Beasting on Vishnu (Homecoming)

Recorded: Saturday October 24, 2009

Description:

The Podcast makes its triumphant comeback as Storchy goes home to Chitown to shot gun beers and frat it as he records his buddies as they shoot ducks and lay tracks.

Are We Still On Appetizers?

so saturday was snake's birthday party out in nj at clyde's girl's house. i was the first person to arrive. immediately started pounding beers. was eating all sorts of dips. all sorts of chips. actually only tostidos, but lots of them. shrimp cocktail. pigs in blankets with mustard. and horseradish mustard. and ketchup. then we start playing beer pong and ive got my side beers going. by game 3 im hammered and the most full i've ever been. i "sit a few plays out" because i lost, but also because id never been more full in my life. i couldnt have consumed another ounce of anything. i didnt even finish the beers from that last game. i gave them to my teammate, bob buttons to finish (sidenote: he had too many legendary quotes from the party to list. one of my favorite is the blog title).

so there was this banging buffalo chicken cheese dip that clyde's girlfriend made. but since i was the first person there, me clyde and snake basically killed almost all this dip before anyone got there. So to reiterate, i was fucking full as hell. honestly tho i was kind of pissed because i wanted to keep drinking. but i was going to be in a coma if i didnt handle this situation asap. so i went upstairs to the bathroom with a little separation from the party and was going to force myself to boot. not difficult. the boot flowed easily. not only was i shocked that i was able to boot with such ease, but i was also impressed by the amount of boot. there was quite a bit. didnt remember eating this much buff chicken cheese dip, but that was basically all I was booting. after a point i stopped, but i knew there was more work to be done. made one last boot heave. ahhhhh relief. felt light like bobby.

flush. shit! there's boot all over the bowl.... no problem. ive dealt with problems like this before. only need a little tp. uh. no tp. Ahhh thank god paper towel under the sink. crisis averted. clean it up. flush the towels down. successful mission. now just to wash my hands and head back to raging. look in mirror.

fantastic! boot splashback all over my white fucking tshirt. Buffalo chicken cheese vomit toilet water splashback. great. this party should be great from here on out. i take the shirt off and am scrubbing it in the sink. ferociously. alright the boot spots are coming off. some of them at least. i should be good to go. if i can just get these big ones off and put my zip up hoodie on when i go back downstairs no one will notice. fuck. this shirt is now soaking wet. cant go back to the party with a soaking shirt. its better than boot spots, but this will not do. alright, we're in a girls house. no biggie. ill just use a hair dryer. they have to have one in here. searching searching searching. nope. no hair dryer. ahhh but there is a hair straightener. bingo. bango. heat that bitch up, iron my shirt up. head back down to the party tshirt damper, 4 pounds lighter, ready to fucking rage.

one "pickmeup" blunt and 4 or 5 beers later and i'm on the train back to the city. completely assed out. dont remember walking back to my apartment, but i do remember walking thru a movie set and right by Tina Fey and Steve Carell, who both looked me in the eye. im not sure if i was walking thru the shot or something, but Tina did not look happy (hot tho). http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Date_Night

that is all.

Storchy.

Fuck Spike Lee! What The Fuck Has Spike Lee Done?!

Recorded: Monday May 18, 2009

Description:
In their epic recordbreaking return to podcast respectability, Storch and Snake are joined by Clive Driscoll to shoot the shit. Storch talks about passing out in Baby's Crib, then the fam discusses Jon Sterling's Yankees, White NBA Playoff Performers, Kobe Doin' Work On My Balls, and LePaulBunyan James.

- According To Royalty

Remember The Band Vertical Horizon?

Recorded: Thursday May 14, 2009

Description: 

The Podcast returns as Jon Storch is joined by a mascara wearing Bobby Light via two coffee cans and a piece of string. They discuss Hollywood Dean, The Phantom Wipe, eHarmony, SmellyPoon, & Redheads in Asian Cliques in the most emo way imaginable.

- According To Royalty

Snake Bit: People Who Respond “Maybe Attending” To Facebook Invites.

Snake Jacobs has invited you to the event, “People who hit maybe attending are assholes.”

First of all, if you really aren’t sure if you’re attending don’t click anything. Everyone knows that “awaiting reply” is the same thing as I’m not sure yet. In this age of blackberries and iphones everyone sees the invitation the minute it’s sent out.

For everyone else who doesn’t work a real job, you pretty much know if you are going to an event the minute you see it. If it’s an invite from someone from college who you rarely see and don’t even know their real first name, click “not attending” right away.

Blank “The Tank” Blankenberg has invited you to the event, “I’m turning 24. Let’s break shit.”

“Damn that was the Tank's first name. Not attending.”

Secondly, if the invite is from a close friend or a hot girl, click “attending.” It’s not a lifetime commitment. I’ve never heard of manslaughter as a result from people saying they would attend a party but never showed up.

But still, you are actually clicking the “maybe attending” button on a Facebook event? Wow! Keep us on the edge of our seat. “Holy shit, did you see Lebron James is maybe attending the event!” That would be exciting. Not, “Wow Dante Leibowitz is maybe attending. Who the fuck is Dante Leibowitz(foreshadow)?” Do you see the difference? Nobody cares if you might be showing up. It doesn’t change my RSVP at all. The fact that you clicked “maybe attending” makes me not want you to show up at all. “Wow you are so slick Dante! You kept your status at “maybe attending” and then showed up anyway. What a pleasant surprise. We are so happy you made it! I put Exlax in your vodka tonic! Have a good night!”


Lastly, do not write on the wall. “Hey dude, I’m flying back from Cali that day. I’ll try to swing by for a little.” The way I interpret that is, “Hey I’m a huge loser and want to announce to everyone that I was just in California. I was actually with my parents visiting my sister at Pepperdine but I’m gonna tell everyone I partied at USC with smoking hot girls. I won’t be able to make it because I’m still hung over from those wine coolers I managed to get at the hotel but hopefully people will call me from the open bar asking if I’m almost there.”

Congratulations, “maybe attending” Facebook event responders. You just got Snake Bit.

Classroom Art Activities.

ATR writes... SHARK "THE TRWTH" SHARKSLEY WAS IN PRE-ALGEBRA THE OTHER DAY. PRE-DOING ANY ALGEBRA, HE DID ART:

SHARKSLEY writes...and draws...and mspaints....

This Panda is endangered (all pandas are) and is an accountant, making him especially rare:

This Beaver had sore teeth, so he borrowed some overalls and an ax and tried to hang with the local lumberjack gang, Timberticklers. Unfortunately, this lumberjack gang also happens to frequent gay bars, which this poor beaver felt very out of place at.

Far Side Reality TV, Episode #1:

-Trwth

Duke Blue It... Then Each Other.

SNAKE AND STORCH WERE IN ATTENDANCE FOR THE 2009 NCAA TOURNAMENT SWEET 16 GAME BETWEEN DUKE AND VILLANOVA. 

FOLLOWING THE GRATIFYING DUKE LOSS, SNAKE SLITHERED UNDER THE DOOR AND HID IN THE DUKE LOCKER ROOM. STORCH SIMPLY WALKED IN DRESSED IN HIS NORMAL CHIMNEY SWEEPER ATTIRE AND WAS NOT QUESTIONED FOR A CREDENTIAL. 

THEY WERE ABLE TO WATCH THE TEAM AS THEY LEFT THE COURT AND RECORD THEIR CONVERSATIONS FOR POSTERITY:

The players are walking toward the locker room. Greg Paulus starts clapping, “Guys bring it in. Let’s go.” Everyone is confused.

Henderson, “What. The. Fuck. Are you talking about? The season is over. Your career is ov—.”

Paulus interupts, “What about the NB—”

Before he can finish, Henderson slaps him in the mouth and puts his finger in his face, “No.” Henderson takes out his cell phone and hits speed dial #5. The phone rings. “Bill Duffy, please….. Bill, it’s Gerald…. Yeah tough loss, but at least I showcased what I can do… Of course I’m going to declare. You think I want to stay another season with this team full of crying faggots?” Jon Scheyer is walking beside him weeping. He hears this and bawls even harder.

Gerald looks at Jon, “Pussy ass white faggot.… Yeah, Bill, I want you to be my agent…. Press conference tomorrow sounds good.” He hangs up. He starts jumping around and sees Elliot Williams. “Yo, Big L, I’m lottery bound, bebe!”

Elliot: “Good shit, son. Yo I’m out, too. Goin’ home. Memphis, son.”

G: “Oh shit you transferring?”

Big L: “Can’t take these white pussies. Or that homo, Lance ‘Bass’ Thomas.”

G: “That’s exactly what I said. And true about Lance. He’s softer than Charmin ass paper.” G&L do a Manny/Big Papi handshake and head back into the locker room.

Coach K calls the team in, “Alright, guys gather up.” The players stop their moping and gather around Coach, with the exception of Brian Zoubek. Big Zoubs is at the doorway banging his head into the doorframe. “Woj, what on God’s green earth is Zoubek doing?”

Woj walks over to Zoubek to help him into the room. Right before he gets there Lance Thomas, who was not yet in the locker room because he was too busy crushing the dreams of his entire extended family, ducks around Zoubek strongly elbowing him in the gut causing him to keel over and finally get his head in. The referees’ locker room is across the hall. After calling the offensive elbow to the gut foul on Thomas throughout the entire game, all of the refs instinctually blow their whistles and in unison yell, “Flagrant!”

Big L leans over to Gerald, “He’s fucking flagrant alright.”

Coach K: “Woj, help Zoubek sit down…. Alright fellas, you guys had a great season. We reached our level of mediocrity as usual beating Maryland, Virginia Tech, and Florida State. We lost both times to Carolina but that’s okay. They are dark- I mean deeper than us. They were just black- I mean better this year. To be honest I didn’t even think we would get a 2 seed. I guess my gold medal pedigree really helped with that one, HAH! Anyway, forget about the NCAA tournament though. From the start of the season we had one goal, which was to win the ACC tournament. So good job there, everyone. We did it.” The coaching staff and Greg Paulus start clapping it up. “Now I have to go meet our recruits at the Yacht Club for the wine and cheese soiree. Take care, we’ll see some of you next season. By the way, let’s thank Paulus for his dedication to Duke University for the last four years. A truly forgetta—I mean, great career. I don’t know what we would have done without your 4.9 points per game this year. You are a unique player. And by unique I mean, you were the first player I’ve ever seen to get progressively worse from season to season. Ok, guys.” He taps the table. “See you soon.” As Coach K is leaving he walks by Paulus and exhaled loud enough for everyone to hear, “should have played football hah-hah.” He turns back to the room, “Oh yea and Zoubek, you’re off the team....horrible.”

As Coach K leaves, Paulus starts crying. Singler consoles him, “Greg, maybe you can pull a Drew Henson.”

Gerald contributes, “Yeah, Greg, you can add NFL failure to your list of accomplishments. Oh yeah, and I’m declaring.”

Big L packs up his stuff and follows, “I’m sure I’ll see you guys next year when I’m at Memphis as a 1 seed and you are a 1 seed but in the NIT.”

Nolan Smith stands up, “Damn, so now I’m the only black guy?”

“My brother, your name is Nolan. You are whiter than the snow in my country or that in the country of Brhyzinski Zoubek,” Martynas Pocius blurts out. Gerald and Big L crack up. This is especially embarrassing for Nolan because Martynas is from Lithuania.

Gerald says, “Oh shit, Big L. You hear Space-Jam-Shawn-Bradley’s real name is Brhyzinski??!”

Zoubek hears his name and lifts his head up. He couldn’t be more confused. He looks around, can’t figure it out, and looks back down at his size 19 clown shoes.

“I’m afraid of black guys,” Jon Scheyer admits aloud but to himself.

Singler stands up. Everyone else is for the most part is still in uniform, but somehow Kyle is already fully dressed in khakis and a blazer, “Hey guys, are we almost done? I’d really like to get to my piano recital.”

Scheyer immediately snaps out of his pussyfit, “Oouu!! Can I come??! I want to get a cappuccino first. Or something.”

Paulus also snaps out of it, “I’m coming too!!”

Singler and Scheyer giggle. Singler says, “Hee hee, oh silly, you just said ‘come.’” They all laugh.

The three of them skip into each other’s arms and make a circle ringing around a rosey.

Lance sees this and loses it. He storms to his locker and starts rummaging through his gym bag.

Gerald says, “What the fuck are you homos doing here?”

Lance finds what he’s looking for. It’s the dildo from Se7en.

IT WAS AT THIS POINT THAT SNAKE AND STORCH KNEW THE DIRECTION THIS WAS HEADED. THE ATR FAMILY LEFT AND WENT TO THE MOVIES TO SEE ‘I LOVE YOU, MAN’ TO LAUGH AND FORGET ABOUT THE TRAGEDY THAT WAS ALMOST WITNESSED.

-According To Royalty

How Do You Think He Got His Name?

ATR writes… ACCORDING TO RICK JAMES, "COCAINE IS A HELL OF A DRUG." APPARENTLY, SO ARE PAIN KILLERS...

ZMILLS WITH DA PKILLS writes…
The main problem I have with the current president is that he just does not seem to get it. I sit here, alone in my apartment, surfing Craigslist and Monster and even going down the phone book, calling mother fuckers for any job that would be willing to hire me and he goes on The Tonight Show and has the audacity to make fun of retards.

Its not that I am against making fun of retards, in fact, I think making fun of retards is possibly one of the funniest things us normies can do in our spare time. Who do they think they are talking all weirdy-like and have over exacerbated foreheads? They aren’t fooling anyone, I know that they are truly an alien species from the planet Down-Syndromedia who are currently trying to gain our acceptance through unconditional love, appreciation and ridiculously mighty retard strength.  

But as our economy plummets deeper and deeper into the shitter, I find myself losing faith in my country, my government, and most importantly myself. Like a strong percentage of the of the country, I have been laid off, have had my stocks, mutual funds and 401K depleted, am falling deeper into debt with credit cards and over drafts, bouncing checks with hookers and whores, inability to pay back my drug dealers for their product, and unable to fully pay my hitman for the assassinations I wish him to perform. Everyday, businesses are closing and declaring bankruptcy. Even some of the most stable and affluent business; such as, manufacturers of pharmaceutical drugs, are feeling the effect of the economy and are closing their fucking doors.

Yes, loyal readers of ATR, times are fucking tough, which brings me to what really has been grinding my gears. This past month, ACTAVIS which manufacturers the wonderful and insatiable 30 MG Roxicodone painkiller that I used to take on a regular basis, like 6-7 times a day, has shut their doors due to the economic crisis and loss of money based on people abusing their medication.

I was absolutely abusing their medication, so I guess I can be blamed partially, but did you think I got the nickname Zmillz with DA Pkillz for nothing?? It took years of getting high, drug abuse, straight addiction and withdrawals to get that moniker!

Think about this. The one thing I get pleasure from now in the shitty fucking economy is gone. My money, my soon to be apartment, my life, my friends and now my fucking Pain Killers are gone. I know the readers of ATR can relate with me when I say that the only thing left to do is make fun of retarded people to make us all feel better!

Making fun of retarded people is a drug of it’s own. It makes us feel better about ourselves as we look down on them and go to sleep at night knowing, and thanking god, that even though our lives are shit, and our painkillers are gone…at least we are not retarded.

-The Professional PKilla

ATR writes… FOLLOWING THIS DRUG-INDUCED RANT ZMILLS ALONG WITH HIS PKILLS POSTED THE FOLLOWING AD ON CRAIGSLIST…. ZMILLS, WE LAUGH AT YOUR MISFORTUNE.

Clive Driscoll Clubs The Weakened Prey.

SNAKE writes... AFTER BITING REAL WORLD BROOKLYN, I WAITED FOR THE VENOM TO SPREAD THROUGH THE CAST. WHILE I STARED AND TAUNTED MY PREY I SAW THAT PEOPLE WERE WATCHING THIS ATTACK. CLIVE DRISCOLL WAS ESPECIALLY ENTHUSED. IN FACT HE BEGAN CLUBBING THE WEAKENED VICTIM WITH HIS FAKE ARM...

CLIVE writes...

First of all, I just want to say that it is about time someone came out and bashed this season’s Real World. Well done, Snake. Another successful bite. Having said that, this season should not just be snake bit but castrated (wait, Katelyn already was).

Being selected to be on the Real World is like getting the Golden Ticket of reality t.v. The producers, Bunim and Murray, one of whom is dead, so let me change that to Bunim or Murray, the one producer that is alive, is your Willy Wonka. Every year thousands upon thousands of fame-seeking nutcases send in their audition tapes, or to keep the analogy going, buy bars of chocolate. The tapes then get filtered down by the casting directors (who should be fired for this season a la Donald Trump to Andrew Dice Clay) who can alter any normal person’s life into a life of Gauntlet/Duel appearances, bar tours, and constant mockery on E!'s The Soup.

As Snake mentioned, these fucking moron casting directors selected not one but two people from Salt Lake City, Utah. As far as I know there are two things good about Salt Lake City, Utah, one is Karl "The Mailman" Malone,

() and.... nothing else. Also, correct me if I am wrong, doesn't the Real World consist of 7 cast members. 21 seasons of 7 cast members and this group of shmohawks (courtesy of Larry David) decide to cast 8. The final decision in putting the worst cast together in RW history must have been so hard that they decided they had to include the transgender AND the boring guy with great abs. Yet, here we are today, approaching the final episode of the worst season ever, or as I call it, my own personal glass elevator that will set me free of this nonsense world.

I'VE GOT A GOLDEN TICKET, I'VE GOT A GOLDEN TWINKLE IN MY EYE:

Picture each cast member’s initial reaction to getting the call (finding their ticket) to be chosen for the Real World…

Chet: So excited that he almost touched a boobie for the first time. Instead he wrapped his purple scarf around his neck and started masturbating furiously to pre-taped episodes of Carson Daily hosting TRL.

Ryan: Tried to return the engagement ring he bought his girlfriend, but found out it was non-refundable. Afterwards, he googled Pranks and started shining his shoes.

Carl: (Wait, who is Carl? Carl is Katelynn’s birth name.) Carl found out and wanted to really flip the script on the nation. Carl booked a plane to Thailand, bought a pair of booty shorts and went to a back-alley abortion clinic and said, "Make this work."

Scott: After finding out, Scott not pleased enough with his abs, spent 248 hours in the gym working out. Only stopping to check himself out in the mirror and to spot his workout buddy who happens to be into guys.

Sarah: Bitches and complains she got chosen because that is all she knows how to do. Feeling her sleeve of tattoos was not enough to make her stand out, she decides that back when she was 10 she shouldn’t have shared a sleeping bag with her father. He is now an estranged sexual molester and she the whiny-cunt of a victim.

Devyn: Wipes the cum of three casting directors off her face. She is so thrilled that she is chosen, she offers them the opportunity to tittyfuck her as well. Disgusted by her nipple-to-boobie ratio, they decline and ask her to leave.

J.D.: Has no family and no friends, he has no boyfriend because he is not gay, he is fucking faggot. JD celebrated by fucking the blowhole of his favorite dolphin, Fudgie. Not satisfied by Fudgie, JD then paid a homeless man 20 bucks to provide that particular golden twinkle in his eye.

Baya: Is so excited she has bee chosen and given a chance to escape her hometown of Salt Lake City. That night celebrating with her hippie parents she goes into a dance frenzy, falls and fucks up her two front teeth, leaving her with a noticeable gap. (I would still fuck her btw, she is hot.)

The Cast:

They arrive at the factory and the camera starts rolling. The nation finds out this year has a twist: 8 cast members. 4 guys and 4 girls? Or is it 5 guys and 3 girls? Or is it 2 guys and 6 girls?

What happened to the good old Real World Casting Stereotypes? The gay guy, the bumpkin, the bitch, the hot girl, the black guy, the weird guy, and the x-factor. Over the first 20 years, these tried-and-true stereotypes have provided us with great characters like the Miz, that Oakland Raiders cheerleader, Choral, multiple overly gay men, Tyree "you stabbed my father,” etc. This year we have no black guy. (To hold shit down.)

Instead we have Scott or Wonka's Mike Teavee. Teavee was, as his last name implied, a television fanatic, seldom away from his television set. Instead of TV, Scott is seldom away from the gym. The fucking moron has the opportunity to get any girl he wants on any night of the week and opts to play pool, check emails, workout, and build a love/hate relationship with a transgender. Remember the episode where, Katelynn has no money (because she spent god knows how much to clip her penis and turn it into a walking black hole looking to suck in anything within range) and Scott comes in and, despite their constant arguing, provides her with some money. I remember screaming out, “fuck” really loud. Typical douche. Scott deserves the same fate as Teavee, to be shrunk. Scott should stripped of all his steriods and given the same procedure as Katelynn since his nuts have already shrunk from the lack of pussy during this season. Fuck you, Scott, you fucking ungrateful piece of shit.

Speaking of Katelynn, the similarities between her and Arthur Slugworth are remarkable. They are both ugly as sin and evil. Slugworth is looking for the formula for the "everlasting gobstopper" and Katelynn is looking for the formula for the "everlasting nightmare." SHE HAS FOUND IT. Watching her flock around the house in booty shorts, make out with guys and girls, pole dance, and even just speak words has kept me up many a night, crying and asking why. Why hasn't Murray or Bunim said, "This is too much... We like nudity, it gets us ratings but this is just fucking wrong." She could wear the crown for ‘Someone-Who-Grosses-Me-The-Fuck-Out-On-Sight.’ Of course, in the movie it turns out that Slugworth is really Mr. Wilkerson, just like Katelynn pretending to something she is clearly not, a woman. Fuck you, you fucking disgusting piece of shit.

Speaking of pieces of shit, JD will take that crown. This midget dolphin trainer, like all gay men, thinks he is better than everyone else. I hate his posture, I hate the way he talks and looks. He can only be likened to the Oompa Loompas. First, he would fit in as an Oompa Loompa for his height. Second, he would fit in because he likes banging guys. I am sorry to drop the bomb, but hundreds of little orange men working in a chocolate factory with no women in sight? Excuse the obvious pun, but there is definitely some fudge packing. JD had the moment this season where he broke a glass table. I don't remember why and I don't care. Oh now I do, he is a drama queen who instead of singing catchy tunes that teach lessons, he sucks pole. Fuck you, you fucking cock-sucking piece of shit.

You can't say “cock-sucking” and not think of Chet. If he is straight and has never had a cock in or around his mouth, than I will jump out the window of my apartment. Chet is Augustus Gloop, the gluttonous overeater. Chet is not overeating, though, he is being overviewed. Every episode Chet dominates with his ambiguous behavior. Am I the only one who thinks he is on Ryan's balls a bit too much? He got his bowtie in a frenzy that one episode where Ryan didn't come home on time. We have to watch week after week as Chet hosts this show, or applies for his MTV job, or almost comes out, or pretends to like Scott’s friend to mask his cock loving. Additionally, he has worn the same outfits the whole season. You unoriginal fuck. You need to finally fall into that chocolate river and come out of the closet. I am sorry, mormon or not, if you are 21 years or older and have not touched a boob, you are gay. If you are not gay, you should think about becoming gay. Fuck you, you fucking virgin piece of shit.

One person who is clearly not a virgin is Devyn. As Beyonce says, “A Diva is the female version of a Hustler.” And as I say, “An annoying slutty cunt is the my version of a Diva.” If I hear Devyn liken herself to a Diva one more time, I am going to cut the fake titty out of her and suffocate her with it. Devyn, like Wonka's Veruca Salt, regularly exerts petulant behavior in order to get what she desires. Devyn spends her time on the phone talking to the 6-8 guys she teases in order to get what she wants, money. When I look at Devyn, I can't help but think she takes monster dumps. I hate how she wears that sleep mask also (just a sidenote). Devyn deserves the same fate as Veruca, whose endgame comes in Wonka's Nut Sorting Room. No explanation needed. Fuck you, you fucking Diva-wanna-be piece of shit.

Baya, oh Baya. Do people in Salt Lake City not fuck? She is really hot, she moves well, she has a bit of a gapper but that just gives u a target, like trying to score a goal. Baya is Violet Beauregarde, a tomboy who exhibits a more competitive spirit than the four other ticket winners. Baya does herself no justice by dressing in sweatpants and hoodies every episode. Show some skin, you should be pole dancing, not that mutant. Just as Violet chews her gum constantly, Baya constantly is not speaking as if she is chewing so much gum she can't speak. There are some episodes where I didn’t even see her once. Damn shame because I actually like her. She will suffer the same fate as Violet and turn into a giant blueberry. Baya will keep putting of her dancing dreams and after realizing that she missed the opportunity of a lifetime and took a back seat this season will comfort herself with food. After gaining 70 pounds, her DJ'ing dreams will end, and back to Salt Lake City. Fuck you, you fucking hot piece of shit.

Someone else on this season, I remotely like is Ryan or in Wonka's case, Charlie. Ryan is likable and good hearted like Charlie. But for fucks’ sake man, you are on the Real World. Have you not watched in the past? Guys like you are cleaning up on a nightly basis. By episode 4 you are supposed to break up with the home girlfriend and bang the hot room mate, Baya. It is a science. Did the PTSD take away your libido? Like Charlie, Ryan would rather hang out with his family than go out there and bang some hot ass. Charlie could have walked down the street with that golden ticket and banged some serious whores or in his case got jerked off (he was 11ish). Ryan could have banged Baya if he wanted to, and then moved onto the millions of NYC girls who would suck a dick for ten minutes of fame on MTV. But no, this fuck had to do the right thing like Charlie. Where did that get you though? Back in Iraq, with no pussy, you fucked up. Fuck you, you fucking honest piece of shit.

Last but not least, Sarah, the tattooed bitch who, as Snake pointed out, looks like the dude from Blink 182. I never thought she was remotely good looking but has she gained 20-30 pounds since the show started? What is with this season and choosing people with some serious issues? Transgender, JD's abusive father, Sarah's sexually abusive father, Ryan's army experience, Baya's SLC background, Chet's lackof pussy, Scott's steroid issue, Devyn's porn past. Sarah is Wonka's...actually fuck that, Sarah just sucks. Nothing good about her at all. What did the casting directors see in her? "Oh, she has a sleeve of tattoos, she is edgy." Yeah doing finger paintings with 5 year olds is real edgy. Sarah is the kind of girl who has a FUPA and hides it well and has a pussy that smells worse than curry mixed with an overweight kids sweat after a rigorous game of dodgeball. Fuck you, you fucking worst casted Real World member piece of shit.

YOU LOSE. GOOD DAY, SIR!!!

In summary, Bunim or Murray (the living one), should fire every casting director involved with this season’s meltdown. I blame myself for tuning in week after week hoping for Ryan to bang a chick, or Baya to show some skin, or Chet to cum instantly after touching his first vagina, or Devyn to not be on the phone, or Katelynn to get drunk reach inside herself and pull out Carl's penis, or Scott to jam that pool stick up his ass so far it comes out of his nose, or JD to go down on his roomates while they are asleep, or Sarah to not piss me off. Fuck this season, fuck Bunim or Murray, whichever one is alive. You all lose, you all wasted the golden ticket. There is no glass elevator for any of you, just a swift kick in the nuts, vag, or vagnuts from me if I ever see any of you walking the streets of NYC.

Congratulations, Real World. You've just been Driscolled.

-Clyde

Snake Bit: Real World Brooklyn.

This is the true story... of eight strangers(even though two of them are from Salt Lake City)... picked to live in a house...work together(none of them work together) and have their lives taped... to find out what happens... when people stop being polite... and start getting real(boring)...The Real World.


Every Wednesday I waste an hour of my life hoping that something will actually happen. Something crazy is bound to happen, right? It's kind of like the quiet before the storm. Only I have given up, and now literally wait for an actual storm to destroy the house and entire cast. A tornado or tsunami would be fine. Even a fire would be sufficient.

First of all, Brooklyn! Come on! Real World Brooklyn? What's next? Real World Omaha? Real World Boca Raton? Who cares about Brooklyn. Here's a more exciting scenario: Real World My Parent's Basement. This is the third season in New York. Put on your creative pants and pick a better city.

Secondly, this is possibly the worst cast ever created. Here’s how you know that you fucked up. While reviewing the final cast members, you look at the roster and realized that you picked two people from Salt Lake City, Utah. Seriously? If you were going to pick a city and choose two people from that area, would Salt Lake City be the one?Bangor, Maine would have been a smarter choice. The 0-16 Detroit Lions were casted better. Pacman Jones and his crew is a smarter choice. Keenan Thompson on SNL is even better.

MTV should think about kicking people off the season like one of the Challenges ie; The Gauntlet or The Duel. Those shows have excitement. The people are so worried about going home, that they throw out all inhibition and act on animal instincts. It makes for good t.v. Instead they allow this mind numbing juxtaposition of real life and common street trash.

In the beginning of every episode they provide a brief recap reminding us of previous events. How dare you remind me! Why even do that? Here's a generic recap that can be used before every episode:
"Previously on the Real World, Katelynn grossed everyone out when she walked around in her underwear exposing her bulge and talking about her procedure. Ryan made fun of her and the other cast mates. Chet wore skinny jeans and tried to break through as a TRL VJ only to realize that he is the only person who didn't know the show got cancelled. Scott worked out and ate more protein while Devyn flirted with him and stayed up late talking on the phone. Baya got accepted into a dancing program but decided that walking around the house in sweatpants and talking to the tattooed girl took up too much time. J.D. wore bright colored bandanas and overly exaggerated v-neck shirts."
Then start the show.

Incase you haven’t watched this season(I’m very jealous of you), I have provided very detailed character descriptions that will allow you to understand what normal viewers go through every week.

Katelynn:
She's your typical girl next door. If you live next door to the Adam's Family or a back alley in Vietnam. Oh man, I just imagined her procedure and threw up on myself!

Scott:
Abs are a good way to impress girls but are ineffective if you never meet any of them. He has the personality of a punching dummy that you get from The Sports Authority.

Ryan:
He is the only person who has potential. On any other season he would fit in as funny cast member. Instead his pranks go unappreciated and he is forced to create his own silent films. I bet a normal day in Gettysburg is more exciting than his stint on the show. If I were him, I’d ask for a refund.

Chet:
He thinks he’s some innovator with fresh new ideas. In Salt Lake City, he probably has a unique style. That’s compared to conservative mormons though. In NYC and LA everyone wears skinny jeans. He tries to stick out, but if I saw him on the subway I would just think he was the tour manager for Yellowcard.

Baya:
I can’t tell if she is somewhat attractive or just looks decent compared to the other mutants. What I do know is the only thing worse than one cast member from SLC who doesn’t drink or have sex, is two cast members from SLC that don’t drink or have sex. She rarely gets drunk and hasn’t hooked up once. Ryan has a girlfriend. So what! Find some random dude and take him to the jacuzzi.

Sarah:
She should team up with Ryan in the army. Her scratchy, whiny voice should be used to torture POWs. I also keep getting her mixed up with Tom DeLonge from Blink 182.

J.D.:
Until last episode, I thought his name was D.J. Probably the least exciting gay guy in Real World history.

Devyn:
The only thing worse than a know-it-all, is a know-it-all who doesn’t know anything. She was the Miss Teen USA in 2005. A great prerequisite for an eventual coke fiend, or centerfold for Hustler magazine...or both.

Thank you MTV for wasting my time. You took advantage of millions of viewers. Now you have to put these idiots on the Challenges. Good luck with that.

Congratulations Real World. You just got Snake Bit.

-Snake Jacobs

Another Great Save, Digitally.

SHARK SHARKSLEY MAKES HIS ACCORDING TO ROYALTY DEBUT WITH A POST ABOUT ROBOT DOCTORS THAT GET IN THERE AND DO SHIT:

"Quick get help, this woman might have bronchitis."

*note: as you can see, this lil guy can handle any emergency situation, medically. Don't ask him to change your tires.

-Shark Sharksley

Snake Bit: Eric Devendouche.

In honor of the NCAA tournament I figure I'd kick off my new segment "Snake Bit" with a verbal beat down of Syracuse guard and complete scumbag Eric Devendorf. You would think that the fourth best player on the team (fifth if that idiot Onuaku had any offensive game) would have a little more class and composure. Not Devendouche though. He has been broadcasting his classless ignorance since the 9th grade, when he got tired of the kids calling him Devendork, took off his glasses, got a tattoo on his neck and transferred to Oak Hill Academy.


He wasn't fooling anyone though. His wannabe thug life continued in college. Earlier this season, he got thrown out of school when he kicked a girl's car and then threw her to the ground. Somehow he was allowed back in. Later he was pulled over and given a ticket by the Syracuse Police. You think Gerry Mac ever got pulled over at Syracuse? No way. 

Devendorf recently stamped his ticket in the Douchebag Hall of Fame when he hit a three vs. UConn after the buzzer thinking that he won the game. He jumped on the scorer's table and began celebrating while everyone looked at him in shock. It wasn't until the scorekeeper grabbed his foot and said, "The shot didn't count. Get the fuck off the table, you delinquent bastard." This will surely not be the end of his antics.

I can see the future for Devendouche.

Here's a short timeline:

March 2009- Arizona State beats Syracuse in the second round. Devendorf accuses team of being lazy. Cheerleader accuses Devendorf of date rape.

June 2009- Devendorf prematurely declares for the draft. He shows up to the green room without being invited, wearing his grill that he bought with an advance. Security asks him to leave. Then he pushes a girl to the ground and calls her a cunt. The commissioner asks, "Who is that guy?"

Three hours later- He gets pulled over with a gun and an empty bottle of Hennessey.

Two months later- Jim Boeheim pulls some strings and gets him a tryout with the Nuggets. Joking around he calls J.R. Smith the N word and gets punched in the mouth. Carmelo Anthony even kicks the Syracuse Alum in the kidney. Stephen A. Smith officially declares Devendorf a bust.

September 2009- Devendork signs a contract to play in Turkey. He is the sixth man and spends his off time traveling around Europe hoping to be confused with Paul Wall and K Fed.

2011- After two seasons in Turkey, Devendorf returns to the U.S. He's seen trying to get into Lebron James party with Dajuan Wagner. They get denied.

2012- He gets paid 500 dollars each time for submitting posts on fmylife.com

Congratulations Eric Devendorf. You just got Snake Bit.

-Snake Jacobs

What's G? Cocaine.

What is it to be a G? To be a Gangster? 

Is it to roll a dirty blunt? Is it to sprinkle snow on the peaks? Is it to stay up all weekend having conversations about Polluters of Africa with a complete stranger? Is it to chase a rat around your living room with a hammer and make holes in the floor until you bash its head in? Is it to play pool until the 8ball cracks in half because you secretly hope it is a mini-pinata filled with nose candy? Is it to use a 5'5'' Mexican to wedge the bathroom door shut while you blow lines? 

What's G? Do you really want to know?

All of the above. Do coke. Coke adds life. 

-J.Storchavells

Season’s Beatings.

An excerpt from my eagerly anticipated collection of erotic essays:

Chapter 9: Season's Beatings - A Holiday Happy Ending Handsky.

December 25, 2007
New York, NY

Family Christmases cut short because employers force their subordinates to come into work on December 26th is a fucking travesty. But in this one instance, I made do.

After hours of driving, I was finally 15 minutes from the house. Cody called me up and asked if I wanted to get down on paying for a stripper to come over. I said, “Yeah, ok.” Wasn't enthused, been there, done that. Not trying to spend a lot of money for something that wouldn’t be too special without drilldos involved. Still, a decent night could be ahead.

I arrive home to find Cody Chalmers and Clive Driscoll sitting huddled over Clive's Macbook googling "erotic oriental massage." It was only 7:45 pm, but it felt much later after a long day with family and a longer drive home. I wasn’t trying to go on a crazy adventure into NYC, but after no more than 3 minutes of convincing on Cody's part and halfhearted excuses on my part, I caved. We watched the Suns lose to the Lakers and by 7:50 we were on the road. Headed into the great unknown of Asian Beat Offs.

We got a little lost in the city because Cody's GPS lead us astray, but we made it to the address 5 minutes late for our 9 o'clock appointment. (Yes, we made an appointment. Shit closed at 10! We had to make sure they could work us.) We parked Cody's car in the adjacent lot and walked up to the door. The door seemed to belong to an apartment building. It was in between an upscale Chinese restaurant called and a fun little Mexican joint that had closed early and had a sign that said, "closed early hapy xmas tksc." No capitals or punctuation.

The "Aromaspa - 3rd floor" gold sign was around the size of a normal sheet of paper and was barely visible from the street, but Cody’s keen eye spotted it anyway and pressed the buzzer. I was envisioning an interaction over the intercom something like this:

“Herro?”
“Uhhh, yeah. We’re here to get jerked off?”
“HO K” (bzzzz)

I was disappointed. They let us in without checking for verification.

We made it up the first flight of stairs as Clive said: "I'm going to try very hard not to, but I know I'm going to laugh." We rounded the corner to the second flight of stairs, which had a large heavy door at its base that was propped open by a phone book. I was trying not to laugh as I walked up the stairs, and as I saw that phone book I realized the gravity of the situation..... Steve Nash wasn't going to be the only guy getting beaten by someone with an asian name on Christmas.

We get to the door and Cody presses another buzzer (we nominated him as the leader of this operation seeing as how he had gotten a happy ending massage (or 2 or 3) when he was in Vegas a few months ago and had been the driving force behind the night. Apparently you pay for the massage and have to barter for the release. Going in we knew it'd be $80 for the massage and the beat off could be as much as $70 or as little as $50). They let us in, again without checking our credentials. The three of us walk in all wearing hoodies and sweatpants and the woman behind the desk (asian) looks at us and goes, "ohhhh re got babies" suddenly 3 more women (asian) appear from nowhere, all laughing and giggling about us being babies. The one behind the desk asks Cody, "how ord ale you" Cody says 22. She hits him back with an "ok just massages, just massages." He pays his $80 and gets taken away by one of the other girls. I’m thinking, whoa wait a sec, just massages? I’m here to get my dick jerked, lady. But, I pay my $80 skeptically and get taken back by the most busted one of them all. She definitely was not hideous, but her mouth could only be described as horse-like when open. She asks me how ord I am and I also say 22, she says, "ohhh you ale young, I rike you" and slapped my ass as she led me to the locker room where Cody and Clive had just been led.

The locker room was just a room with a whole bunch of Ikea lockers side by side. They left us alone and I go, "Yo are we supposed to get naked?" There was no response. I guessed the answer was yes, and what I had been handed by Horseface turned out to be a little robe and not a sheet. The robe was seersucker and only went down to short short level. There was a serious danger of somebody with Larry-David-Long-Balls having them dangle out from underneath the robe. I got naked under the robe by putting it on first and then removing my boxers (no homo) and put on the sandals that were resting at the base of the locker. They were surprisingly comfortable over-the-foot sandals with a criss cross design. When I was ready, I walked out of the locker room and saw all of the girls waiting for us. We stood awkwardly in a line and Horseface took my hand and guided me to the shower room.

The shower room was elevated about two or three steps (all of which were covered with white towels). I almost walked on the towels with my shoes, but Horsey raised her voice and said "shoooes off" (in that asiany sing song). The shower room had two little cubicles. Each one was equipped with a padded bed, a shower with a removable head, a tub of water and a large sponge. As soon as she walked me in there she disrobed me and had me standing butt ass naked. Within seconds the other chick walked Cody in and he just looked in and saw me and my Chimney Sweeper in full glory. We both start laughing and he quickly turns and walks back out of the room. I covered up my dick and balls and turned around and tell Horseface, "Yo close this curtain." She does as Cody comes back in and goes in the next cubicle. My chick starts warming up the water and tells me to lie face down. The "pillow" is some kind of weird shit that is shaped like one of those memory foam pillows but is actually hard and allows water to go through it. A washcloth is over this. I rest my head down facing away from her so I can laugh to myself freely.

She asks, “How iz za whezer outside?” “Not too bad,” I say and I begin to realize I’ll be cracking up throughout this entire experience. She starts soaping me up as the water is finally warm enough and she is very thorough getting all up in my ass. When she approaches my ass, I instinctually clench up my cheeks. She says, “Relax, relax.” I relax and let her clean my ass. Basically she just runs her hands through the crack and cleans it. Then she spreads my legs apart and sprays the soap out. My legs are still apart she spreads my ass open, peers in, and says, "Arr crean!" (in sing song). This was the most hilarious and most surreal experience I’d ever had in my life up to this point and I somehow contained my explosive laughter. I would pay money to have a picture of her face from the point of view of my crean ass as she gazed into it. I would frame this picture.


She continues to soap my back and massages me at the same time. As of this moment I’m quite pleased I decided to pay 80 bucks for this, even if there is only massage as the front desk chick claimed. She turns me over looks at my dick and goes, "may I?" to which I respond, "You may." She soaps up my dick and balls and cleans them. I'm medium at this point. maybe around a 3.5 out of 10 scale of hardness. This dickcleaning only takes like 10 seconds and then the table shower is over. I stand up and she dries me off, in the process of which I move up to a 5 out of 10 as she dries off my junk, which I enjoy. She holds my everhardening cock in her hand through the towel and looks up at me and says, “Nice dong.” Sing song. Then she puts the robe on me and guides me out of the shower room. I put my sandals on and she walks me around the corner to the massage room.

The massage rooms are much larger than they need to be with the bed in one corner and a small table filled with lotions and oils in another. Didn’t see much else in the room. So I disrobe and dissandal and walk over to the bed. I lie face down and she leaves me alone for 30 seconds. I start laughing to the bed hole and I'm shivering cuz I'm wet and it’s a little chilly. But as soon as she comes in, oils my back and gets going I warm right up. She massages the shit out my back and neck and ass and legs and arms (as she’s massaging my hands she cracks my fingers individually and as she does this she makes the noise sound louder by either snapping her finger at the same time or making a noise with her mouth...I found this part perplexing). The whole time she’s trying to make convo like, "this your first time?" and I go "well I've gotten a massage before but never paid for it" and somehow she was fascinated that this was my first time.

I said, "So you don't celebrate Christmas huh?" (in the back of my mind thinking, Communist China has no religion) She goes, "I cereblate it, if you give me a plesent" almost trying to be sexual. Since I wasn't attracted to her at all I just kind of laughed at her attempt more than anything. I asked her where she was from and I was expecting her to say Shanghai, but surprisingly she was Korean. Her name was Suzie. No. It wasn’t. I told her I had a close friend who was Korean and she was fascinated by this. I say, "I heard the women over there love American men..." She hits me back with "ohhh heheh" not really loving the comment, then she goes, "oh you tly having a Korean grrfriend," to which I said nothing. She asked me where I lived, I said, “NJ...Hoboken.” (not where I live). She asked where I worked, I said, “Applebee’s.” She didn’t know what that was. “It’s a restaurant,” I inform her. “Waitress?” she queries. “No. Waiter.” Really, Suzie? Really?

She tells me she’s a massage teacher and teaches all the other girls. She tells me she’s been in this country for 6 years, and that she’s been massaging/beating guys off for 6 years. I deduce that she moved to this country to beat people off. The massage was great, I mean very hard and deep and, with the exception of a couple times when she got too close to my a-hole, very relaxing. Overall I could have done with less ass tickling and more feet/hand massaging, but if there is a next time, I’ll voice my desires. She brought a hot towel out and put that over my back and rubbed that and pushed down on my neck. It was a nice end to the face down part of the massage.


She then said "asghag heagqe aggha, jsagea aegaggga?" after making her repeat this 3 times I figured out she said: "you have time reft, just massage?" (it seems as though I must have made her repeat just about everything she said the whole time I was there). I knew I had to bring my A-bartering-game at this point:

Me "what does that mean?"
Her: "Just massage? Just massage?"
Me (turn on my side and show her my cock): "can you massage my front?"
Her (pointing to my cock): "This?" (makes international sign for whack off)
Me: "Can you do that?"
Her: "Yeah you want it?"
Me: "Can you do that?"
Her: "You want me do it?"
Me (realizing that I must say giver her some sort of affirmative in some way, shape, or form): “Yes.”
Her: “Tuln ober, baby.”

She closes the door and comes over as I turn onto my back. She has hard nipples. General THO is in the house. Titty Hard On.
Her: "Is this your first time?"
Me: "Uhhhh, what?"
Her (putting one leg up on the table and massaging/oiling my cock trying to get me hard): "is this your first time?"
Me: "Uhhhh, I've had sex before if that's what you mean"
Her (singsong): "Uh uh, no sex"
Me: "Yeah, obviously no sex"
Her: "Hand job? First time?"
Me: "Ahaha, no, I've gotten beaten off before. Just, uh, never paid for it"
Her: "Oooo, ok" - she starts blowing air/humming on my cock from like an inch and a half away and I’m reaching 7, 8

It's an aight beat off so far, but that blowing puts it to another level comedically. The noises she’s making trying to be sexy are hysterical and I'm thinking this is going to take a while. I'm trying to savor it but as she’s humming on it and doing and over the head hand rub I just think about how great it will be to pop in her face and I get up to a 9. I'm about to burst out laughing, but I’m really trying not to make any movements that would tip her off as to when I may or may not bust so I clench my cheeks to prepare for nut. I definitely don't think I'm close at this point and I'm about to tell her to start using both hands, but then she starts leaning close to my dick and humming even more and I’m thinking aww this would be a perfect time to shoot. Within 15 seconds I'm shooting. I got it definitely all over her blouse and she doesn't even really notice at first. Then she does as it gets all over her hands. She’s trying to wipe it off on my stomach.

Her: "you make rots of mirk!"
Me: "yep."

She literally runs out of the room and I want to burst out laughing maniacally but I hold it in. She comes back 30 seconds later with another hot towel, she rubs the cum off my stomach, dick and balls with the hot towel, which feels great. She then proceeds to squeeze my dick like a toothpaste tube on a mission to extract every last drop. She makes another comment about my cum which I forget and then I get up she’s still hottoweling my cocknballs. She puts the robe on and as she wraps it around me plays with my balls again through the robe (a hilarious move). She brings me back to the locker room and says, "Youl fliends are waiting" I immediately burst out laughing and she comes back in the room and says, "Hey..." and slaps my ass. I continue to laugh uproariously as my friends tell me to chill. I cannot chill. She takes the key out of my robe and unlocks my locker, she says hey again and slaps my ass again, hugs me and says "I rike you." The entire time I’m just laughing, and I think she slides a finger in my crack again. She starts to take my robe off potentially leaving me naked in front of both of my friends, and I say, "Whoa chill, I got it from here." She leaves and I start laughing even harder than before. I want to rehash with them but I can’t form a sentence in between laughs. One of either Cody or Clive proceeds to say: "Guys I have something to admit, I like having my asshole fingered." We all start dying. We start discussing the lack of a barter for the beating, and we're excited that we don't have to tip. I just want to jet out but we agree giving a $20 is a great compromise. I get dressed and get my $20 ready, we leave and we all hand our $20's on the way out, my girl slaps my ass and pinches my ear on the way out as I continue to laugh.

The laughing continues all the way down the stairs and my friends are trying to get me to chill. It is impossible. We walk outside into the chill winter air, all of us wearing nothing but hoodies and tshirts underneath. The cold doesn't bother us and I feel as spry as a spring chicken. I say this out loud, “I feel as spry as a spring chicken,” because it is the first time I've ever been able to apply this phrase to my own life. A consensus is made among us. Chinese food is in order. General Tho's bebe.

-Storchy