boobs

Where-Fi?

I’m sitting here writing this column on Friday night. I will schedule it for publication as soon as I finish it, for Tuesday morning, the 4th of May. Why, you may ask, am I sitting here writing a column on Friday night when I could be out slipping warm ones into garters and Cold Ones down my gullet? Well, like I told you on Friday’s column, I’m in the hospital with my recovering wife. No, that wasn’t a joke. She really did get surgery. No, it wasn’t really a whoopie cushion. But wouldn’t that be bad ass?

She’s doing well, I guess, or as well as well can be after getting gutted like a fish. She just went for her first walk and made it like twenty feet before having to turn around. She’s hurting pretty bad. And I know you guys probably think I’m an asshole for not tying her gown up in the back for her, and – in fact – telling her it was tied in the back. But I just figured I could give a little back to humanity. And that’s a good way to do it. The Hispanic family in the hallway sure appreciated it.

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  • Reading time:5 mins read

Multi-Use Material

So I was lying there last night, thinking about some awesome things we have, and I came up with what I think might be the most brilliant idea any man has ever had. This column, though, unfortunately needs to be divided into two sections. One is partly a rant, and the other is the brilliant idea. Which one would you like to read first?

Okay, so here’s the genius: you know that memory foam shit that they always tout was developed for NASA? Yeah, they make mattresses out of it. Well I have come up with an alternative use for it, that I think you’ll agree is probably the smartest thing you’ve ever heard in your entire life in the world. You ready for this shit? Okay. Here’s my idea.

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  • Reading time:3 mins read

I’m changing my career path.

Yes, my fearless readers, I have decided to go into insurance. And let me tell you why. We all know it’s legal crime, and who doesn’t want a little crime under their fingernails? Aha, two puns in one paragraph. So let me tell you why it would be so wonderful to work in insurance. Well, actually, let me back up and rephrase that because I think it probably wouldn’t be all that cool to work in insurance. The money, and therefore, the fun, would be in owning an insurance company. That’s where it’s at.

First of all, you charge people money every month. Let’s talk auto insurance, just for the sake of conversation. Okay, so let’s say you pay me around $150 a month for your Jeep Grand Cherokee to be insured. Ooh, let’s even say that it’s bright orange with a brown racing stripe down the middle! And it’s got twenty-inch wheels that are painted brown. And one of those chain license plate frames. Okay. So I insure that for you. You pay me $1800 a year. So if I have say twenty clients, I’m making a pretty good bit of coin. Now we get to where it would kick ass to own the insurance company.

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  • Reading time:5 mins read

Interview With a Feminist

For a long time, I’ve been friends with Stella, who is a true, bona fide, self-proclaimed feminist. But we’ve never really talked about it. Most of what we talk about is about more important things, namely, things centered more around manly things. So what exactly is a feminist, and what do they believe in? Do they really honestly expect people to believe that women should be treated as man’s equal? Ha! Oh. Yeah, apparently they do. So we here at SpaceBrew, in the ever-endeavor to get to the bottom of humanity and its insane ways, have decided to do a little research into one of the biggest problems plaguing our civilization: the women’s liberation movement. (Sorry, Stella, my shift key broke there, or I’d have capitalized all that.)

So I sent some interview-like questions to Sean and she replied, myspace interview style, in an effort to better educate us. Ever the good sport, she didn’t get terribly upset at the insults I hurled at her. She just accepted that she is a woman, and therefore, my inferior, and sort of just took it in good spirit. Before posting this column, I actually allowed her to read all my parts as well as her answers, all in context. At the bottom of the column, I gave her a ‘final word’ area, where she can comment on anything that didn’t appear in the questions I sent her.

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Happy October

You all know that October is National Domestic Violence Month, right? Yeah. I don’t personally condone it, but it is a nationally recognized moniker for the month. So who am I to go against the rules? I do live in this society, I should abide by its standards. Sigh. So who are you going to abuse? Now remember, it has to be ‘domestic’, which means someone you live with. Yeah. I was thinking my sister-in-law, but I don’t live with her, so that’s out.

I know, I know, you’re telling me that domestic violence isn’t funny and I shouldn’t joke about such a sensitive subject. I say Bullshit! We have an entire month here (and it’s one of the long ones!) that we’re supposed to recognize and respect domestic violence! :shobon:

So let’s talk about some other things that are going to happen this month. Number one, and this one is most important to me, Stella is back! Seriously, I’m psyched about this, because I’ve seen a bunch of her writing already, and it’s all good. If you’ve read her other columns on file here, you’ve at least grown to like her. But these new ones will make you love her. God, she’s gotten cynical!

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Let’s recap the weekend.

It was quite a busy one. You probably know by now that I didn’t get a tattoo on Friday, so that won’t be included here. So let’s start with Saturday. I ran out to Shift’s place to catch some college football and a few Cold Ones. The Ones are always Cold at Shift’s place.

Then we walked over to the Blue Note to catch the Tech game, where we sat across the bar from a bunch of losers rooting for Mizzou. Wrong state, assholes. Since I was at the bar already, and Shine lives in the area, I figured I’d call her and get her to join us there for a little football action. So she showed up in her costume (she was on her way to a costume party), which was an autograph book. She was the autograph book. Clever, eh? So I grabbed a marker from the bunch and found the only blank spot left on her shirt by that time, as you can see in this first picture.

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Another Run-In With Aria

As most of you probably remember, I had somewhat of a “run-in” with a fairly well known lady a couple of years ago at a movie expo. It was a pretty rad experience for me, since I’ve considered myself somewhat of a fan of hers. Ever since that video where she used the baby oil she’s been pretty close to the top of my list.

Anyway, I think it’s worth mentioning that I ran into her again, though this time it wasn’t such a collision as just a “seeing her in public” episode. But wait – let me back up a little. I first ‘ran into her’ in March or April of 2005. Then I saw her again at an adult expo of some sort where a buddy and I went just to see her. We heard she’d be in town, blah blah blah, went and said hi and got a snap with her. Didn’t really have time to talk. But this was about three weeks after the first time I met her.

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LeeLee Got Awesome!

I used to sort of consider myself an expert on breasts and breast theory. Breastism, as I like to call it. I could tell you if they were fake or real at just a cursory glance. Even half-covered. I based this expertise on the fact that I’ve seen (and felt) so many of them in my day. I’m talking like five or six of them, okay? Yeah. But, as any technology, I guess, so has this one advanced with age.

My God, it's full of stars...Breast implantism. I guess with enough years, and having found the right ingredients, we can expect them to look more and more real as the doctors get better and better at making the fake titties. If you’ve read half of what I’ve written, you know I stand against this. I would take small, funny-shaped saggers over perfectly formed fake ones anyday. And that’s because of how they feel. You can make them look as much like what you think is “the perfect breast” as possible, and if they don’t feel right – meh. I’m out.

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  • Reading time:2 mins read

A Movie Not to Rent

I rented (and suffered through) Down in the Valley with Edward Norton the other night. If you’re like me, you’re of the opinion that he can do no wrong on the screen. Uh, yeah – no, well, I mean yeah that’s sort of true. He’s a phenomenal actor, but the picture was bad. And I mean bad like Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil Bad. So if you’re into taking a little advice from a self-proclaimed movie buff, and big fan of Edward Norton, take my advice here. Don’t waste your time. Furthermore, what?

I did hear that the Rome series is real good though. I today put the entire first season in my blockbuster queue, so I’ll be watching the hell out of that. The guy who turned me onto it said this: You’ll get so hooked into watching it that you won’t want to see anything else. Okay, wow. that’s a bold statement, yeah? Well I’m all over it. I’ll let you know what I ended up thinking of it.

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The Burbank Chronicles, Vol. 1

I flew out to Burbank last night for an early morning appointment today. I’ve never been to Burbank, so the experience has been unique. I have been to California many times, but never this far south I guess. Anyway, a couple of things that have happened have been journalworthy, so I’ll write about them here.

I got to the counter at the Burbank Hilton and they gave me my room key – a 200-dollars-a-night king on the seventh floor. Yeah, that’s right. Two hundred dollars. Yawn. I’m not terribly impressed. The bed was nice, but the room was warm and smelled like fresh possum ass. It didn’t look all posh like I’d expected. I mean come on. It’s a Hilton. Anyway, when I got out of the elevator to go to my room, I didn’t pass Paris Hilton in the hallway.

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  • Reading time:3 mins read