Masturbation Sex Toy Mistaken For Rare Mushroom in China

A mushroom like object was found by local villagers in  Xi'an, Shaanxi, China who did not know what it was.  They gathered around and collectively assumed it was a mushroom.  As you can see they kept it in a bucket because that seems like the most reasonable thing to do with a giant mutaded mushroom thing, right? 

"Come on everyone get together, now we're gonna call the media and become rich and famous because of what we found"

This reminds me of that scene in Joe Dirt where he's eating off of the frozen poop rock.  There are lips on 1 side and a hole on the other to simulate a vagina and an anus.  Nobody in the village had ever seen anything like this.  So it stands to reason no one in the village has ever seen an anus or a vagina, lots of missionary with the blankets on to hide their shame where they come from.

I saw this and I had to share it.  This makes me want to go get one and carry it around in a bucket.

Single People Hate Your Kids- My First Animation

This is my first animation called Single People Hate Your Kids.   I used Anime Studio Debut 6 and it took me about 1 month to make this.  It took that long because I only worked on it in my spare time between writting a blog, drawing practice, making t-shirts, working on a podcast, and working on new designs for shirts.  It was a lot of fun to make but it takes way longer than you think it would take.  I'm hoping the next one will have audio.  There will be a post in the future to help anyone that would like to play around with Anime Studio Debut 6 (because its the only one I have).

Just so you know I dont hate kids but I cant stand those brat kids at the store that need to get jumpkicked. I dont think you should ever beat a kid but sometimes you cant help but fantasize about it while that dirty kid stares at you while he's throwing a fit on the dirty floor.   

Stinkin Monkies 4

Its been a while but #4 is here. Enjoy!

What Kind of Pimple Are You?

Pimples can be the most harmless form of frustration. There are different levels of annoying for pimples just like people. Sure there are plenty of people that love you (I hope so) but for every person that likes you there is another that finds you annoying (I’m still looking for the people that like me). So what kind of annoying pimple are you? Are you the kind that doesn’t go away no matter how much you mess with it or the kind that takes a gentle nudge to explode. You tell me.

Lets take a look at the different kinds of pimples.

The Standard Pimple- the pimple everybody knows but seems to show up everywhere you don’t want it to the most.

The Face Pimple- The one that can destroy something beautiful just by hanging around.

The Butt Pimple- The pimple that just embarrasses the hell out of you and you never want to share it with your other friends

The Not Ready to Pop Pimple- the most persistent and never ready to go away until it wants to

The Itchy Pimple- The Pimple that disguises itself as a harmless itch only to reveal itself as something totally different

The Painful Pimple- This pimple is a pain to have no matter where it is

Acne- This pimple never goes anywhere without its friends

The Pop Mark- The one that your stuck with forever

So which pimple are you?

Bad Days- When It Rains It Poors

What is it about a bad day that just makes you want to leave your crayons in the sun. Some people define a bad day by one thing that happens in their day that happens to be bad. I like to call those people the lucky people, most of us define a bad day more like the car salesman of bad days. The bad day just becomes so persistent at pushing you and poking you that it just drains everything out of you, like a car salesman.

Just in case you don’t know, I make shirts. That’s not a shameless plug, well it kind of is, but I don’t say that for nothing. My day started the way they have been lately, with a todo list. The first thing on this list was make some shirts, some orders had come in via eBay. That’s not a bad day, right, that’s a pretty good day when I make a little bit of money. So, there I go I make the shirts and get them ready to take to the post office, pretty good day so far. Time to go to the post office, I head down my street when I hear a noise sounds a bit like a crumple noise. I look around for a can, plastic bag, or a dead body or something but there is nothing around so I just shrug it off. I whistle my way all the way to the post office send my packages with no real big problems. Time to go home, right? Wrong.

I get to my car and I’m about to get in when a random car pulls up behind me, all that goes through my mind is “this is never good.”

The guy rolls down his window and yells “Hey, you have a flat!” My heart sinks to my feet and I can feel my ears get hot (that always happens when I get angry) while I wave thank you to the stranger as he drives off and offers no other help (I‘m not bitter at him just the situation).

“oh well, I gotta do what I gotta do.” I think to myself while walking to the trunk of the car. I open it to reveal about 4 years of procrastination. Every time I didn’t want to deal with something I would just put it in the trunk, that plus a sound system that I don’t even turn up anymore. I lift it all up and rest it on the back of my head and upper back so I can get to the hidden compartment where the spare tire is.

I pull the spare tire and jack out and then I look at the little caps on the lug nuts. Half of the little caps on them are broken leaving only enough plastic that I cant get a tool onto the lug nut. Now I have to improvise a way of taking these little caps off or I cant change the tire. I dig through the car that I never carry tools in and somehow dig out a flat head screwdriver that can be manipulated to get the caps off. Now I can finally get the car jacked up and the tire off. I used to work at a tire place so this isn’t so hard for me. So smooth sailing from here, right? Wrong.

I get the spare tire on and begin to let the car down and I’m watching the tire just in case it pops or… you know something bad happens. Then I notice that the tire on the spare begins to flatten out as I set the car down. I dig through the car for an air gauge, I find it and check the tire. I put it on the valve and nothing happens, I pull it back and try again and again nothing happens. At this point it has to be a broken tire gauge, I figure the tire has to have at least a little pressure, right? Wrong.

The spare has no air and I have no way of getting air to it myself. I call my family for help and it takes about another 45 minutes of waiting for them to get an air tank and fill it full of air. Finally then get back I air up my tire head home and try not to move for the rest of the day because I don’t want anything else to happen.

Maybe I’m just being sensitive but I think that’s enough things in a row to turn a perfectly good day into a bad day….. Right?

Machine Gun Preacher- a Quick Review

It doesn’t matter if you are Christian or not for this movie, all you need for this movie is a heart because your pulse is gonna race with the action and then break with the drama.

Just in case you don’t know (don’t worry I wont spoil it) this movie is exactly what it sounds like. A rough guy meets Jesus (not in the literal sense though, in the church sense) goes on some missionary type trip and it rocks his world. (See no spoilers).

This movie is a perfect balance of drama and action. I will tell you the coolest scene, Gerard Butler is standing in the middle of the road while a truck approaches….. I want to keep going but I’ll stop there, you gotta see what happens after that. Its pretty intense.

As far as the movie goes, we all know Gerard Butler has the acting chops to pull off anything from the Phantom of the Opera to 300. The reality of the movie will move you to tears and then make you feel like crap for having it so good.

You might ask yourself after watching the movie if what he is doing is right, but if it was your family what lengths would you go to?   

I give it 5 Smelly Fingers

Pitbull We Miss You - F**K Rap Your Listening To A Businessman

Ever since I heard Damn It Man I have been a huge fan of Pitbull buying everything I could get my hands on to support someone that was fast becoming an inspiration in my life. But recently all that has changed, Pitbull has gone from being an everyman hustler to some kind of cartoon character that produces crappy dance music that doesn’t really take much talent to make. Your original fans miss you Pit.

I sit here listening to his early stuff and its not the being gangster that makes it cool. Pitbull is one of the best latino rappers since Big Pun (RIP). I love everything that Pitbull stands for. Hustler, Family Man, all around workaholic. He was a rapper that didn’t go gangster, he didn’t try to appeal to the middle class by dressing like someone from the Cosby Show. Pitbull was simply himself, a man from Miami.

During an interview Pitbull mentioned that he didn’t wear jewelry because he figured why spend $100,000 on a chain that isn’t gonna do anything when he could buy real estate and that could make him another $100,000 and maybe then he might consider getting a chain. When a poor kid is bombarded with mainstream hip hop images of glitz and glamour and jewelry then a single voice reaches above them and says I’m about my business and my family. Its so inspirational.

I grew up around workaholics and the image hip hop portrays is a lazy way to get rich. Pitbull told the truth when he talks about staying on his grind and even in interviews talks about working your way to the top. But my favorite lyric is when he says “F**K rap your listening to a Businessman.”

I still love Pitbull and I hope he takes his fame as far as he can but his Mixtapes are his best music.

The Hate Mail Has Landed- Part 2 Is This Racist?

This is the next part of the blog just before this one. The Reason I wanted to write this one is to ask one question, Take a look at the picture in the window right there, Is that picture racist? I was asking myself that question when I first made the design and before I posted it.

I originally posted that picture on eBay with the best of intent only trying to be funny, maybe a little offensive but not racist offensive. Then something happened that calmed all my worries, it started to sell and became one of my best shirts. I concluded that it must be funny and not racist because there are a few people that wanted it and liked it enough to spend money on it…. Right?

The only reason I don’t mind being called a racist bastard is because its not true. What did this guy think that he was going to hurt my feelings. As a matter of fact I’m going to print out his email and frame it on my wall. Most people frame their first dollar, not me, I’m going to frame my first legit Hate Mail. Its going to push me to make even more offensive stuff and even be more offensive…. But not in a racist way.

I guess you cant control the way people interpret your jokes.

Leave a comment and let me know what you think.

The Hate Mail Has Landed

As you can tell by looking at this blog page, I sell shirts. Specifically I sell shirts on Ebay. Its a lot of fun to do too, and pajamas all day aren’t bad either. I like to do my thing as best I can, if you follow my twitter account you already know I like or try to be funny. But a joke doesn’t always come off the way it should, sometimes people just don’t get it.

It finally happened, I knew it would one day but I thought it would have happened a long time ago. The dreaded HATE MAIL. I wish it bothered me more than it does but I cant get mad because I can understand where he’s coming from. But at the same time I was outraged. As a little treat (because we’re such good friends) I’m going to show you what the email said. This is a direct quote.

“It's America and freedom of speech exists. So I'm gonna use mine to to call you a racist bastard for promoting the klan.”

When I first read this I was about to get really upset but then I thought about it for a second. The whole point of comedy is to create an emotional reaction in the listener or reader in this instance. This guy got so angry at my little design he flew off the handle and sent me an email. That doesn’t seem like much until you realize how much effort it takes to come up with the right words that are going to evoke an emotional response while at the same time show how angry you are and how little you have to do that day.

I mean come on, he could have tried a little harder. That hate mail could have been sent to me in a tweet, if your going to hate me its going to take a lot more than that to rattle me.

There is going to be a part 2 of this but for now I gotta say I’M NOT RACIST YOU STUPID (insert racial slur that applies)!!

Oh How I Hate Mexico - Border Fears

A long long time ago in a country not so far away…….. A man had a vision of his own future. He saw a future where his children didn’t beg for money or sell Chiclets. This man took upon himself to change the destiny of himself and his unborn children. Like Rambo he took on what seemed like an impossible task and came out the other side alive. This man is my father. He knew America was the place to be but what he did not foresee were the effects America would have on his children. Most Mexicans think of it as raising Mexican children in America instead of Mexican parents raising American children in America.

I don’t like to speak Spanish (mainly because of all the old Mexican ladies saying “Oh listen to how he sounds that’s so cute”, great way to give a kid a complex) and the idea of going to Mexico scares and enrages me (I figure my dad came to this country so why leave it). So my dad was born in Mexico but my family might as well have been in this country for generations with how American me and my siblings are.

I started with that so I could tell you what has happened that has solidified my fear of and determination to stay out of Mexico. Especially because of recent developments and stories in the media going to Mexico even for a little while looks like they might keep you there if you slightly appear like you could be from there. My dad needed to go with his buddy to Mexico to a border town and (bum bum buuuummmm) he needed someone to drop him off. It turned out to be me and my sister to take my dad and his buddy.

The road trip itself was not that bad but fast forward about 4 ½ hours and no one has any idea to find the park that we were supposed to drop them off at and El Paso is totally unfamiliar to all of us. There was light at the end of the tunnel we saw a sign that said Exit 22b so we followed it. Then there it was in giant letters “MEXICO” ….. my heart dropped into my feet and I could feel my heartbeat in my fingertips. I started gripping my seat like I was in a falling airplane and I was bracing for impact. I scrambled looking for a place to turn around or at least a glimmer of hope. Nothing…. We cross the fence into the jungle.

Its like the Spanish channel but no one has big boobs and everyone looks like they want to kill me. Even though I was in a car full of people I have never felt more alone. There are probably still grip marks in the seat and arm rest. Suddenly we found the park, the whole reason we couldn’t find it was because it was in Mexico. I hold onto my door and my hand on my knife. The nightmare looks like its almost over, we find a place to turn around and head back to the border. We drop off my dad as near as we can to the most official looking person with an automatic weapon.

Is that where the story ends… of course not. We end up back in the lines but this time the fence says America(yay!!). The sweat rolls down my forehead and drips over my eye, I begin to get even more nervous because I realize I’m going to look nervous. I have heard that you need a passport come back into America and we didn’t have one. Its our turn, my heart skips a beat and I hold my breath. The guy in the booth waves us up and asks us a ton of questions starting with where are we from. He takes our I.D.s and goes back into his booth, and stays there for a long time. I do my best to appear calm but my heart is beating so hard I can almost see my shirt move. A second person strolls up from behind the car asking us to look in the trunk. I bite my lips and get the taste of hot fries from earlier in day. The guy leans over and tells us they are going to search our car, he still doesn’t give us our I.D.s. At this point my sister starts complaining about how we are Americans being treated like criminals but all I can think is that prison wont be that bad once I get past all the rape. They tell us to get out of the car and look the other way, two more official looking people march up to us, one of them yelling at another things you would hear a coworker yell at a friend.

Finally they hand us our I.D.s and tell us were are free to go. At this point I cant hear anything I just want to get the hell away from the border. I will never go to Mexico again but most importantly I hate Mexico and Border Patrol!!! And now I really hate drug runners….. Really hate ‘em!!!