Pizza Comedy

These kids have no idea how lucky they are…

If I had a mom like that…well, I’d probably be weirded out. Because she’s my freakin mom, dood. But if my FRIEND had a mom like that…I’d be over his place, hundred miles an hour, switchin’ lanes like whoa. And you better believe I’d bring rock band, a Wild Cherry CD, and some extra tissues. Perhaps even a Yanni album for our cool-down cuddling session.

I don’t front. I’ve got a few lessons I could teach this MILD. For starters, I could teach her how to properly pound the skin drums with her palms. Afterwards, I’ll teach her the “Italian dum solo”…which may or may not involve a quarter gallon of olive oil. Or maybe, just maybe, I can finally get her to just relax and let me just bang on the drum all day. Seriously, I don’t want to work. MILD!

My birthday is coming up this week and I’d like to use this edition of Juicy Fruit Butt Tuesday to honor me…with a special tribute to birthday butts.

Now “what exactly is a birthday butt” you ask?

Very good question. A birthday butt is very much like a noun. It describes a person, butt, or thing that is somehow related to birthdays or would be awesome to receive on birthdays. So yeah, it’s pretty much any butt. But more awesome because it’s your birthday.

Take for example, these birthday butts.

What makes them “birthday” exactly? Well, look at them. They’re awesome…all lined up and freshly showered. And even more important, there are exactly 11 JFBs present in this picture. And I’m turning 26.

So…11 x 2 (one for each butt cheek) = 22

22 + 4 (the amount of hands and feet I have to touch said butt cheeks) = 26

Coincidence?? I think not. That is like the most ultimate, extreme birthday butt picture ever. They made it special for me. For those of you still on the market for buying me a present (hint hint), I’ve always wanted a line of butts for my birthday. So….

And then there’s this kind of birthday butt. They need much less explaining, but are equally as tasteful and sincere.

Nothing like spelling it out to drive the point home. Tip of my hat to those ladies, and yes, I’ll take those birthday butts as a gift as well. I’m not picky…they just need to be juicy fruit. And if they’re filled with cookie dough ice cream, that’s cool too.

Continue Reading…

I’m thinking of moving to Brazil.

You all know I’m a seriously good dancer, right? Well, this new Brazilian dance craze has got me all worked up. I want to practice…to train…under these women. This way, if I ever get challanged to a dance off, I will know how to step up and serve them back…

(yes, this starts good…but make sure to stick around for contestant #2)

Those are some seriously refined and classy dance moves. She’s like a modern-day Maria from West Side Story. Daring and bold, yet classy and prude.

You know, strippers don’t get enough credit. They’ve been doing these dance moves for years — always being shunned and quarantined to dark night clubs with absurd cover charges — and yet, here it is. THEIR moves. Out in the public square. With what looks like the elderly Mayor of the town getting in on it.

They have been the trailblazers for so long now, I guess it’s just easy to forget where these things come from. Which I can kinda understand. I guess if someone is gonna serenade me we a Surra de Bunda dance, I’m not gonna ask questions. I’m just gonna accept the face full of muff with a smile and remember to tip my bartenders well.

Brazil, here I come…

First off, huge props to the USA team for rallying an impressive comeback in the second half of today’s World Cup Game. Secondly, WHAT THE FUCK?!

We scored the winning goal and had it called off because of….__________? No one knows. The coaches, the players, the announcers. Apparently, you don’t actually need to tell anyone what the call is if your a ref. You just make the call, pout your lips, and then shake your head like a doodyface when anyone asks why you blew the whistle.

The referee’s name is Koman Couilibaly of Mali, Africa. And this is what I want to do to him.

Except, instead of a hot Asian girl with a nice body, replace it with an old, American-hating blind guy that gets his kicks from fucking people over. This isn’t Vietnam, dude. It’s the World Cup. Stop hating.

Watch the replay, there’s nothing wrong with the goal. In fact, there are two Slovenia guys with American players in bear hugs.

Booshit, booshit, booshit.

Anyway, awesome playing in the second half by Team USA. Mega-props to Donovan and Bradley (actually the son of America’s coach Bob Bradley) for scoring those clutch goals and keeping our hopes alive. And a mega-middle finger to that ref. I hope he looks up at a cloud in the sky and a bird poops in his eye.

>> You can watch all the goals of the game here. (btw, I think we found their goalie’s weakness. Shoot it at his head.)

Had a crazy past two days. Ran into two ex-girlfriends in two days. At a bar on tuesday, at a stoplight today. Two, back to back. I swear if I see Michael Cera tomorrow, I’m just gonna start running.

I don’t need that kind of drama. I just need a nice place to rest my head, maybe have a cheeky glass of champagne, and pimp out to my all-leopard-skin wardrobe.

You Should See Her Ass

Even with this week I’ve been having, this image above is still the most absurd thing I’ve seen. That is the calmest looking man I’ve ever seen with a tit in his face. It looks like he’s doing a math problem, not resting on a mountain of mammary.

OK, now take that, and double it.

Nice Melons. but you're boobs look weird

This woman has the skinniest head I’ve ever seen. I mean, look at that body. It looks like she was sucked into a Willy Wonka Marshmallow-Making Machine from the neck down.

But even so…I’m sleepy and I could use a place to rest. And melons are in season right now…

Can You Believe it?!!

The Lakers laid down the smack on the Celtics last night, setting the stage for an epic Game 7 showdown for the championship. Kobe and his crew of ponies vs. Big Baby and his crew of rugrats. It’s a match made in a shitty restaurant in heaven.

I’m routing for the Celtics, but to be honest, I don’t care for either team.

Choosing between the Lakers vs. Celtics is like picking my favorite Jelly Belly jelly-bean between Juicy Pear and Buttered Popcorn. They both suck ass and leave a foul taste in my mouth (btw - if I have to pick, I go Buttered Popcorn all the way. There is nothing more disgusting than a Juicy Pear jelly bean. It’s gross!!*)

But I will use this post as an excuse to use that ridiculous picture above. And to remind you once again that soccer has hotter fans than any sport I’ve ever seen. And they’re innovative. I mean, come on. She’s using her boobs as a cell phone carrier.

I Like Soccer!

That’s innovation. Braun and beauty. Seriously, if the dude that owns that stupid-ass Cheeseburger LOL Cats website can make a mega-rich web empire, this girl can use her boob invention to sell boob phones. I’d trade my iPhone in a second for one of those.

(*Bmac, suck on that. Juicy Pear is mega-bunz!)

Greetings from South Africa!! Africa meaning the lower back area and south of that meaning the grandiose country of butts. Get it? South Africa!!

It’s Juicy Fruit Butt Tuesday and you know what that means…butts. Double-trouble butts with a side of slap-yo-grandma. And since there’s World Cup mayhem going on right now, it’s best that we take a moment to tip our caps and salute those great butts of soccer.

This guy knows what I’m talking about.

Luckily this guy wears two pairs of underwear to every game. Mostly because he carries a bag of marshmallows on the inside of that drum and has sex with it between halves. Hamamaminananammmmm (sex noise)….

And how about this JFB?

That’s a butt that could bring world peace wherever it went. If they had this butt around back in 1948, apartheid probably would have never started in the first place. People would have just argued over who could touch that butt, and subsequently force that butt to be theirs. I mean, look at it! It’s glorious.

Lots more awesome soccer butts after the jump! Continue Reading…

I’m pretty sure I sat next to this girl on my last flight from NYC to LAX. She was farting the whole time and pretending to “sleep” so that I wouldn’t punch her in the face for making me nauseous and relentlessly attacking my olfactory system for close to 6 hours. (You can read about that awful experience here.)

It was brutal and now I understand why Asian people wear those surgical masks on planes. It’s not because their afraid of the swine flu, it’s because they sat next to a seriel-farter for an international flight. That shit changes you, man.

But here’s proof that karma is a bitch. Someone got a light?

Too bad those girls didn’t have a Better Marriage Blanket to squelch this girl’s thunder ass.

HOT PANTS!!!