Elton, thinks I'm some kind of comedic genius...or he said that I was funny, one time and I took that to mean, I'm epically fucking hilarious. So, he invited me to be a guest star on this blog. Here's the thing. The “guest star” is just that – guest star. It's like being an extra on the season's top tv show. When you're a “guest star”, you're some established actor (or it's a re-run and they're advertising you as a guest star--now that you've made it big--since you played some side character on one episode).
Well, here's the thing, I'm not established. I'm a nobody. People always say I'm funny though. So, there's that. Though, just once, I want to go Joe Pesci on someone when they say I'm funny, like in that movie. I'd probably fuck it all up. I get movies confused. I'd probably end up stabbing someone that looks like Ray Liotta in the neck with a Bic pen and then bang Bob De Niro's wife before trying to abduct that McCulkin kid (who went on to bang Mila Kunis, by the way, who the fuck would have thought that?)
Professional guest star Heather Locklear here,
you might remember my tits from shows like,
"The Love Boat", "T.J. Hooker" and "Melrose Place".
(Note: We in the “entertainment industry” just call him Bob. Bob De Niro. Not Robert. Just Bob. Or Bobbie.)
(Note: note: When I say we in the “entertainment industry”, I mean, Elton and me, and perhaps other people who blog about random things.)
To everyone else...it's Robert "Murder Eyes" Di Niro.
Sorry. I ramble. I tend to do that sometimes and when I do, it's not pretty. It might take a while to read through this. So if you're at work reading this, go the fuck back to work! Unless you're the IT guy. IT guy's see EVERYTHING you do. The IT guy knows you, better than you do. He doesn't care though, because he hates his job. It's nothing like those fucking assholes on that ITT tech commercial said it would be. His job is to fix fuck ups from morons. And to delete traces of the CEO's on-the-job porn surfing.
So, he doesn't care about you unless he's told to. Basically, your internet habits are like smoking weed. You think you're secretive about it, but the cops know you do it. They just don't give a shit. They're fixing fuck-ups from morons too (and trying to get their IT guy to erase the traces of porn on their in car computers). The best advice: don't invite the man into your life and he won't be compelled to do something about you doing something. In fact, buy your company's IT guy a hooker. Not a shitty hooker either, one that will at least toss his salad. What the fuck was I talking about? Shit, this isn't even the main blog post. This is just the intro. Fuck. Anyway.
Hi, hi, welcome, everybody...no, no wait. Shit. Stop waving.
I read a review about this blog. It was stated as “always funny", some other shit, he's a “humorist”, other stuff about testicles and that it was “work safe”. Well, given that Elton uses "fuck" semi-infrequently I guess it is. Probably, with the same frequency a guy gets his bobo honked on by his fiance. It talked about how he cited shit with links too. Fuck that. I'm not your mother. If I say something and you want to see "factual proof" or read more about it, go fucking Google it. I don't have time to look shit up.
Or hobbies, like making tiny men doing menial tasks
(that's code for "masturbating").
Kidding. There's always time for that.
As for being a “humorist”, no. I'm not a humorist. Fuck that word. Every time I hear that word I think of a douche' bag. Not the vagina wash or the “ride around on their crotch rockets wearing a tee shirt, shorts, flip flops, and a helmet hanging off the back so that chicks can hop on and feel safe when they ride” kind of douche' bags either. I'm talking about the “rich educated douche' bags”. Like, Ryan Phillipe's character in Cruel Intentions. I didn't even watch that movie other than the good part (See how I didn't put a link in for the good part of the movie Cruel Intentions? Yeah, Elton would have put a link in there, because he babies you.) but, I think that he's probably a douche bag, because he goes to a prep school, scores the babes, and wears sweaters. (Seriously though, go Google that part. Two chicks kiss.)
What the fuck was I talking about? See, I don't even know what this post is about. Shit, I don't even know how to define this shit. Intro-related-instructional paragraphs/post? Yeah, that sounds alright. Anyway, here's my intro-related-instructional paragraphs/post numero-Mexican-uno. EAT IT!
When Bill isn't rambling incoherently and staring at fat women in slack jawed amazement, he's usually busy safe guarding streets from roving gangs of elderly women and Leonardo DiCaprio's Wikipedia page from rogue editors. He has also been known to have staring contests with the sun...and win, murder whole tribes of soda cans and shit freedom. Yes, literally shit...freedom.