawns on me late in the game that if the score remains 34-29, I would have won $400. Along comes Phil Simms (needing a toupee in the shape of a wedge of pie), who said “I would not take the safety here”, which of course planted a seed with the Baltimore coaching staff. I actually just said to Mrs. Munson “Imagine all the people that have 9-4 out there? LOL”, then I looked at my piece of paper and told Nipples the Cat to vacate the premises fucking STAT. I was screaming at my TV “IF YOU TAKE THE SAFETY I WILL FUCKING MURDER MY CAT LIVE ON TWITTER” which totally relaxed Mrs. Munson on a Sunday evening. Anyway, after Sam Koch did his impression of me running for my life trying to protect my asshole from no longer being a virgin as a Boy Scout, I got to thinking about Jim Nantz. I honestly can’t picture Jim Nantz making love. Can you? I can’t do it. If I try, he just stands there with his suit on, undoing his fly to release all 3 inches of Nantz-mania. Does Jim Nantz cum like you and me? I won’t go into details, but when I launch one out I look like they can’t finish me off in the Electric Chair. Here’s my text impression of Jim Nantz having an orgasm: (monotone) “Okay. Wowie. Oh my heavens, your mouth feels wonderful on Little Nantz. Well, holy moly, here we go. Yes. There it is. Very nice. Well, wouldn’t you know it, my penis is beginning to tickle. Annnnnnnnd, cum.”
Anyway, I have been watching this play over and over, kind of like the time Marcia Brady broke her nose with that football, only without all the lol’s. Now every dickhead at work: “Hey, if they didn’t take that safety you would have won $400.” Oh, yeah, no shit, really?


Second from left: "Only one of these shirts exists, and I bought it."
Sometimes, when I’m at work and there is much ado about nothing, I peruse the Bill Brett party photos on Boston.com, just trolling for milfs and imagining what it would be like to penetrate some of them. Just what is it about women in cocktail gowns raising money for Autism makes the blood rush to my helmet? We may never know, but, spoiler alert, it probably starts with their cleavage. Sometimes I scare myself because the blood flows so quick to my dick that I feel like my spirit is rising up out of my body. Oh, don’t worry about Mrs. Munson reading that, she abandoned ship not too long ago with a few of our Facebook followers. Anyway, here is an actual quote from the 2nd guy on the right after some event: “I had an oyster with Mary Richards from Chronicle so now I can die a happy man,” said Thomas Hyde, second from right, with Michael Butler, left, Stephen O’Connor, second from left, and Mat Schetne, all of Boston. While you and I come up with a few other words we would substitute for “happy” there (mine rhymed with “hay”), check out that dude second from the left. Wow. Epic shirt fail. It must have looked good on the mannequin or something but this purchase makes no sense whatsoever. I bet if you got up real close to it, and then relaxed your eyes as you slowly backed away, you’d see a bunch of dudes blowing each other on a pirate ship. To be fair, the other guys are all looking pretty good (I’m not gay but I’ll admit I know a good looking man when I see one), even the dude on the far right that looks like he’s a lumberjack in the Russian mafia.
Nonetheless, it looks like this event was a complete success judging by the faces of all 11 people who attended.

"69 with my wife feel more like 138"
BEIJING (AP) — The world’s tallest woman has died in eastern China. She was 39. Chinese state media say Yao Defen died on Nov. 13 at her home in China’s eastern province of Anhui. Guinness World Records in January 2010 had certified her as the world’s tallest living woman at 7 feet and 7 inches (233.3 centimeters). The local Xin’an Evening News did not give the cause of death but said in a report that Yao suffered from gigantism, with a tumor on her pituitary gland disrupting her levels of growth hormone. A government official in her county who gave only his surname, Liu, confirmed Yao’s death on Wednesday. The Xin’an newspaper said Yao learned to play basketball when young, and that she was 6 feet and 7 inches (200 centimeters) tall by the age of 15. In a Chinese-language video from three years ago, Yao expressed anguish at her unusual height. ‘‘I am very unhappy. Why am I this tall?’’ she said from her bed. ‘‘If I were not this tall, others would not look at me like this.’
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Boston, MA – Jesus. Fucking. Christ. You feel sorry for the husband and his loss, but to be honest, how was that little dude ever supposed to give Yao an orgasm? He must have had to work up a temper and throw combinations at her pussy like it was a heavy bag. With all due respect to the deceased, that little fella’s tongue couldn’t have really hit the magic spot too often on a clit the size of a fire hydrant. What do you suppose this guy is packing for trouser meat anyway? Let’s just go way over the top (or the Wicked Improper blogger average) and say he has a 9 inch dick. That would be like throwing the proverbial “teriyaki stick down the rice paddy.” I feel bad for her in that way. You have to imagine she spent some lonely nights, fantasizing about getting romanced and railed by the one man who everyone knows carries a 62 pound asparagus spear for a dick, the Jolly Green Giant. I know everyone thinks death is sad, but just look at her last sentence. She died doing what she loved: eternally complaining about her height. RIP Yao. You did not want to be looked a differently, but we had no choice because you were so different from everyone else.
Boston, MA – Good Morning! Over the span of the decades, and certainly after the advent of shampoo, women’s hairstyles have been nearly as important to men as breast size. The order in which man has historically viewed women goes: breasts, ass, crotch, breasts, eyes, smile, breasts, hair, intelligence. And so it is with great pleasure we invite you on this walk down Follicle Lane, where we take a moment to admire great women who have inspired famous hairstyles around the world. Enjoy!
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"The Dorothy Hamill"
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"The Farrah"

"The Rachel"
CBS New York: A deeply religious man in upstate New York who believes a church’s giant crucifix cured his wife of cancer had his own leg amputated after the same crucifix collapsed on top of him. The accident occurred when 45-year-old David Jimenez was cleaning the 600-pound crucifix, which was allegedly held up by a single screw. Jimenez has been a frequent visitor to the Church of St. Patrick in Newburgh, N.Y., where he made regular stops to pray for his wife, who is now cancer-free.
Kitson told the Digital Journal that Jimenez is planning to sue the church for $3 million after losing his leg, because he will not be able to return to his job at a pizza restaurant. The church has reportedly raised [Note from Red: Please prepare for a major lol] about $7,000 for Jimenez’s recovery effort so far.
Yih! No self respecting lawyer is going to let Davey settle for seven g’s when there is a lost leg in the mix, no no no. Matter of fact, I’m surprised that this vampire is setting the bar so low at $3 millionm, except that a lifetime of lost wages at a pizza joint probably doesn’t amount to all that much. Did he have permission to clean the crucifix? Did the gd 600 pound t-shaped rock, hanging by an almost literal thread, look wobbly at all? Was it even dirty?! Who cares to all of it! Sue those bastards!
Except guess what? No self respecting defense lawyer is going to ignore David’s religious nature. “Mr. Jimenez, you claim this rock carving – that happens to be chiseled into the shape of Jesus on a cross – is a miracle worker and literally (LITERALLY!) saved your wife’s life? Well then how can you question the motives of said crucifix when it decides to drop off its perch, where it’s been hanging safely for decades, and smash your leg to bits, huh? Does god work in mysterious ways, or doesn’t he? You can’t have it both ways, guy.” Case f-ing closed.
Boston, MA – Anyone that knows me knows that I have a fondness for all things pumpkin. Pumpkin pie. Pumpkin Yankee Candle. Pumpkin soup. Pumpkin gumbo. EtFc. Below are just a few of my favorite moments involving pumpkins. Your favorite pumpkin moments may be different, so please save them for your own blog.
p.s. Is it just me, or does some guy named Matt Schantz over in our Facebook section have the fucking Miami Heat logo as his profile picture? Fuck Ray Allen, and fuck you, Matt!

"Spencer goes for third base with Heidi!"

"Taint it a beauty?" (wouldya?)

"Little Asshole showcasing his harvest"

"Typical Coloradoan"

"Dean McDermott getting pwnd by notorious C, Tori Spelling. Go get her more fucking pumpkins Dean!"

"Cell Block Halloween, with your host, Jerry Sandusky!"

"Matt Schantz Profile Picture"
Boston, MA – My disgust for Segway Tours is well documented, but let’s briefly go over it again. I don’t know if you remember when the Segway came out, but the company that created them claimed they would “change the way human beings travel.” They were right, because if you pause to think about it, there is no other vehicle that when wearing a helmet makes you look like a floating dildo. They also claimed every human being would “need” to have a Segway, as if you couldn’t live without one. You know who really couldn’t live without one? The owner of the Segway company, who drove he and his Segway off a cliff and (spoiler) did not live to tell about it. You can read all about that delicious two-wheeled irony here. Don’t have time to read anything? Cool. But at least take a look at the cliff he dropped from. It was a doozy!
So come on, take a Segway Tour in a city near you. You never know what fun awaits around every corner!

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Boston, MA – Out of respect for the deceased, please watch this entire 40 second “Death by Phosphorous” video. The rocket being launched reminds me of Call of Duty multiplayer deathmatch where I would just blindly fire rockets in all directions and then use the d-pad to crouch down and rub my taint all over my victims corpses. But, stay tuned, because after the initial strike by the rocket, all fucking hell literally breaks loose. Phosphorous is a bad motherfucker. I thought it was only one of the compounds in toothpaste, but I was wrong. It’s also one of the compounds of burning your enemies alive in an oven on wheels. I can’t even imagine what they talked about inside that tank after being hit. “OMG, we just got hit by a rocket. Hey, everything is going to be a’ight, we’re still alive and talking. Oh man, what is that smell? Well, I for one do not like that hissing sound. Now what’s going on with the thermostat in this tank? It’s a sticky heat, right? Uh-oh, bro, I think we got some Phosphorous up in here. What? No, that is not going to be good for our teeth. This is probably going to be the bad Phosphorous.” RIP Syrian dickheads.
p.s. “How do you like your ribs?” – Carl Weathers in “Action Jackson”
This is what happens when you put your hand on your hip like that. Take a jelly ball facial you smug preppy prick.

Boston, MA – Look at this little redneck. He has great form, bending with his knees and not his back. Two hands on the shovel. It’s actually textbook shoveling. The part where he lacks any intelligence whatsoever is when this little dummy is presented with 360 degrees of debris tossing options, and he selects the wrong one. What are the odds of that? (1 in 360)
This actually reminds me of the snow shoveling I will be doing very soon. Mrs. Munson likes to sit in the house and sip warm coffee while I shovel, then when I come in with shriveled testicles, she’ll ask things like “Was it a light snow or a heavy snow?” You know what, Titsy? After eleven hundred fucking shovelfuls, it can start to get a bit heavy, yeah.


"Hi, I died in a roach eating contest"
MIAMI (AP) — A contestant in a roach-eating contest who downed dozens of live bugs and worms collapsed and died shortly after winning the contest in South Florida, authorities say. About 30 contestants ingested the insects during Friday night’s contest at Ben Siegel Reptile Store in Deerfield Beach about 40 miles north of Miami. The grand prize was a python.
Edward Archbold, 32, of West Palm Beach became ill shortly after the contest ended and collapsed outside the store, according to a Broward Sheriff’s office statement released Monday. He was taken to a hospital where he was pronounced dead. Authorities were awaiting results of an autopsy to determine a cause of death. The sheriff’s office said none of the other contestants fell ill. There was no updated phone number listed for Archbold in West Palm Beach.
“We feel terribly awful,” said store owner Ben Siegel, who added that Archbold did not appear to be sick before the contest.
“He looked like he just wanted to show off and was very nice,” Siegel said, adding that Archbold was “the life of the party.”
Boston and Miami – This story is almost too good to be true. Do I wish there was a better picture of this bug eater? Yeah, I do, but don’t blame me, blame MyFoxBoston. But, this has everything you want in your morning blog (besides cleavage.) Pythons. Rednecks. Dying after winning a roach eating contest. Puns. Oxymorons. Zingers. You name it. Let’s review:
First things first, why is anyone looking for a dead guy’s phone number? He’s not home anymore. Second, did the reporter find an old phone number and try it? Spoiler alert: no answer there, either. I mean, what is the point of looking for an updated phone number? “We found an updated phone number, but as you can imagine, we got voicemail.”
Next, is there a more redundant statement than “We feel terribly awful”? Keeping in mind this is the south, and a quote from the owner of a reptile store that was giving away a python to the person that could eat the most insects. Plus, the guy that came in second place, typically referred to as the first loser? Double victory! He ate less insects than dead guy but still won by default and lives to tell about it. He’ll probably embellish and say he stepped over the body to claim the python, but this is the one time where you obviously cannot say the victory tastes sweet.
Finally, I don’t know how you read that last quote of the story without bursting into an lol. I understand he’s trying to say something nice about the guy, probably to appease the next of kin (and perhaps a subtle attempt to defuse the lawsuit he’ll be hit with tomorrow), but how do you say “he was the life of the party” with a straight face when the guy just “died at the party”? Everyone that knows me knows my biggest fear besides prison is leaving behind a comical obituary, and it doesn’t get any more comical than “died eating bugs while trying to win a free snake.”
Chicago, IL (Home of Steve Bartman) – This video reminds me that I don’t think I could let a chick blow me and a friend at the same time. You just know your helmets are inevitably going to touch. And just before they do, you have to imagine time would grind to a halt, almost like slow-motion, as she guides the heads closer together, kind of like when Elliott and E.T. touch fingertips. You’d just be standing there, like “nooooooooooooooo” and try to slap the helmets away, but then you run the risk of making other guy penis contact with your hand. Then your friend would tell all of your buddies that you touched his dick and maybe even embellish by saying you liked it and tugged it a few times even though you didn’t. You can’t control what people say about you when you’re not around, but you’ll know something is up if you notice a severe decrease in high-fives and fistbumps. Become suspicious if your friends start greeting you by waving.
….wait until you see this video. This dude is like the Greek Terminator. He simply refuses to let his morning commute be interrupted. He was literally just on the business end of an attempted murder and he walks it off. He doesn’t even take a moment to grieve the very recent death of his motorcycle. The only explanation this blogger can come up with as to why his head is still on is that he must have very cooperative neck muscles. I also have no explanation for why it looks like his diaper comes off. That part of it was like a neat magic trick. Watch it once, twice, or thrice if you must, but is it just me or does he make a diaper appear out of thin air? “You thought you were killing me, but, Presto! Here is a Depends undergarment instead!” We should all take a page out of this guys’ book. He looked vehicular homicide in the face and said “Όχι σήμερα ο φίλος μου δεν έχω περισσότερα ass με νερό βρύσης” (loose translation: “Not today, motherfucker. Have to stay alive to keep tapping all that American tourist ass.”)
Let this video serve as a reminder to never stop running when danger is nearby. Like, never. Keep running until someone catches up to you on a bike to let you know that everything gonna be a’ight. Admittedly, I’m in a bad mood today because my armpits are having an allergic reaction to my new deodorant, and it feels like someone is dunking them in lava. So, naturally, rather than send hatemail to Right Guard, I did a Google search for “show me someone die”, and this video is what I got. Good ol’ Google.
(Even I have a heart sometimes, so viewer discretion is advised here like you can’t believe.)
p.s. Good news, this looks like one of those water slides created by Mother Nature! Bad news, when you go over a waterfall from outer space with nothing to cushion your fall but rocks and other people, you can go ahead and cancel your tee time(s.)