So I have to go to your website, enter all my information to download a couple that will entitle me to a free sammich of my choice.   Hell, I’d pay for your sandwich so long as it kept me out of Subway, so sign me up.  It comes with the customary “valid and participating stores only” but, really, how many times have you gotten turned down because of that?  Well, fucking Quiznos is here to change that.  Apparently none of these franchises are accepting the coupons.  Some are, but they’re making you buy drinks and chips with it, or they’re just giving you a dollar off.

The scuttlebutt is saying the corporate offices aren’t reimbursing the franchises for the free sandwiches which is lame.  Why the hell would you initiate such a half assed campaign that is destined to piss off all the customers you’re trying to woo an the ones you already have?

Times are tough, you tease me with free sandwiches and waste my time when you won’t accept your own goddamned coupon and people aren’t going to stand for it.  Marches, and protests and riots!

Fuck you, Quiznos, you don’t fuck around with free.  You are dismissed while I sing along to this:

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Dear Beef Jerky-
You’re gross, I fucking hate you!
No wait. I’m sorry. That is a pathetic lie. Not so much the HATE thing, more the GROSS thing. You are a lot of things, you are certainly not gross. Was enjoying handfuls (two and a half) of you minutes ago while trying to think of original mean things to say about vegan pussies. That is-until I finished a fucking $6 goddamned bag of teriyaki-flavored jerky. In about 8 minutes.

My mouth was never full; every (2 and a half) “handful” was of sensible size, more than doable, more than chooable…oops…CHEWable. I am not an ape, beef jerky!!?! I am no pig of a man, okay?? I am a sensible-enough snacker, beef jerky! But what in the FUCK is with you stuffing yourself in such large bags, filled almost completely with (mouth-watering) AIR? You’d think I’d learn by now, impulse-buying at the grocery mart and such. No YOU wouldn’t would you. WOULD YO!! You PLAN that sort of thing happening don’t you. Don’t you! Damn you to HELL!!?! Your small flavor-soaked rubbery chunks and the dry larger chunks, too!

Before this evening’s wallet-vacuuming & pallet-teasing experience, my most recent disappointment with you went down upon returning home from the 99 Cent Store with three “bags” of Plain Beef Jerky. Was REALLY excited to find such an expensive treat at a fucking 99 Cent store and tore into that shit as soon as I got home, believe you me! Those three bags made for about three bites. 99 cents a BITE, beef jerky? Are all dehydrated foods this fucking expensive? Dehydrated apricots and those tasty-ish little dried banana circles…don’t think those would cost me a buck per bite. In theory. If I ever bought or further CONSUMED fruit, non-candied or otherwise. Right? Don’t answer that, beef jerky you bastard son of a bitch. You’re just going to tell me that those snacks are cheaper than you because they don’t taste as good. Get out of my HEAD, beef jerky!!?! You are The Devil himself!

Where was I…right. Pricey as fuck.
Why are you so delicious? What a SCHEMING industry! Even that Slim Jim crap is like $0.99 for a tiny little stick, I think. And that’s just the ground up hooves, for fuck’s sake. DAMN! I hate you. I cannot quit you! Why do you pepper yourself over your salted essence just right? You make me thirsty, but I just want more and more. You are going to drive me into the poorhouse $6 at a time, I am convinced of it.
I’ll bet the serving ounces size on the side of your bags include the little dehydration packet thingy, too. I just fucking know you include that little piece of shit “do not eat! warnings of death! do not consume! no!” pouch  in the weight of your bags.

“Heheheh!” you scoff at us. “Less of me in your bag! You buy! You buy now!”

What a crumby trick!  And that’s about all you give of yourself, too. Crumbs. Expensive-ass, delicious-as-hell CRUMBS!
I’d lay down and cry right now, if my fingers weren’t swollen from all of that salt and had extra fluids to spare.
I can’t quit you, but for the good of others in this financial dungpile we’re all sitting in…BEEF JERKY! You are DISMISSED!

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Well take it from me, Fartbonging is wrong. While there are several things that could go right with it, there is also the potential for this to happen, and the next thing you know you are punching the wall next to the toilet as you think GOD DAMN YOU FARTBONGING! HOW COULD I NOT HAVE SEEN IT COMING!

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Peta listen up, sex isn’t saving animals. Objectifying women only worked for Princes’ career, it doesn’t save cows.

Your endless ads with half naked women isn’t getting anyone to ditch their meat eating diets. Your childish over sexed actions only turn people off to the ultimate message.

Banned 2009 Super Bowl Commercial, Which I’m sure never intended to actually make it to air.

The work you could be doing to properly educate youth about factory farming and other animal exploits are lost on the dead eyes and ears of unresponsive audiences.  It upsets me that you upset everyone across the board, and the ones who suffer the most are the animals you think you are protecting.

Sometimes you have to fight the evils of the world with brains, not boobs. Peta, You have been dismissed.

Peta, take a long look in the mirror, put your clothes on and think about education and not nipples.

You are dismissed.

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1. UFFIE: You have been dismissed, now clean up that spot on the couch. I watched this video and felt nothing. All I could...

Now the site has grown into a full on social networking device ala undies only club V 3.0. You can read all about the exploits of these fantastically insightful “models” or the general public in the skinhead forums. You can try and spank it to pictures of girls who look completely bored at the rigors of showing up for their own cute themed photo sets (Oh look at you! You’re holding a guitar! Totally rock and roll!), but you might find your eyes rolling over in their sockets from the over-display of irony and youthful stupidity before they have the chance to be rolling over from sweet sweet pleasure.

If your idea of perfect beauty is Betty Page, you might be in love with this site. If that’s the case though I suggest you sequester yourself on an island somewhere. You can still have the internet, that’s what it’s for, to keep the retards removed.

I digress, Suicide Girls, you’re boring, stupid and vapid. At best you’re cute, boring, stupid and vapid, and you can’t hold a candle to a fifi that never opens its mouth. The worst thing to ever happen to porn was the idea that we should hear what the models are thinking.

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Tivo has enabled obese people with no legs to order Dominos pizza from their Tivo remote straight on their couch as they enjoy their recorded marathon of THE BIGGEST LOSER.  This is a fun new bell for Tivo to ring, sure you can already do this from your computer, but even from your computer you might have to walk over to it, or stop watching tv for a hot second to actually order.

With each step we take closer and closer to the prophecies of Idiocracy and Wall -E we should be ashamed. People should only be allowed to order pizza from their treadmill after an hour run. There is no need to be glued to the TV anymore, Tivo instinctively means that you can pause your TV show,  go out in the open world and eat with people/family. With super convenience come super responsibility.

Put down the Tivo remote, don’t even think about eating pizza and take a good look in the mirror – You’re overweight.

Super convenient Tivo stop making easier for people to eat 20 pizzas, shit their pants and yell at their kids to grab them a fresh pair.

Fat America with Technology: You are dismsised.

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You would think this would be a common rule, but people don’t seem to understand you can’ t eat tuna sandwiches or salads in a small space with other people!!!!! Tuna is to be enjoyed by single people alone in their sad apartment. 

People eating this fishy relish garbage in my personal space has been happening to me a lot lately; I can’t stand the look, the taste or the smell of this horrible food product. I respect your taste pallet, but please enjoy it alone.

While in a meeting when I am supposed to be paying attention to business some asshole rips in with a tuna bowl and suddenly  I’m whisked off to 8th grade eating bad pussy down in the storm drain behind church.  Tuna is just not right. Even worse is tuna breath, in close proximity. I don’t care that you’re on a protein diet, I don’t want to yak while you speak to me.

Tuna consumption you have been dismissed. Its not you’re fault you smell like 90 year old rotten crotch, but please, take it outdoors.

UPDATE: Minutes after posting this, a woman came in  my office with a bowl of tuna and sat close to me. I pretended to have to  pee, and left the room. She left the bowl in my trash can.  I only wish I had a fart on deck, which is odd I didn’t I’m always ready to rip.

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Something happened in 2008 that injected the idea into the public consciousness that bacon is the solution to all of your problems. I am quite sure this notion started with Paula Dean’s fat, ignorant mouth. All of a sudden, everyone on the internet was a bacon connoisseur, fat dudes left behind trying to make the ultimate game party dip and instead opted for frankenbacon monstrosities. But the real problem with bacon? The fucking hipsters man.

Overnight (or at least over 365 of them) it became so fucking cool to think that every food item needed to be attached to bacon and lots of it. Bacon is truly to be celebrated, but its strength lies in restricted use. I don’t give a shit about how your friend makes the best bacon tea, or a bacon salad with strips of bacon for the greens and garnished with tiny bacon bits made of lettuce. You can’t make a turducken out of straight bacon. You sound like an asshole eating a sandwich over a starving kids head when you, along with everyone you know won’t shut up about bacon. So shut the fuck up about bacon already.

“This message brought to you by the Responsible Use of Bacon Partnership of America”

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Look, I know you touch your junk all day, I touch my junk all day. I’ve met your girlfriend, I know for sure she touches her junk,  and I don’t want to eat her vegan meat loaf.

I understand the economical reasons for a potluck dinner. In these rough times they make sense to collectively come together to provide a decent meal. But, I also know that the lady at work who comes in every day covered in cat hair isn’t going to excite me with her flan.

People are gross. The people you are friends with and work with are repulsive when left alone, and you don’t want them touching your food. Its hard to know what horrors live in other people’s  kitchens.  I take out the guess work and just judge by the standard of my kitchen. If I were you, I wouldn’t eat anything that came out of my kitchen. I have X-files action figures in my fridge and a barrel of monkey’s barrel in my spice rack. I’m pretty sure all my cookware came from botched potlucks of the past.

Foods of the world? When Mexico, Italy and China all get your belly at once it creates World War ass to the floor and it never ends up pretty. Always make sure your toilet is working properly when hosting a potlucked event. I once spent 40 minutes praying to God for a toilet to flush.  To be frank, there is no god and there was no flush.

Undoubtedly, there are always the over achievers that fuck everything up by making something too complicated and it turns out gross. Don’t make people pretend to love your cooking. I know you can’t program your phone messages at work, so I can’t help but laugh when you tell me you made Crème brûlée?

NOTE: Never tell me your grandma used to make it. All I think about is how dead your grandma is and what sex must have been like during the civil war.

At potlucks you can always count on the guy who just bails out and brings KFC. You know what? The KFC guy always gets the praise so stop pretending to be a cook in the kitchen, we all know no one cooks anymore, and if you do, its a home experiment that shouldn’t be tested on friends.

Potluck dinners, You have been dismissed, you make me  uncomfortable and you’re gross.

Tip: Wine, cheese, bread, whisky, hangers and condoms. Bring it.

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I just took my last final, and my Muslim hating twat of an instructor lost the entire last batch of homework I turned in. It’s only 11:24 AM, but that is not going to deter me from shedding the haze of sobriety that has stiffled my (almost) every waking moment for the past few months. For the next three weeks, I plan to make the gutter my home, snuggle up with the white haired and bearded homeless man who sleeps in the alley behind my hovel of an apartment, and make sexual advances at the crazy cat woman who, while she does not live in the alley, she spends an awful lot of time back there hanging out with the cats. I will make nothing but bad decisions this holiday break, and I will relish each and every one. So long sobriety! Pooooooooooooooooooffffffffffff.

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