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"A man's got to know his limitations" -Clint Eastwood

no love for last season's "well to do" NEAG?

there were some gems in there, to be sure, but unfortunately, neag "killed the golden goose" by beating it into the ground.

not totally his fault, mind you, he was egged on, but nonetheless...

"metroneag" and the later version "hivneag" have also suffered similar fates.

"Get a fucking haircut. Looks like your mother fucked a monkey."

Al Swearengen

Matter of fact, my friend Jasper told me one of them coons came by his house to pick his sister up for a date. He said, "Look here nigger, that there's MY girl! Anyone's has sex with my sister, it's gonna be me!"

-Clayton Bigsby


Clayton cracks me up every time-DEFINITELY NOT WORK SAFE

" This site is the biggest collection of assholes in one spot. I love it."

KB

"If I am not for myself, who will be? And when I am for myself, what am 'I'? And if not now, when?"

Hillel the Elder at Avot.

"For who? For what?"

Ricky Watters

"Even if one takes every reefer madness allegation of the prohibitionists at face value, marijuana prohibition has done far more harm to far more people than marijuana ever could."

"The Beatles are not merely awful. They are so unbelievably horrible, so appallingly unmusical, so dogmatically insensitive to the magic of the art, that they qualify as crowned heads of antimusic."

-- William F. Buckley, RIP.

never was a huge beatles fan, but, wow.

Yeah, I'm looking for the year he wrote that.

"A week after putting her to sleep, I received Neil's ashes in a forest green can. She'd never expressed any great interest in the outdoors, so I scattered her remains on the carpet and then vacuumed her back up. The cat's death struck me as the end of an era. It was, of course, the end of her era, but with the death of a pet there's always that urge to string black crepe over an entire ten- or twenty-year period. The end of my safe college life, the last of my thirty-inch waist, my faltering relationship with my first real boyfriend: I cried for it all and wondered why so few songs were written about cats. My mother sent a consoling letter along with a check to cover the cost of the cremation. In the left-hand carner, on the line marked MEMO, she'd written, 'Pet Burning.'"

-- David Sedaris, Me Talk Pretty One Day

As a person who is sometimes responsible for the names of new products, I always liked this one. Carroll Shelby was in an argument with Ford as to what to call his latest automotive creation. He talked it over with an assistant in his Dallas office, next door to his modification shop;

CS- "Well hell...how many steps is it from here to there" (motions towards the shop)

-assistant paces the distance and comes back in-

(assistant) "three hundred and fifty"

(CS) "Well then it's a Shelby GT-350 and I don't want to hear any more shit about it"

The time of heroes is dead: the christ god has killed it, leaving nothing but weeping martyrs and fear and shame.

- beowulf

Well, fuck you, too. Fuck me, fuck you, fuck this whole city and everyone in it. Fuck the panhandlers, grubbing for money, and smiling at me behind my back. Fuck the squeegee men dirtying up the clean windshield of my car. Get a fucking job! Fuck the Sikhs and the Pakistanis bombing down the avenues in decrepit cabs, curry steaming out their pores, stinking up my day. Terrorists in fucking training. SLOW THE FUCK DOWN! Fuck the Chelsea boys with their waxed chests and pumped up biceps. Going down on each other in my parks and on my piers, jingling their dicks on my Channel 35. Fuck the Korean grocers with their pyramids of overpriced fruit and their tulips and roses wrapped in plastic. Ten years in the country, still no speaky English? Fuck the Russians in Brighton Beach. Mobster thugs sitting in cafés, sipping tea in little glasses, sugar cubes between their teeth. Wheelin' and dealin' and schemin'. Go back where you fucking came from! Fuck the black-hatted Chassidim, strolling up and down 47th street in their dirty gabardine with their dandruff. Selling South African apartheid diamonds! Fuck the Wall Street brokers. Self-styled masters of the universe. Michael Douglas, Gordon Gekko wannabe mother fuckers, figuring out new ways to rob hard working people blind. Send those Enron assholes to jail for FUCKING LIFE! You think Bush and Cheney didn't know about that shit? Give me a fucking break! Tyco! Worldcom! Fuck the Puerto Ricans. 20 to a car, swelling up the welfare rolls, worst fuckin' parade in the city. And don't even get me started on the Dom-in-i-cans, 'cause they make the Puerto Ricans look good. Fuck the Bensonhurst Italians with their pomaded hair, their nylon warm-up suits, their St. Anthony medallions, swinging their, Jason Giambi, Louisville slugger, baseball bats, trying to audition for the Sopranos. Fuck the Upper East Side wives with their Hermes scarves and their fifty-dollar Balducci artichokes. Overfed faces getting pulled and lifted and stretched, all taut and shiny. You're not fooling anybody, sweetheart! Fuck the uptown brothers. They never pass the ball, they don't want to play defense, they take five steps on every lay-up to the hoop. And then they want to turn around and blame everything on the white man. Slavery ended one hundred and thirty seven years ago. Move the fuck on! Fuck the corrupt cops with their anus violating plungers and their 41 shots, standing behind a blue wall of silence. You betray our trust! Fuck the priests who put their hands down some innocent child's pants. Fuck the church that protects them, delivering us into evil. And while you're at it, fuck JC! He got off easy! A day on the cross, a weekend in hell, and all the hallelujahs of the legioned angels for eternity! Try seven years in fuckin' Otisville, J! Fuck Osama Bin Laden, Al Qaeda, and backward-ass, cave-dwelling, fundamentalist assholes everywhere. On the names of innocent thousands murdered, I pray you spend the rest of eternity with your seventy-two whores roasting in a jet-fuel fire in hell. You towel headed camel jockeys can kiss my royal Irish ass! Fuck Jacob Elinsky, whining malcontent. Fuck Francis Xavier Slaughtery my best friend, judging me while he stares at my girlfriend's ass. Fuck Naturelle Riviera, I gave her my trust and she stabbed me in the back, sold me up the river, fucking bitch. Fuck my father with his endless grief, standing behind that bar sipping on club sodas, selling whisky to firemen, cheering the Bronx bombers. Fuck this whole city and everyone in it. From the row-houses of Astoria to the penthouses on Park Avenue, from the projects in the Bronx to the lofts in Soho. From the tenements in Alphabet City to the brownstones in Park slope to the split-levels in Staten Island. Let an earthquake crumble it, let the fires rage, let it burn to fucking ash and then let the waters rise and submerge this whole rat-infested place.

No. No, fuck you, Montgomery Brogan. You had it all, and you threw it away, you dumb fuck! -- 25th Hour

who's got time to read all that

You.

Figured you'd still be at the bar- it IS Sunday night

NTFF Fred

Blow me
You hardly even know me
just set yourself below me
and blow me... tonite.

a handy
would certainly be dandy
but it's not enough to slow me
you gotta blow me... allright.

when you part your lips that way
ooo... I want you night and day
when you squeeze my balls so tight
I wanna blow my load with all my might!!

so blow me
you hardly even know me
just set yourself below
you gotta blow me tonite


Red Peters

"It don't matter how much you jig and dance,
The last two drops go in your pants."

"The most important thing is for us to find Osama bin Laden. It is our number one priority and we will not rest until we find him."
- G.W. Bush, 9/13/01

"I don't know where bin Laden is. I have no idea and really don't care. It's not that important. It's not our priority."
- G.W. Bush, 3/13/02

your tax dollars at work

I don't think I ever know if I ever really want it
Could be why I'm never sure if I ever really got it
And I guess it's maybe easier not to think too much about it...

A house a car a family and friends
Yeah, it all means to justify the ends

But sometimes...I wonder...in the back of my mind
Sometimes...I wonder...if I'm wasting all my time
Sometimes...I wonder...if I'm putting off my real life...

What I could've done, where I could've been
When I should've gone, when I should've seen
Who I would've loved, how I would've dreamed
And if it's always always too late...

I don't think I ever know that I ever really need it
Could be why I'm never sure that I ever really feel it
And I think it's maybe easier to guess I really mean it...

A house! A car! A family and friends!
Yeah, all it means to justify the ends

But sometimes...I wonder...

A girl! A smile! A holiday and sex!
Yeah, all it takes to make sense of the rest

But sometimes...I wonder...in the back of my mind
Sometimes...I wonder...if I'm killing all my time
Sometimes...I wonder...if I'm giving up my real life...

What I could've done, where I could've been
When I should've gone, why I should've seen
Who I would've loved, how I would've dreamed
And if it's always always too late...

And every day that I let slide
Is one more day I never try
To break the world
To make my fate
And with every day that I let go
It's one day less I never know
If it's always
Always too late...

Is that off of Anthony Michael Hall's new album?

Um, no.

I'll use your big quote of late - "did you read it!?"


Why the Anthony M. Hall thing?

My first impression was "teenage angst meets growing old"

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