“I got a goddamn special cake made for you.”
“Let me give you some advice: If you get a goddamn special cake made for me then give it to me. Don’t call me about it. Don’t send text messages. Don’t Twitter that shit. Just give me the cake and let me be the judge on how fucking special it is. And if you’re gonna be bitchy about it I’m not gonna lie if the cake is shitty just to calm you down. I will be like “This goddamn cake is not special. It is shitty and you’d better take it the fuck back to the store and get a better one before we have serious problem on our hands.” You don’t make the fucking rules here and you do not tell me how to fucking eat cake. And you know I like ice-cream cake so why isn’t this box cold? And you’d better put that fucking butter knife down.”
-T-Bag Jones
“Ouija Boards + King Diamond = Haunted Email!
I know for a fact that all of you out there are not listening to enough King Diamond. Whether it’s his solo material or the classics he recorded as frontman for Merciful Fate you need to get on that shit right now or we here at the blog are going to start questioning how down you are. I mean – look at the fucking pictures of this guy! He’s like taking a class called “How To Be Metal 101.” But there can be a little too much of a good thing sometimes…
The other night I was hanging out with these Goth chicks I met on the internet and one of them brought over a Ouija Board. Now I don’t believe in the dark arts but I was trying to set off an orgy in my guest bedroom so I went along with the game. It was creepy because the only thing the board kept spelling was “King Diamond.” I was all like whoa.
So the next day I start getting these emails in my Yahoo account addressed to Melissa…the name of the skeleton King Diamond carries around on stage and the subject of several Merciful Fate songs. So I’m 99% sure that King Diamond is haunting my inbox.
How do you set the SPAM filter to take care of that?
-T-Bag Jones”
“My plan to save America from itself by using an army of fat children to become professional models and therefore making me rich has had a MAJOR breakthrough. I may have found the answer to all my prayers. I present you with Adam. I found him at the local state college where he’s a freshman. Rarely have I seen a fat youth with such drive and devotion. Take a fucking look at that shirt. It’s like he’s warning that chick who’s on his team chugging that beer what’s gonna go down. Like a proud peacock Adam is showing his bright, fat colors and parlaying it into getting some fucking poontang. I’m gonna turn him into the Kate Moss of fat child models. Fuck you America. Fuck you in the face.”
-T-Bag Jones
“Today I got my custom Lil Wayne shirt in the mail. Fuck you – that’s why.”
-T-Bag Jones
“Here’s an update on my business of making fat kids into professional models in order to save America by making myself rich.
There are a lot of goddamn fat kids to pick from. Too many of them are sissy blubber wads who cry when you yell at them and won’t show a little skin for the guy at Sears when we get some headshots done. Fine – whatever. But like all good things that come to those who wait, I’ve found my first model. Scott here is from Nebraska. He likes Nintendo, rap and eating the fuck out of everything he can find. His parents just GAVE him to me so that’s cool. I’ve got some Great Expectations action going on here. He’ll be earning me a couple grand a week once I get him a haircut and a job as the spokes person for bacon.
You hear me coming America. Coming right in your face.”
-T-Bag Jones
“It’s finally happening for me! Today my plan to save America from itself by using an army of fat child models to make me rich hit the tipping point. You know who the new face of children’s clothing at the Big & Tall store is? My “biggest” client Stuart (heh…biggest..) is! This shit pays him a shitload of money and they also feed him at events so that’ll save me a ton of operating expenses because keeping that kid full up is like owning Operation: Dumbo Drop. Stuart just took a giant fart on the head of America and the times are about to change.
Fuck. Yeah.”
- T-Bag Jones
“OK – not to harsh on everyone’s New Years buzz but America is FUCKED! For Christmas my sister got me a trip to one of them Native American reservations that’s got casinos and shit. Long story short – I lost a TON of cash the first night I was there and got kicked out of my hotel. I ended up with this dude in his apartment and we ate some peyote and built a sweat lodge in his bathroom. I was tripping BALLS. My spirit guide was the Hooters Owl. The owl spoke to me about economics and politics and the state of these united states. Then he melted into a puddle of hot chocolate and I went blind for a day. When I finally came to I’d had a complete epiphany on how to fix America…I was going to get rich. You see, if I get rich I can stimulate the economy by creating jobs at all the nudie bars I open and I’ll bring education to the children when I open schools for young ladies with emotional problems. And I’ll fix the superstructure of cites by building these clubs and schools on the same roads.
So in order to fix America by making myself rich I’m gonna embrace two of the things that are killing our culture – fat children and modeling. Fat kids are lazy and fucking entitled just like models. So I’m gonna round up some fat kids and put them to work modeling. This will teach them the value of the dollar and force adult models to learn real skills when I replace them with my army of fat children. Of course I’ll be taking 90% of all earnings because who else will save America if I don’t?
So take notice fat kids! No more sitting around like a slob with your stuffed animals crying about not being picked for the baseball team. We’ve got work to do! Now fucking knuckle up for your country!”
-T-Bag Jones
“So last night I went to McDonald’s and ordered three big macs, two large fries and a Mr. Pibb which is like generic Dr. Pepper,but I digress. The dicktard at the window gave me my bags of grub and i was all the way home before I found out I was missing a Big Mac. What. The. Fuck. So I ran up inside that mother fucker and cut to the front of the line. I demanded my missing sandwich but they were all like “sorry sir but you don’t have a receipt and who eats three big macs by themselves?” I’d about fucking had it at that point so I ordered 200 McNuggets, 10 apple pies, and 10 large fries. I paid for that shit in cash and then laughed while they tried to make that much food and still feed the other assholes in line. When the food came out I ate my reciept and threw all the food on the ground and stomped on it. “fuck you and fuck your McNuggets!” then I left. I’m still hungry, but the look on the faces of those retards was priceless.”
-T-Bag Jones
“Why am I just finding out about this?!!!”
-T Bag Jones
Minors in R.I. can be strippers
From Projo.com
PROVIDENCE –– Rhode Island teens under 18 can’t work with power saws or bang nails up on roofs.
But dance at strip clubs? Sure. Just as long as the teens submit work permits, and are off the stripper’s pole by 11:30 on school nights.
It’s enough to surprise even those in America’s mecca of striptease and sin –– Las Vegas.
“Everybody buzzes about ‘Nevada and Sin City, tsk, tsk,’ ” said Edie Cartwright, spokeswoman for the Nevada attorney general’s office. “But we regulate it.”
………. Get rest of story here.
