New Year's $teve
Party til your freaking head explodes.
Before I go on telling you about the party we'll be having this New Year's $teve, I'd first like to address something pretty serious: Grapefruit Juice. This nearly unmentionable juice is remarkable for one reason and one reason alone - it is wholly undrinkable. It tastes like someone brushed his teeth, drank an entire bucket of orange juice and then extradited the now rechid contents of his endeavors back into the bucket, only then calling it "Grapefruit Juice."
Whoever decided to create such a disgusting, liquid abhoration deserves to be punched in the dick ... repeatedly. If said person is without dick, then one should be provided him or her for the sole purpose of the aforementioned punching. If this person transcends "being," and by that I mean is some sort of "god," then I will build a machine which enables me to exceed human limitation and become a $tevine deity myself (which would be counter-productive, really, since I once called myself the "god slayer," but never mind that for now). The purpose of this "en-godening," if you will, will only be to put me on the level with the god who created Grapefruit Juice so that I can punch him or her in the dick, or at very least some reasonable devine facsimile thereof. I hate Grapefruit Juice.
But I don't hate parties, which is exactly why we're having one!!
NEW YEAR'S $TEVE PARTY
A Minitstry of Awesome Joint
WHERE: Inside FRANK.
WHEN: I'll give you two guesses, smart guy. Give up? Oh for god's sake, Saturday ... it's on Saturday.
WHAT TIME, dick: No need to be rude. Say, around 7 or 8? It'll go on until whenever everyone's hammered and it's more fun to drive home. Just kidding, we have room for some crashers ... and by that I mean car crashers. When you're drunk, get the fuck out of my house.
WHY: To celebrate the birthday of Grandmaster Flash ... oh and that New Year thing.
WHAT SHOULD I BRING: I'll be getting a few cases, some liquor, and champagne (does he mean High Life? Who's to know??), but it'd be best if everyone brought some beer to ensure proper insobriety.
3-2-1 CONTACT: If you're reaing this, you probably know how to contact me ... that or you've somehow stumbled upon this blog during an internet search for amputee porn. You're only invited, by the way, if you fall into the latter column. That's hot. Anyway, leave a comment if you don't otherwise know how to contact me.
Well, that should do the trick. If you have any questions or comments, don't hesitate in using the above contact information which I avoided giving. I hope to see you dead ... I mean ... there!
Love,
$-0
posted by $teve-0 at 7:32 AM
5 Comments:
I gotta tell you, I'm a fan of the grapefruit juice. Further more, I don't think grapefruit juice deserved such a malicious, blind-sided, Nancy-Kerrigan-style attack. Grapefruit juice, while not a delectable as it's cousin the orange, still boasts many health benefits to include an impressive vitamin c content. Unlike orange juice, grapefruit juice also contains lycopene, lung and colon cancer fighting enzymes, and may help lower cholesterol. So unless you want scurvy, colon cancer and high cholesterol, drink your grapefruit juice, you fuckin savage.
But why would I need to down a jug-full of evil just to obtain said nutritional benefits? There are plenty of things that fight cancer and high-cholesterol, like sushi, regular orange juice (as you pointed out) and, of course, Superman. I'll stick to these delicious substitutes rather than the lava-like, disgusting drink of the damned known as Grapefruit Juice. (Punches Nick in the Dick).
whoa, whoa! what's with all this using of the real name? I thought we discussed the need for a certain amount of anonymity. did we not? oh, and sushi? don't get me started on eating uncooked fish... Nicotrol needs a smoke break.
Ah damn, forgot about the secret identity. I just thought that the appropriateness of the rhyme superceded the need for anonimity. My bad. By the way, Nocortol's last name is Leche ... wekk, maybe not, but I have seen him pounding out a one Jessica Simpson. Cardboard cut-out or not, it was Jessica by-god Simpson!
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