Your Birthday Today
Congratulations, you're now officially too old to have roommates!
Aries March 21 - April 19
Wild peals of laughter will surround you this week when you're unexpectedly struck in the nuts by cancer.
Taurus April 20 - May 20
They've called you spineless, thin-skinned, a lowly bottom feeder. But then you're Rhopilema verrilli, a species of jellyfish known for its creamy white color and deep swimming bell.
Gemini May 21 - June 21
You've tried to go it alone but, sadly, what the act of sexual stimulation really needs is a woman's touch.
Cancer June 22 - July 22
Most firearm accidents occur in the home. Avoid the chance of serious injury by getting shot repeatedly at work this week.
Leo July 23 - August 22
Your meticulous attention to detail willl once again ruin an other-wise fun and pleasureable pasttime.
Virgo August 23 - September 22
Fears of dying alone will soon be allayed when more than 2,000 fire ants keep you company during those last terrifying minutes.
Libra September 23 - October 23
Your zodiac sign will continue to grow more ironic with each and every meal you choose to consume.
Scorpio October 24 - November 21
A head surgeon and two operating nurses will soon stage a comedy of errors atop your anesthetized chest.
Sagittarius November 22 - December 21
Dyslexia may be a serious affliction, but so is abusing it in order to attain triple-letter scores when playing Scrabble.
Capricorn December 22 - January 19
The best way to survive a grizzly bear attack is to play dead. Look to your wife and children for pointers on realism.
Aquarius January 20 - February 18
Sure, you may be having some second thoughts about it, but when was the last time a little vial of poison hurt anyone?
Pisces February 19 - March 20
The stars, though massive balls of plasma incapable of human emotion, pity you.
I always hated the question "What do you want for Christmas?" When I was a kid, that question was easy to answer. I wanted whatever toy was the latest and greatest piece of shit made in China that was already broken or abandoned by New Years. Now that I am older, I have come to really despise this question. It really takes the element of surprise out of gift giving. I actually enjoy getting gifts from people who aren't sure what I want. It's fun to see what they think I would like, or if they would actually try to wrap a 120-pound one-legged drunk Taiwanese hooker for me. Anyway, I could ramble on all day long to the thousands (or few) people who read this blog, but would anything actually change? Would I be able to stop people from all over the world from asking this question? No. So, since you fuckwads will still ask away, and because Ritalin, TV, Xbox and Sesame Street have eaten away your fragile imaginations, here is my Christmas list.
The Figiel Christmas List (in no particluar order)
- A doll to play with.
- A bicycle.
- A toy gun.
- A book.
- An iPod.
- Some hair gel.
- A Scottish Kilt.
- Disney's "A Little Mermaid" on DVD
- A pet dog.
- A new water bottle.
- A baseball glove.
- Some flaxseed oil.
I just thought this picture was funny. Stupid fucking kid.
This beer ad is great. But it would have been a lot better if the beer was not non-alcoholic, because then it would need a better slogan, such as:
-"Beer...A great way to get preggers!"
-"My beer belly is alive!"
-"Fuck the Surgeon General's warning!"
-"Always wear a condom!"
-"My kid is going to be retarded. Hooorrraayyy Retards!"
-"Strong enough for a man, healthy enough for babies."
-"Cheers!...to not pulling out."
-"Beer...Kid tested, mother approved"
-"I drink because I hate my unborn child."
-"I'm a big whore!"
-"Beer...a great form of slow abortion!"
I have been hearing reports on the radio that terrorists are targeting shopping malls this season. Awesome! When I'm Christmas shopping at the mall, maxing out my credit cards, being tortured by God-awful Christmas music and listening to little Johnny Boy kicking, screaming and crying like a little pussy-bitch because he wants a a fucking Power Ranger toy, sometimes I wish the mall would just blow up and end my misery. Now my wishes can come true. Actually, this is not true. I still have some time on my clock to enjoy getting fucked-up hammer-drunk on egg nog and brandy and hooking up with slutty little elves. If you despise Christmas shopping as much as I do, then I have a solution for you. I have compiled a list of items that you can actually buy. I think this stuff is much more useful than iPods, cashmere sweaters, X-Box 360, homeland security or plasma televisions. Why don't we buy stuff that people can actually use!?! Oh well, oh well enjoy...
Great gift for the desperate fat ass woman in your life who enjoys reading Harry Potter and clandestinely dreams of actually meeting a person of the opposite sex. But continues to drill themselves every night, alone, with a Bunny Runner Slick Pro-line 3000 Dildo with attachable anal beads. Gift - The Man Catcher Voodoo Kit $7.98
This is a fabulous gift for grandmas, retards, sluts, whores, gaylords and your mom. Fresh fully clean!! Gift - The Handi-Cleanse Personal Bidet $24.95
This is a remarkable gift for that rich uncle who drives a Ferrari, thought hair plugs were a good idea and needs something a little something extra to make that BIG first impression for the 18 year old girls he likes to try and pick up at the bar. Or if your name is Greg Nester (sorry for the inside joke) Gift - The Big Boy $19.99
Have a relative who is embarrassed to take their shirt off? Still looks like they have a sweater on, even after they take one off? Clogged drains? They may have unsightly back hair. No need to worry we have something for them. Show the love.
Gift - The Razorba Back Shaver $29.95
This really complements the The Man Catcher Voodoo Kit quite nicely. A discrete way of saying "You might enjoy that kit, but the real reason you can't get any dick is because you are a fat bitch and since cosmetic surgery is too much for your budget considering you eat at McDonalds three times a day, I got you this to hide all the quarter pounders." Gift - Bubbles Thigh Shaper $19.99
For that special someone who bleaches their jeans, bleaches their hair, bleaches their bathtub and has trouble finding other things to bleach. Gift - Anal Bleaching Cream $9.99
Not sure I need to even write a description. Gift - The Strippers Guide To Looking Great Naked $13.95
Since retail stores start putting up Christmas shit earlier and earlier, I figured I could give this blog a Christmas makeover. I loved Christmas when I still thought that fat-ass pig white bearded alcohol smelling pedophile fag called Santa
was actually real. How stupid we all were to fall for that shit. What a joke. Some fat fuck sneaks into your house eats your cookies and drinks your milk and then leaves you lots of presents. Unless of course, your mom is crack-whore and your daddy makes less money than a 3 year old who makes Nike shoes. Then, you don't get shit, well actually you may get actual shit since your mom is a crack whore. Fuck the holidays. I'm done with all the bullshit, unless I can blow some snow off this
. More entertaining stuff considering my hatred for the holidays to come for my 5 readers
Figiel Blog Reaches 666 Visitors in Just 4 Months!
Join me in celebrating having 666 visitors to this website!!! On Friday November 2nd ironically at 4:20pm, I visited my own site (this blog) and realized that I was the 666th visitor. Fuck Yeahs!! Thank you to the four people
that continually visit this site and make everything possible. My dream has come true. I truly thank all you stupid people from the bottom of my heart.
I always hated Knock Knock jokes. I never thought any of them were actually funny. One can only laugh at the stupidity and complete waste of time that someone actually spent thinking of one. So began my journey into the wild jungle know as the internet. I was on a quest to find knock knock jokes that were actually funny and possibly dirty. However, my journey would not be easy. There would be many many roadblocks and octopus obstacles ob-longing over our offspring offering oral opium oatmeal ointments. An exuberant amount of temptations and distractions would have to be thwarted on my account; alone nonetheless to successfully accomplish my journey. I mustn't loose site of my true purpose. There would be sites that I would have to try my damnest to keep away from in order to fulfill my journey, websites like:
"www.DancingMonkeyAnalStuffingPigeonMolybdenum.com" or "www.MommyLikesPetroleumJellyRubbedOnHer
VaginieByManInTightLeatherTutu.com" or "www.IFuckedYourDad.com" (which for whatever reason doesn't seem to be as popular as www.IFuckedYourMom.com, but that question is for another day) or "http://bbc.co.uk/cbeebies/teletubbies/
" or "http://zapatopi.net/treeoctopus/
" or "http://www.sevenpeas.com/
" (this one is really a killer) or "www.SlaughterPenguinsBecauseImSickOfAllTheFuckingPenguinMoviesSeriouslyComeUpWithSomethingElseWhyNotACartoonAboutSomeFuckingSalamadors?OrSomethingLikeThat.com
" (A great stress reliever) or "www.SorryIKilledYourCatAfterITookSomeAcidAnd
PutItInABlenderHaHaHa.com" or "www.GoddamnWretched404FileNotFoundPageIFuckingHateThatPage/KillMeNow.com
" or "SpankMyMonkeyYouFuck.com
Anyway, I hope you get an idea of how distracting the internet can be, and I don't even have ADD or ABL (Anal Butt Leakage). What in the fucking hell was this article all about? I was looking for something. What was it? Let me retrace my thought processes. I spanked my monkey with my moms petroleum jelly while masturbating to Teletubbies that were murdering Penguins that received a 404 File Not Found and were on a killing rampage putting cats in blenders after fucking my mom...and my dad...and a badger. A badger? Oh yeah, a badger, this article was about badgers!!! I love badgers! Hooooooorrraaaayyyyyyy Badgers!! Hey kids look I found a joke about a badger, how random.Knock Knock
Who's there !Badger
Ha Ha Ha. Suck my balls.
Stephen Colbert writes Maureen Dowd's Op-Ed article for a day (see below). Eureka- fucking hilariously genius balls©
! (Yeah, that's right I copyrighted "Eureka-fucking hilariously genius balls" so don't get any ideas)Op-Ed Columnist
A Mock Columnist, Amok
By MAUREEN DOWD
I was in my office, writing a column on the injustice of relative marginal tax rates for hedge fund managers, when I saw Stephen Colbert on TV.
He was sneering that Times columns make good “kindling.” He was ranting that after you throw away the paper, “it takes over a hundred years for the lies to biodegrade.” He was observing, approvingly, that “Dick Cheney’s fondest pipe dream is driving a bulldozer into The New York Times while drinking crude oil out of Keith Olbermann’s skull.”
I called Colbert with a dare: if he thought it was so easy to be a Times Op-Ed pundit, he should try it. He came right over. In a moment of weakness, I had staged a coup d’moi. I just hope he leaves at some point. He’s typing and drinking and threatening to “shave Paul Krugman with a broken bottle.”
I Am an Op-Ed Columnist (And So Can You!)
Surprised to see my byline here, aren’t you? I would be too, if I read The New York Times. But I don’t. So I’ll just have to take your word that this was published. Frankly, I prefer emoticons to the written word, and if you disagree :(
I’d like to thank Maureen Dowd for permitting/begging me to write her column today. As I type this, she’s watching from an overstuffed divan, petting her prize Abyssinian and sipping a Dirty Cosmotinijito. Which reminds me: Before I get started, I have to take care of one other bit of business:
Bad things are happening in countries you shouldn’t have to think about. It’s all George Bush’s fault, the vice president is Satan, and God is gay.
There. Now I’ve written Frank Rich’s column too.
So why I am writing Miss Dowd’s column today? Simple. Because I believe the 2008 election, unlike all previous elections, is important. And a lot of Americans feel confused about the current crop of presidential candidates.
For instance, Hillary Clinton. I can’t remember if I’m supposed to be scared of her so Democrats will think they should nominate her when she’s actually easy to beat, or if I’m supposed to be scared of her because she’s legitimately scary.
Or Rudy Giuliani. I can’t remember if I’m supposed to support him because he’s the one who can beat Hillary if she gets nominated, or if I’m supposed to support him because he’s legitimately scary.
And Fred Thompson. In my opinion “Law & Order” never sufficiently explained why the Manhattan D.A. had an accent like an Appalachian catfish wrestler.
Well, suddenly an option is looming on the horizon. And I don’t mean Al Gore (though he’s a world-class loomer). First of all, I don’t think Nobel Prizes should go to people I was seated next to at the Emmys. Second, winning the Nobel Prize does not automatically qualify you to be commander in chief. I think George Bush has proved definitively that to be president, you don’t need to care about science, literature or peace.
While my hat is not presently in the ring, I should also point out that it is not on my head. So where’s that hat? (Hint: John McCain was seen passing one at a gas station to fuel up the Straight Talk Express.)
Others point to my new bestseller, “I Am America (And So Can You!)” noting that many candidates test the waters with a book first. Just look at Barack Obama, John Edwards or O. J. Simpson.
Look at the moral guidance I offer. On faith: “After Jesus was born, the Old Testament basically became a way for Bible publishers to keep their word count up.” On gender: “The sooner we accept the basic differences between men and women, the sooner we can stop arguing about it and start having sex.” On race: “While skin and race are often synonymous, skin cleansing is good, race cleansing is bad.” On the elderly: “They look like lizards.”
Our nation is at a Fork in the Road. Some say we should go Left; some say go Right. I say, “Doesn’t this thing have a reverse gear?” Let’s back this country up to a time before there were forks in the road — or even roads. Or forks, for that matter. I want to return to a simpler America where we ate our meat off the end of a sharpened stick.
Let me regurgitate: I know why you want me to run, and I hear your clamor. I share Americans’ nostalgia for an era when you not only could tell a man by the cut of his jib, but the jib industry hadn’t yet fled to Guangdong. And I don’t intend to tease you for weeks the way Newt Gingrich did, saying that if his supporters raised $30 million, he would run for president. I would run for 15 million. Cash.
Nevertheless, I am not ready to announce yet — even though it’s clear that the voters are desperate for a white, male, middle-aged, Jesus-trumpeting alternative.
What do I offer? Hope for the common man. Because I am not the Anointed or the Inevitable. I am just an Average Joe like you — if you have a TV show.