Spring Pilgrimage 2006 Highlights

Felatio wins the Tardster's Invitational golf event

Irish wins the Stones championship

SRU Tards 4, Geniuses 2 in Softball Championship (Felatio and HMO Blue, Tard Co-MVPs)Geniuses 4, SRU Tards 2 in exhibition game (Esteban, Genius MVP)

Meersky and Ace win the horseshoes title

Poppinfresh wins Texas Hold'em tournament

Francois wins Magic showdown besting Cupcake and General Jeffy

T-dog wins "song of the year" and performs an impressive acoustical set

Este chokes down a Bluey burger...and survives!

McMex (HMO Blue) actually does some work (Ma, look!...a white buffalo!)

Bluey would bang Jessica Alba, but by T-dog's logic, would take an extra 2 minutes to come

The Iron Beav (aka The Gas Nazi) gives the lowdown on being a cold hearted beyatch

Pilgrimage Jeopardy winners: Erie&Poppinfresh, Bluey&Poppinfresh, and Meersky&Francois

Felatio patents the overhand throw in horseshoes

Sparrow barely avoids ear cancer but avoids re-injury as he sits out softball

Ace and Gary go the BJ's for some jacket licking but come back empty handed

Choder gains solids points for 2 stellar pitching performances only to have them be pissed away during unfortunate "Under the Tuscan Sun" disclosure, moving Bluey's "Prince of Tides" to the back pages

Warren officially issued a Congressional Medal of Honor in absentia for his valor in saving pilgrimagers from Cupcake's nearly disastrous fire while HMO Blue's role has been officially downgraded to barely helpful due to consistent laziness


Careful With That Axe-Wound, Eugene!

Tonight officially kicked off the pilgrimage as Este, Tracer, Ace, Gary, Poppinfresh and Erie came up to the shores of Lake Erie to get things started.

One of the first conversations concerned the various euphemisms for the vagina and why the word cunt brings such a visceral response from females whereas pussy or twat don't seem to even touch a tenth of the nerve that is reserved for the dreaded "c" word.

Tracer tried to elaborate why cunt is the nastier word but I remained unconvinced that her explanations truly hit the point. Aren't all the words supposed to mean the same thing? Why do similar meaning words have such varying connotations? I have to imagine at one point historically, the word must have been used in some derogatory slander of women to give it such disdain such as "nigger" gets it's power from it's tie to rascism.

Alas, I guess I won't find out tonight but I am still inquisitive. When used as noun not referring to the vagina, pussy means wimp, pansy, fag or has some sort of effeminate descriptive (usually tagged to a man). Twat used as a noun seems to indicate someone who is stupid, annoying or insignificant. But, you hurl the word cunt at a woman and watch out!

Tracer said that there is no other word that you can call a woman that is worse than cunt. It's a big no-no.

"Then I guess if I called you an axe-wound, that would be okay?"(punch in the arm)

I guess not. It seems that calling a woman an axe-wound is synonomous to calling her a cunt.

Isn't research great?Have a safe trip everybody. See you soon.


Bebis Rocks!

My daughter, Bebis wrapped up her basketball season with a 16-12 win.

She had 4 baskets, including the game winner with 50 seconds left in the game, as she stole the ball at midcourt and drove to the right side and drained a 15 foot jumper.

I don't think there is a girl out there with her speed. If she ever grows to my eldest daughter, Loni's height, WNBA watch out!


Spring 2006 Pilgrimage Odds!

"Sparrow" Flowboy walks into another glass sliding door: 3:1

Odds that Sparrow re-injures his knee doing something completely retarded: 2:1.***submitted by Sparrow

Este & Tracer going to Cleveland to see a "free" movie 5 minutes after showing up at the cottage: 2:1 (very likely)

Real cost of the free movie (@$2.97 per gal gas prices + snacks and drinks): +/- $40 (what a bargain!)

The opportunity to give Este as much shit as possible for it: priceless!

Gary (of Ace and Gary fame or aka FNG) getting tagged in the pumpkin by a dodgeball: 12:1

Gary sharing glamour shots of his Mom with rest of group: 4M:1

Poppinfresh & Erie showing off their savage tans from the Keys by wearing thongs all weekend:Poppinfresh: 45,000:1Erie: 2:1 (yeah, baby! throwing it out there like a frisbee!)

Poppinfresh wins the Sugar Hill Classic (with Sparrow on the shelf) 3:2, Felatio 3-1,Bluey wins 5-1, Rest of the field 12-1

Bluey monopolizing over 40% of the pilgrimage weekend conversation: 1:1 (even money, baby!)

Bluey bleeding out after the New Jersey Devils trounce his beloved Rangers: 30:1

Odds that Bluey will tell his worn-out "I almost bled out on my bathroom floor" story: 1:1***submitted by Choder

Forrandez reinjuring his big toe diving to his left at the SS position and turning a doubleplay singlehandedly displaying his mad skilz 1:1

Irish getting drunk on Absolute Cintron 1:1 andblowing Highmark Blue 15:1
Highmark Blue blowing him 15:1
The two of them killing each other 8:1
performing all three in a span of 12 minutes 10:1

Irish in his drunken stupor get obnoxious 1B:1 (trick question, he was obnoxious to begin with)and then goes for a drunken walk on the beach and isn't seen for 2 hours 3:1

number of people who miss him when he's gone +/- 2 (and go looking for him)
number of apologies Irish makes the following day +/- 86

Number of hours until Meersky insults Tracer for the first time +/- 2
insult involves the terms, Iron Beaver 6-1, sucking his crank 8-1, Bulldyke 4-1, hit the wall 21-1.

Number of times Meersky calls Yaugs "cupcake": +/- 10 (cooincidental for number of Zebra cakes in a box?)

Number of times Meersky utters the line "you cheatin' fuck": +/-3

VBP Softball Championship at Chavez Retard: Geniuses favored over SRU Tards by 3 runs.

Softball MVP odds, Francois 3:1, Meersky 7:1, Felatio 8:1, Pimp-N-Playa 4:1, T-dog (quality!) 9-1, rest of field 10:1 except light hitting 15 year old Mexican kid, Forrandez, who carries a Mendoza line batting average and is only known for his defensive prowess 99:1

Age of Forrandez +/- 14 years of age

VBP Dodgeball Tournament at Tardington Courts: SRU Tards favored by 1 game (best of 15)

Who gets plunked in the head this year? Bluey/Gary repeat 10:1, Francois 100:1, Choder 80:1, Rest of field 15:1

Pimp-N-Playa gets shut out by another diner waitress 1:3 (very likely)

Plus/Minus for Total Amount of Yards Pimp-N-Playa assesses for various jizzmopping penalties: +/- 1,000 yards

Pimp-N-Playa utters his 100th incantation of the word "fuck" (in any form), +/- Friday, 9pm (remember, he's coming Thursday)

Sparrow plays possum and announces he is fit to golf and wins: 25:1
If above event comes to fruition, how many hours after the match until he is kneecapped by a fellow Genius +/-2

Trimpdog and Yaugs repeat as horseshoe champs at the Tardbeach Pits: 12:1 (T-dog does have to show up to win)

Chances of another Meersky-Bluey pairing: 6-1

Number of ounces of piss that would start flowing in Irish's pants if that would to occur +/-12

Number of 18 year old, Rock girls that will miss T-Dog's manhood while he's at the pilgrimage +/- 8 (you stud!)

Number of times Irish says "Ohkaaaayyy!" and "What" in his Lil' Jon voice and "I'm Rick James....bitch" +/- 80

Where Choder hides the beloved BOG this time:the freezer 19:1, the crisper 15:1, in his own ass 10:1. (Would that be considered gay?)

Odds Choder would bitch about having odds for putting the book in the freezer, 1:1***submitted by Highmark Blue

Number of trains that Felatio will miss out on photographing during the pilgrimage +/- 16

Number of trains that the guys plan on running on Felatio after he falls asleep for missing recent pilgrimages +/- 16

Felatio - Horseshoe - Tree +/- 35ft in the air

Number of times that Ace gravitates to the seawall for comfort during the weekend +/- 12

Ace and Gary perform a repeat performance of the infamous coed jacket licking incident of 2005 20:1

Ace refusing to partake in any of the games or sporting events protesting the fact that no "medals" are awarded 1:1

Yaugs aka "Cupcake" burns down the cottage 11:1 (which incidentally is his shoe size)

Este burns down cottage after insensitive fucks make fun of the Ricky Martin retrospective selections on his Ipod. 16:1 (Livin' the Vida Loca!) Bet on Choder to be the kindling!

Number of Zebra Cakes consumed by Yaugs +/- 20

General Jeffy gets dillrock payback 15 years later, 20:1 (represent, yo, motherfuckers!)

General Jeffy utters "war is hell" 1,000:1

Francois cancels due to a report due 100:1

A "whipped" Francois brings his new girlfriend to the pilgrimage 15:1

Francois chokes on a hotdog a la the Lord Stanley's Orphans choke job to Pimp-N-Playa's Seed 8:1 (numbers seem familiar, huh?)

Things that Irish claims are "ruining the pilgrimage"
Halo 400:1, golf 12:1, breakfast at the diner 10:1, women 18:1, italians 2:1.

Handjob grows a sac and a set of cajones and tells the wife once and for all that he wears the pants +/- 1 sundress

Erik the Anal Viking announces that the wife is history and promptly whips out the chickenheart for Tracer and Erie 1M:1

Blue decides that the pilgrimage is for him and comes up for the festivities 500:1

Bluey ends up singing and playing "Dust in the Wind" at his funeral on Monday 2:1 (assuming he comes)

Gavo misses the pilgrimage due to an Auschwitz re-enactment 55:1

Habib drops out of school and goes to pilgrimage then goes on a Jack Daniels induced rampage after getting so much shit for missing pilgrimages that leaves 16 people dead and 4 wishing they were: 4M:1

Officer Mehoff gets arrested for building a shed that violates Kittanning building codes and is sodomized in jail when Bubba and Leroy play Texas Hold'em for who gets Mehoff's anal virginity: 250:1 (that's what you get for missing pilgrimages!)

Grommie realizes that instead of emailing porn, he could use the time spent to actually hang with the "cool" kids 3000:1

Hamdog realizes that there is a Poison concert at the Rochester Future Farmers of America Fair and promptly misses the pilgrimage to attend (cooincidentally, Duran Duran and Winger are the opening acts).

Hamdog finally comes out of the closet after a positive movie review of Brokeback Mountain 14:1



I suffer from chronic road rage but nothing gets my blood boiling in my car more than the OnStar commercials. This is the service you can get with your car where you are GPS tracked everywhere you go and immediately put in touch with a representative if you wreck, so they can call the police or paramedics. Of course they sell the service by selling Fear to morons.

The commercial that drives me up the wall is the one where the woman gets into a fender bender and the OnStar rep asks if she's been hurt.

"I dont know (crying)...I'm bleeding from my head (hysterical)....help (crying profusely)".

I don't know why but every time I hear that commercial, the lady reminds me of Johnny Sac's (from the Sopranos) wife Ginny. She drops her Snickers bar on the floor and in an attempt to retrieve it between her massive legs, she plows into a phone pole and hits her head off the dashboard. The commercial then, in my mind, proceeds from there.

The reason why this commercial makes me want to strangle somebody, is that first of all, the woman is the whiniest bitch in the world. How do you get to middle age being such a big fucking baby? Suck it up already. Of course, this would be OnStar's target audience. People that are afraid of leaving their house alone because god forbid what'll happen to them if they didn't have 24 hour access to help.

If I smashed my car up, I'd be mad (either at my own stupidity or that of another) and I wouldn't be crying to an OnStar rep. How fucking embarrassing. At least drop dead with dignity if that's going to be the case. I think what this generation needs is a little dose of helping yourself in a life/death situation. Why do we feel the need to be tracked by GPS everywhere we go? Most people these days carry a cell phone. Call 911 yourself. If you can't identify to the operator where you are, then you deserve to die.

The other OnStar commercial goes something like this:

Caller (in a southern drawl): Hello, OnStar...

OnStar rep: What can I do for you sir?

Caller: I just locked my 14 children in my vehicle. Can you help me?

OnStar rep: Sure sir, what is your ID number?

Caller: 6729086555

OnStar rep: How did you fit 14 kids in a Chevy Cavalier, sir?

Caller: It wasn't easy.

OnStar rep: 14 kids??? How old are they? Aren't they unable to unlock the door by themselves?

Caller: They range in age from 2 months to 14 years of age.

OnStar rep: Can't the 14 year old unlock the door?

Caller: She would, if she was conscious.

OnStar rep: Say again sir?

Caller: You see, me and my wife flew to Mobile, Alabama to visit relatives and we left the kids in the car in the airport's long term parking lot for two weeks. I told them not to leave the car or I'd whup them. I guess we didn't leave enough food and water. And wouldn'ja know it, I left my keys at the bar last night.

OnStar rep: Ok, sir. You're car should be unlocked now.

Caller: Thanks....ooooweeeeee, my god what a smell. I think a few of them are still alive honey.

OnStar rep: Your welcome sir, Thanks for using Onstar! We're here when you need us!

Put OnStar on the list with the $20 lottery ticket as a stupid waste of money aimed at stupid people.

The 1986 Miracle Mets: An Old-School Perspective!

Everybody remembers the 10th inning of Game 6 of the 1986 World Series when Mets CF Mookie Wilson hits a groundball through Bill Buckner's legs to win the game for the Amazin's.

Thanks to one guy with way too much time on his hands. The bottom of the 10th inning has been re-created using classic video game, RBI Baseball with the real game call by Vin Scully overlayed.

Mad props to my buddy Benzene for finding this tasty nugget. I couldn't help but laugh my ass off. Whether you're a Mets fan or a fan of old school video games, give this link a whirl and revisit the magic!



The People That You Meet When Using The Restroom - Volume 2

If you remember awhile back, I told a story about the adult daycare facility that resides in my place of work and the nutty characters I run into on a daily basis. The last installment was for the character named The Cheerleader. Today, I give you one of the more depraved characters.

Picture this: You walk into a bathroom that has a row of toilet stalls on the right hand wall and a row of urinals against the front wall directly adjacent to the stalls. The last toilet stall faces the bank of urinals. As you walk in to empty your bladder, you notice a pair of feet in the last stall.

Pretty normal and typical, right?

Well, not exactly because the feet are not pointing at you, they are pointing towards the entrance door with their heels against the wall and you shake your head and do your business because you don't even want to know what the guy is doing in there.

After seeing this several times, I give him a name, Sideways Stander, because by now, I know that he's just standing in the stall sideways apparently not doing anything. I try my best to ignore him but my buddy and fellow co-worker Blue, has a different name for him which sheds light on his stall activity. Blue calls him The Peeper, because it's apparent to him that what the guy is doing in there is standing with his back against the right side wall of the stall and peeping through the small sliver of space in the door that overlooks the urinals. Blue surmises that he sideways stands in there and watches men urinate for as much time as he can until the daycare starts to miss him.

Normally, I don't try to pay much attention to other guys in the bathroom but Blue has hit the nail on the head. If you look at the stall while urinating, you can see his eye studying your every move. He stays in there as long as he possibly can and moves once he thinks he's been suspected. Then, sometimes, he goes to visit the other floor's bathrooms to repeat the process.

It's pretty erie. I actually busted him one day and said "What the Hell, again?" and flushed him out of his porcelain roost. He came suddenly out of the stall with his disheveled hair and crazy look. He didn't wash his hands (big surprise, huh?) and muttered as he evacuated as quick as he could. I caught him in the upstairs bathroom later that day as well.

While he's still lurking around, he seems to pick his spots now. He doesn't loiter in the restroom stall for a half hour at a time anymore.

I really think that the government should pass legislation that adult daycare centers have to be equipped with their own restrooms. The last thing I need is some nut staring at my package when I'm trying to relieve myself.

Some of the characters are amusing, like The Banker and The Cowboy, but others are just as disgusting like The Bleeder. But those will be left for another day.


Don Felatio's Eating Problem

I have a buddy named Felatio who has an eating problem.

It's not that he over eats. It's that he usually misses his mouth when he attempts eating. I had the guys over my place one night for poker and we ordered pizza. I walked into the kitchen just in time to observe the following event:

Mr Felatio is talking to a buddy, he folds his slice of pizza and proceeds to miss his entire mouth with the slice. The sauce streaks his cheek and a big chunk of pizza cheese and sauce falls to the kitchen floor. He is totally oblivious to it.

I yell at him and he says, "What???"

"Holy Christ, Felatio, did you get any of that pizza in your mouth?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Look at the floor dude"

Don Felatio sees the pizza and sauce at his feet on the floor.

"I didn't do that!"

"The hell you didn't. I watched the whole thing. You missed your whole mouth and the pizza ended up on the floor!"

You're probably saying to yourself, Bluey's exagerating like he usually does. I'm not, I'm dead serious. How a person can a) miss his open mouth with food and b) be totally unaware that his teeth are chewing emptiness is beyond me.

Don Felatio is one special person indeed in that aspect.

On another occasion, I had the guys over for a Halo night. This time Felatio was eating a bowl of popcorn that I made for him. I'd watch him occasionally since we were in the living room. Apart from the fact that 3 out of every five popcorn pieces missed his mouth, I said to myself, "How big a mess can he make eating popcorn?".

An hour later I found out when we turned the lights on. When he got up off the floor, there was a halo of popcorn around him like a crime scene dead body chalk line. If you looked closely enough, you could make out his body image in the fallen popcorn similar to the shadows of human beings created when the volcano at Pompeii erupted.

I looked at him and said "What the hell are you going to do when you get married? No woman is going to put up with this. Don't you have any nerve endings in your mouth area that tell you that you are missing your piehole?"

Well, Don Felatio is married now and all I can say is thank god I bought him a silver plated eating funnel for his wedding gift. I just may have well saved his marriage!


A Special Two-fer: Bluey's Sports Legend and Separated At Birth Candidate: John Davidson, G- NY Rangers 1975-83

JD is probably the most influencial sports figure that I ever saw play.

He played on some of the most overmatched NY Ranger teams ever and stood on his head to win. He is singlehandedly responsible for the Rangers improbable defeat of the NY Islanders in 1979, propelling the Rangers to the Stanley Cup Finals, while the Islanders went on to win the next four Cups.

Davidson denied the hated NY Islanders that first Cup chance. The Isles were something like 51-15-14 that year and were clearly the front runners. Had they passed the Davidson brick wall, I think they would have drubbed the Montreal Canadiens, who were good but were an old team. Davidson never quit, no matter how badly the team played in front of him. Although he is more known for the red, white and blue mask, my personal favorite was his lone ranger mask, since on most nights he alone carried the team.

Unfortunately, back injuries shortened his wonderful career. His overall stats were not hugely impressive but considering that he played on two pathetic teams, the St. Louis Blues and the NY Rangers, his stats don't reflect his greatness. I believe that in addition to belonging in the Hall of Fame, I believe him to be the best goaltender to ever play the game.

In 1979, he brought the Rangers past the Islanders and to the Cup Finals on sheer will.

He is undoubtably my all time favorite sports figure and he is also a "Separated At Birth" contest winner.

Does he look familiar to anybody you know?


Bluey On Bluey

Did anybody catch the whining and bitching Barry Bonds did about how hard his Dad, Bobby, was on him and that he only succeeded to spite his father? Anybody out there shedding tears for him? It must be nice to dump on the guy once he's dead and try to stir up sympathy from the fans for himself.

Well, while we're on the topic of fathers, shed some for me. My head is not as fat as Barry's and I'd like to think I'm slightly more likeable.

When I was a kid, my Dad was a tyrant. Aside from the random beatings with his belt, he used to come to my baseball games and dish out an even harsher verbal beating. He was the sort of father that when I brought home a 99 on a test, he'd ask why I didn't get a 100. He was a perfectionist and demanded the same from me. When I wasn't feeling well and wanted to take a night off from my part time job, he would berate me and push my ass out the door. Right or wrong, he drove me to always give my best effort. This didn't change on the baseball diamond either. He was ultra competitive and he didn't accept anything less from me. Win at all costs. That was the lesson and what he expected from me at all times.

I was a hell of a baseball player when I was a kid. My Dad spent a fair amount of time teaching me how to play the game and always made time to come to my games. For the most part, I proudly look back at those days because I know he loved watching me kick ass. But every once in a while when I was not at the top of my game, he rode me pretty hard from the stands. He could be unmerciful.

As I walked to the plate, the other kids parents would chant my name and offer encouragement. My Dad would glare in at me and I usually tried to avoid his eye contact.

First pitch: swing and a miss at a low pitch in the dirt.

"What the hell are you swinging at?" comes a yell from the crowd

Second pitch: Called strike 2

"Get the goddamn bat off your shoulders! What are you looking at?" comes another yell.

Third pitch: swing and a miss at a pitch above the letters

"How are you supposed to hit the ball when it's up in your eyes?", comes another rant.

As I walk back to the dugout, he gets off his seat in the stands and follows me back to the fence behind the first base coach. I walk up to him as I have customarily done after strikeouts (fortunately, I rarely struck out).

"What the hell was that?"

Bluey looks down at his spikes. "I don't know Dad"

"Well, let me tell you what I know. I didn't come all the way down here to watch you strike out. Get your head in the game for Christ's sake!"

"Ok, sorry Dad"

"You call that baseball? If you're going to hit like that, your coach should take you right out of the game and sit your ass down on the bench. You have another at bat like that and I'm going to ask him to take you out. Your sisters hit the ball better than that!"

"Then do it goddamn it! I don't even want to play anymore!" (Bluey, now starting to tear up)

"What are you going to do now? Start crying like a big baby? Get your ass back in the dugout and play!"

Of course it wasn't always that bad, but he was not above heckling me a few times each game. The incident above happened when I was 11 years old. I had made the all star team for the first time that year and hit cleanup for my team. I never missed making an all star team again until I stopped playing at 17 years of age. As I got older, I realized that I was destined to be a fastball hitter. I had a big problem with the duece, the uncle charlie or the good old american curveball. That's when I realized that no matter how hard Dad would push, I wasn't going to be drawing paychecks on the merits of my baseball skills. I wish I could tell you that I had Barry Bonds success and started sticking syringes in my ass while collecting 15M a year, but such was not my fate.

I like to think that Dad helped me get where I am today by always riding my ass. Of course I could have done without all the theatrics (and the beatings). But he was who he was. Battling his own demons and doing the best he knew how to do. He's a lot different now. He actually ended up as an awesome human being and a very loving father. It really is a miracle.

That's the happy ending. Of course we still have a good laugh or two about what an ass he was when we get together. When you come full circle and can call your Dad an ass for what he put you through and he finally understands, life is good.

Love ya Dad!


Basic Instinct 2: I Tawt I Taw Her Ovaries! I Did, I Did!

I just heard on the news today that they made a sequel to Basic Instinct, "starring" Sharon Stone again and it only made about 3 million dollars in it's opening weekend. Is anybody really surprised by this? Oh, I'm sure my buddy Hamdog, the movie reviewer, will give it his customary 7 stars out of ten (I'm still waiting for him to really trash on some movie), but honestly, what idiot thought that America was thirsting for more Sharon Stone tripe?

First of all, she hit the wall, even by my standards, which is pretty relaxed compared to my buddy Meersky.

Second of all, the first movie wasn't exactly a gem.

If they really wanted to make a sequel that would have done box office, they should have done something like this:

Scene 1 (inside a London flat)Girl (naked, preferably Stone about a year later, not 15!) tosses and turns in her dream.

cut scene to the dream

(In a Police Station under bright lights with Newman (you know who I mean) and Michael Douglas looking on).

Girl uncrosses and crosses her legs (sans panties) but this time in super slo mo, taking about an hour and forty minutes to accomplish, instead of the split second in Basic Instinct 1. The "Blue Danube" plays in the background.

Then, girl wakes up, looks around and then falls back to sleep.

Credits roll. Poetry, pure poetry. It probably would represent the best acting Sharon Stone has ever done. Face it, that 2 second scene is the ONLY reason why anyone went to see the first movie.

Hey Sharon, your 10 minutes are up! Boy am I dissing on actresses lately or what? Any chance of us getting a movie starring Sandra Bullock, Nicole Kidman, Elizabeth Hurley and Evangeline Lilly as four girlfriends who bond by watching NY Ranger games, while playing Twister in jello with nothing on but Ranger jerseys?

Thank you to America for digging a hole for Sharon Stone.

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