Author Archive

Sunday Funday

Sunday, July 26th, 2009

Yeah, Scales here. I’m sitting at the bar by myself like a complete goonberry. (It has a All You Can Eat Buffet, and I need booze to wash off the sactimonious bullshit that is church.) (Yeah, I go to church, but only to get laid.) But sitting there in my pew, hiding my erection, I got to wondering. Who is God? Where did He come from? Why was He so much more badass back in the day?

Sodom and Gammorah (I don’t know how to spell the second one, it’s not like I read the Bible, I do cocaine off of it.) were not destroyed by suicide bombers or the recession, they were smoted by the Allmighty. And though there is no historical proof that those two cities ever existed, dumb, redneck people believe it so it must have happened. Why would God kill those who were wicked back then but let Mexico survive today? It makes no goddamn sense. Is God now merely an observer? Does He not act on our behalf? Without God, is there a good or evil? The answer is, I hope not.

A friend of mine once told me, “I hope there is an afterlife, because I would be sorely disappointed if this life was it.” My friend then went to the Olive Garden with his boyfriend and had an all-night coke binge and homo orgy. (*cough* Ballzdeep) When it comes to the afterlife, I hope there is no such thing. Heaven or hell, they both are going to suck. If they won’t allow coke in heaven, what’s the policy on blowjobs and infedility? Either way, paradise is not the place for me. Not a lot to discuss really, just my two cents. My only hope is that when Satan sees me show up in the firey brimstone pit that is hell, he cracks open a bottle of tequila and gives me a solid chestbump. “This party just got started!”

Bitches…

Tuesday, July 21st, 2009

Well, well, well… Hello Internet, long time no blog. I’ve had a little legal problem of sorts, what’s your fucking excuse? Apparently it is still frowned upon to have a massive bag of cocaine in the United States of America. What the fuck? I wasn’t flying planes into buildings or raping children… I was doing mirror races with minors. (Editor’s note: a mirror race is when you line up at least a foot and half of a cocaine rail and race someone else to finish it.) I can’t help it if supercop is looking in the window at the time. Also, apparently that is probable cause to walk into someone’s residence and arrest everyone. Fuck America! Anyways, the reason I’m blogging tonight is to answer a reasonable question, when some random skank from a distant past texts you, what do you do?

Do you ignore it, do you answer it truthfully, or do you respond to it with a sexually inappropriate story about your masturbatorial tendencies? I don’t know. I try to play it cool, but when it happens twice in one day, I’m at a fucking loss. I imagine the two skanks met up with each other and tried to play Scales for a fool. Scales might be many things, a derelict, a deviant, and even a boy-rapist; but a fool I am not. That is why I ask the smartest, sleaziest person I know for advice, the Internet. What do I do?

Skank 1) I almost banged her but I didn’t. Why not, you ask? Because she was dating my drug dealer at the time. Yeah, I know, tough call. How hot was she? Good question. She is super pale, but has a nice rack and real nice skin. The vagina? I don’t know, but I imagine it looks a little sloppy with a random hair or two. Kinda like a bodybuilder’s hemroid with a gash in it. She texted very plainly after two-month’s radio silence, “I miss you” WTF? I’m sorry, I forgot we fucked and I owe you the random hook up follow through. I haven’t thought about you EVER! Not once. Happy? What do you want me to say? “I’d love to jizz in your vaginal canal?” or “Your tits were made for sucking?” I don’t care! I actually would rather you not communicate such creepy shit to me. I hope it was a joke. I really hope you and your friends were drinking wine on a terrace somewhere and thought it would be a good idea to text that big-dicked motherfucker from your past, and try to renew a late night fuck-buddy. I’m too old to be friends with someone with a mouth, ass, AND, vagina. Anyways, what do I do Internet? I sent her the usual, “I haven’t heard from you, I assume you got it aborted.” text, but is that appropriate? I don’t know.

Skank 2) I banged her last summer and she showed up at my house last weekend for a cocaine rave I was having. She was without child, and looking decent. We did some stuff. (not fucking because she has a boyfriend and is 19, which is more mature.) Anyways, she texts that she wants to hang. I tell her I’m at the bar and she is not yet old enough to partake. She asks if I want to hang out later. Do I arrange the late night rendevous? Do I tell her to study for community college?Do I fuck her again, condomless, and let her dumbass boyfriend raise my spawn as his own? I already know the answer, just humor me. I just sent her a text that I’m too drunk to drive, (ed. note, Hahahaha) and she needs to pick me up. Then I’m going to fuck her. Pray for me Argentina.

Scales, out…

Things To Steal From The Office

Monday, June 1st, 2009

Other than a paycheck, health insurance, and a break in between drunken stupors, a job can provide much more. In fact, if you are willing to steal, it can provide everything you need. If you aren’t willing to steal, good for you because you’re fucking stupid. I’m not but I am lazy. Why on Earth would I go to the store when I can get everything I need at the same place that I despise going to everyday? It’s win-win.

Office Supplies
Pens, paper, staples, fax machine, and anything that would give your bathroom office a more professional look are always great to take off of the company’s hand. The thing is, everything is fair game. You can’t be a baller by just taking stamps or white-out. You’ve got to think big. So big that you’d be above suspicion. For example, I’ve always wondered if you could use a paper shredder as a kitchen appliance. Stay late, take one home, tell the boss it was broken and you threw it out, and remind him that his bitch ass better get a new one ASAP. Shit’s cheaper to buy a new than to fix the old one. Better yet, what the pussyfuck am I going to do with a paper shredder? I don’t know, but my new Staples cheese shredder is awesome and it looks great on my marble counter top.

Cleaning Supplies
Yes, I steal cleaning supplies from my workplace. Fuck it, I hate the goddamn place and I truly am the laziest fucker in the continental US. Why go to the store when the ladies’ restroom has the toilet paper I like? I spend most of my time in there anyways. Oh shit, I’m out of windex. There’s a ton of it on that cart that the Mexican lady uses. Ask and ye shall receive. Plus, she’s interrupted multiple of my late night stroke sessions, so I’m going to take away something she loves, her bottle of Pledge. Seriously, trash bags, paper towels, hand soap, it’s all there for the taking. Don’t take too much at once, stick to an inventory routine, and be cool. Someone asks questions, follow the first rule of criminal enterprise. Blame the Mexican.

Food
I am that guy who breaks every “honor system” that is in place. It didn’t stop me in high school or college, why would a sign on a basket of bagels stop me? As a matter of fact, just the idea that I would pay my not-really hard, earned money on food left out on a table is a slap in my face. What’s next, me not taking co-worker’s lunches? Not in this lifetime, pal. If you didn’t want me sneaking into the break room, taking your clearly marked container of lunch, and eating all of it in the bathroom, then you should have thought of that before you brought lasagna to the office. I get it, your home life is better than mine, but that doesn’t mean you get to show it off without me ruining it for you. I’m the real victim here. Not really, because I’m white, but I’m going to take your shit anyways. Eventually they’re going to find all of those empty Tupperware containers in the women’s restroom and somebody’s going to get in trouble. Not this pimp.

Scales out and all over your face.

Old People and Young Children, Where’s Their Hitler?

Tuesday, May 19th, 2009

Dear old people and young children, run. Run as fast as you can and then hide. Hide somewhere where no one will ever find you. Because if I hear another kid scream at the top of its lungs over candy or another lazy ass old person ask for help, I’m going to snap. I’m going dropkick you in the face and then beat you to death with the wooden side of a hammer. Why the wooden side? Because it will take longer and be much more satisfying to my bloodlust. I hope your loved ones see me in the act of ending your life because more than likely, they hate you too.

hitler

The thing is, both of these groups cause me massive amounts of irritability for the same reasons. They’re both annoying. They both only think of themselves. They are completely useless and helpless. They contribute nothing. They are constantly shitting themselves. They don’t even give decent head.

Old people, what is it about reaching old age that you just decide, “I’m going to be the biggest pain in the ass to everyone around me.” ???? Seriously, just because you have nothing to live for does not excuse you to complain about every little thing that comes across your feeble mind. Yeah I’d be pissed if my sex organs didn’t work but I still wouldn’t say a sunny day was too bright or that my soup is too hot. Buy some goddamned sunglasses or wait five minutes you fucking prune-faced goon!
Also, I don’t care if your family hates you and refuses to put up with your bullshit any longer, it is not okay to go up to a complete stranger and suffocate them with inane chatter. Call a sex line if you want to talk to someone, do not try to strike up a conversation with me just because we shop at the same fucking grocery store. I don’t care if I look like a dead celebrity from your wonder years, do not talk to me. The only thing I want to hear come out of your mouth is a distinct gargling noise as you struggle with your last breath and finally die.

Young children, you are vile, dirty little mongrels that deserve to be molested and murdered. If your parents let you run around in public like a wild animal you, then it is retribution when your uncle takes you around back and violently thrusts his penis into your innocent, little hiney. Everytime I see an adult strike a small, defenseless child, I do cartwheels in my head and think, “Hit ‘em harder!” No matter what, the kid fucking deserves it.
It is not cute when you walk into a building and then read aloud every single sign in your eyeline. (That goes for you too, old people.) Screaming “Ahscuse me! Ahscuuuuse ME!” is not an appropriate attempt of getting one’s attention. The next time a little shit-head stares at me for more than thirty seconds, I’m going to grab him or her by the throat and javelin throw the bitch face first against a brick wall. I want to see cherry pie smear marks from the point of impact down to your lifeless, mangled body.
And you little girls, make with the head or stop cock teasing. If you go around flashing your “Strawberry Shortcake” panties, I’m going to get an erection and use your body like a flesh-light.

I thought this swine flu was going wipe out more seniors and little kids but I guess I’ll have to wait for the next medical emergency to come out of Mexico.

Adiós, dickheads

scales’ Role Models

Sunday, May 17th, 2009

Binion

Read

Blackbeard

Hello Internet people, how are you doing? Hold that thought, because I don’t care. Many of you know the things and people that I despise, but are clueless about what I like, except for titty rails. God I love titty rails. All anyone needs in life is a massive quantity of high quality cocaine and a nice, bountiful pair of breasts. Anyways, I thought I would share with you the few people I respect and adore. These men could have done anything with their lives and could have improved the quality of life for those around them. They did not. These great souls did what they wanted and felt so good doing it. They realized that life is short and harsh and that there is no certainty after death, so you might as well live it up now.

Ted Binion
Those of you who are not from the Vegas area might be unaware of the truly great man who is Ted Binion. For that, I have pity on you. This magnificent human being was everything that I could hope to be, a womanizing, drug-addicted, millionaire casino manager. He was that guy but better than you could ever imagine. He ran the famous Binion’s Horseshoe Casino, home to the World Championship of Poker. He was smart as shit, well read in history and literature, and could compute incredibly difficult odds in his head. Binion also had a habit of pulling his pistol out and pointing at people as a “sign of affection.” But his three great loves were strippers, black-tar heroin, and his six tons of silver bullion. Strippers and silver are understandable but black-tar heroin? That’s right, he didn’t have enough time for your pussy ass drugs or even your high quality opiates. This man prefered the dirtiest, most addicting form of the strongest drug on the planet because if he was going to get high, he was going to be the highest motherfucker on Earth. When the Nevada Gaming Commission tried to stop Mr. Binion from being awesome and demanded that he pass a hair analysis drug test in order to retain his gaming license, Ted did what only a crazy, drugged out cowboy would do. He shaved every single hair off of his body and then showed up at the hearing. My man. After being barred from his own fucking casino, Teddy boy got real into the doing heroin and acting crazier than shit lifestyle. This included burying, digging up, and then re-burying tons of silver all over the Nevada desert, running around in his underwear shooting his pistol while inside his home, and counting, counting, and counting all of his money. When he finally overdosed and died, his own sister said it had to be murder because he had smoked so much heroin, his tolerance would be so high that there wasn’t enough dope in the state of Nevada to kill him. That is just fucking amazing and is a testament to kind of life Ted Binion lived. Teddy boy, I salute you.
(I should also mention that, like scales, Binion was afraid of needles. So he just smoked his heroin. Smoked it all day long.)

Mark Brandon “Chopper” Read
Chopper is the second most famous criminal in Australia behind Ned Kelly. Being a criminal in Australia is a tough niche to make a name for yourself but Chopper did it with style. Maybe not style, more like frothing, mad-dog, psychopathic intensity. When one of Chopper’s blokes got sentenced to a maximum security prison, Chopper kidnapped the judge who presided over his trial. He didnt do it so he could ask for his friend’s release for ransom, Chopper kidnapped the judge in order to be sent to that very same prison where his mate was incarcerated. And why the fuck would he do that? Cause Chopper Read does not give a fuck! This man, between the ages of 20 to 38, spent a total of thirteen months out of jail. He once shot a drug dealer in the stomach while he was robbing him, and then drove him to the hospital in order to stop the baby’s whining. After getting repeatedly stabbed in prison, Chopper got someone to cut his ears off. He did this for two reasons, 1) to win a bet, and 2) to be removed to the mental ward where his chances of being stabbed were a little lower. You think you are hard? Try hacking your ears off with a homemade shank. That’s pretty god damn hard. And that’s why I like him.

Blackbeard
Here was a man who would let no one define his destiny or cull his desires. He was the Supreme Chancellor of the “I Do What I Want Club.” Oh shit, that boat got some gold on it, lets take it and buy some booze with that shiny, awesome gold. Fuck that noise, says Blackbeard, let’s just wait and hijack the ship with all the booze. Better yet, let’s just blockade the port of Charleston and take whatever the fuck we want! That is why this man is known as the quintessential pirate. Blacky hit merchant ships, warships, and even medical supply boats. He wrappend hemp into his beard and lit it on fire before battle. Just imagine trying to handle yourself in a sword fight when your opponent’s head is smoking up like the devil himself! Blackbeard shot his own crew members just to keep them on their toes and to shake things up. Take it from me, nothing stirs up excitement like a random killing. Actually maybe a gangbang with a thirteen year old girl. Oh wait, Blackbeard is way ahead of me, pimping his young wife to all his mates, right before his eyes. Thanks captain, your wife’s pink and stinky was delicious, but what are we going to do now? I guess we could kill some people… God dammit I wish I was a pirate, but I wouldn’t want to be on the Queen Anne’s Revenge, that Blackbeard guy is just too hardcore. And that’s just the right amount of hardcore.

So there you guys have it. These three men have the qualities that admire and and strive to emulate. And while you may think that I am destined to hell, just know this. When I arrive, Satan is going to give me a solid chest-bump and scream out, “Now the party’s fucking started!”

I Love Marines

Saturday, May 16th, 2009

And America…

Mexico, the Place Where Fun (and Many Other Things) Go to Die

Thursday, May 14th, 2009

Greetings friends, I’m here to talk about a very serious issue that affects all of us. In fact, if we don’t work together and solve this problem, it could lead to the destruction of our planet and all of the cool shit I own. I’m talking about Mexico, specifically the little, smelly people who live there, Mexicans. Before I go any further, I present exhibit A.

Other than laugh hysterically this video also makes me think about the poor, poor police officers who have to round up these individuals. Honestly, last time I saw anything like this, I was sitting in a big top, eating candy, and sitting in the lap of my new, fun uncle. Where is all the clown make-up? What is it about motor-vehicle laws that cause mexicans such disbelief? Is there no word in the Spanish language for “maximum occupancy” or “blood-alcohol limit?” Seriously, if it wasn’t for the drunk-driving, no insurance-having, stop sign-ignoring mexican’ts, us white people could drive in peace and inebriation. But Noooooo…..

Exhibit B.

CNN article about Marijuana

So ex-Mexican president Fox, (he wasn’t murdered?) is saying the marijuana should be de-criminalized. Great, I’m all for it Mexico. But what I’m against is the Mexican government acting like it has the power the legalize something. First, it has to be deemed illegal by a government. Second, that government cannot be run by Mexicans. You can’t control the drugs in your country because you can’t control your country. Thousands of people die by the hands of drug dealers every year in Mexico and no one cares because they are all mexicans. But as soon as one flu outbreak looks like it could spread to white people, the whole world goes nuts. I’m serious, Mexico, just go away. Give the rest of us a break. Please? You can have George Lopez and Carlos Mencia back, just give North America some dignity.

Sincerely,
scales

Things You Should Never Tell Your Boss

Saturday, May 9th, 2009

No matter who your boss is, I guarantee HE will never want to hear, “Cause I’m too god-damn horny to do it, that’s why!” or “I swear on everything holy, this place is going to burn!” I’m here to explain why your first thought is always better left unsaid.

HateYourBoss

1) His Family
Most people in power have been able to put their sexual deviance on hold long enough to start a family with a wife and some kids. It is better to only discuss his family in positive terms with no mention of erotic proclivities or use of profanity.
Examples:
“How’s your cunt and the runts?”
“I bet your wife’s snatch tastes like a delicious peach-fish.”
*you pick up a picture of his family* You: “Is that your daughter?” Boss: “That’s my son.” You: “I’d still hit it.”
“That’s where I recognize your wife, she was is in the April 2003 Hustler! Goddamn I love Beaver Hunt!”

2) Your Job Satisfaction
There will always be some loyalty between the boss and the company that puts food on his table. You shouldn’t test those boundaries by sharing your thoughts of the company.
Examples
“I bet Satan’s minions have better job satisfaction than everyone at this place.”
“I would rather be a victim of a prison gang-rape than have to work for this soul-less shit hole any longer.”
“Your only hope is that I murder myself and my family like the bumfucks in Florida and Alabama instead of coming after you.”

3) His Intelligence
Many men who are in charge of others usually feel that is due to their leadership abilities and intelligence. To question this is to question their place in life.
Examples:
“Why can’t the economy just finish off what your incompetence started!”
“I don’t think you could be retarded and look normal. Then I started working for you. You’re retarded, but only slightly ugly.”
“Your intelligence is elementary. And you have a tiny dick.”

4) His Sexual Identity
I don’t really know why this is off limits but it always seems to get me in trouble.
Examples:
“Two men laughing and giggling, washing each other with a lavender-scented body wash in a bathtub while drinking champagne and feeding each other strawberries, Celine Dion sings in the background and they are surrounded with juniper-smelling candles; you are a thousand times more homo than that.”
“You don’t have to act different around me, I have a ton of faggy friends.”
“Silly faggot, twinks are for kids.”

Why I Hate You, By Geographic Region

Tuesday, April 28th, 2009

Good morrow fine gentlemen and you nasty cunts. It’s been a while since I last posted due to the glorious weather, under 13 girls soccer, and a disabling cocaine addiction. Have to give credit to Champagne on this one though. We were in a deep, philosophical discussion about what kind of soup a fetus would look best in, when he just looked at me and said, “I think I’m going to write about how I hate everyone. And definitely a chunky, zucchini-tomato for the soup. If you are going to eat a fetus, might as well make it look like a miscarriage.” And because Mr. Velvet has yet to explain it to you, let me. This is why I hate you:

USRegions

New Englanders
Easy call. I hate you because of your accents, fondness of violent behavior, and your rampant liberalism. None of you can hold your liquor. You take three drinks, start screaming about how sweet the fucking Pats are, and then you start fights with a large number of people. Of course, you lose. But that’s not it, it’s the unexplainable strive of toughness that I’ll never understand. Especially since Massachusetts allows gay marriage, yeah… You’re not hard. Oh and before I forget. You sound like a child who learned English from a mongrel. Just today I overheard a lady from Boston say, “I sawr it in yestaday’s noosepaper.” Where are your elementary schools located, on a fishing boat? Jesus Christ, I wanted to roll up a magazine and whack her on the nose but thought better of it… Because I’m a good guy.

Yankees
I bet you never heard this one before, you are all assholes. Every last one of you is a pompous, obnoxious jackass who cannot get over how goddamn amazing New York, New Jersey, or Connecticutt is. Did I say amazing, because I meant “expensive.” Is that all you people talk about, how much money everything costs or really just money in general? Talk about the tri-state of poor parenting and terrible social skills. I’m sorry that I was raised not to talk about money because it was *ahem* “common.” Even the assholes who recognize that they are assholes and try to be funny with it end up with a tiring shtick of playing Gordon Gecko and Patrick Bateman’s rape baby. And the Italians… Too easy and quite frankly, not worth the weak sperm that your dad jacked off into your mom’s gash.

Mid-Atlantic People
I hate you because you are nothing but a buffer between assholes and hillbilly, redneck fucks. You offer nothing to the world. “Yo shit’s so mild, it’s mayonaise.”

Hillbilly, Redneck Fucks (South)
You people disgust me. Once, just once, take an interest in something that doesn’t come on tv. There is more to life than laying on a couch, birthing ugly children, praying to a non-existant god, and waiting around for your workman’s comp check. Honestly, does anyone actually work in the south or do they show up on the first day, slip, and take nine months off to recuperate? Don’t even get me started on your lack of personal hygeine or general self-awareness. You all look gross, smell worse, and speak a foreign language barely similar to English. I almost wish the south had won the Civil War just so my tax dollars wouldn’t be going directly to your local KFC so you can feed your 8 illegitimate children. “War of Northern Agression?” More like “That Time You Inbred Motherfucks Started Shit, And Got Your Asses Beat War.” You know what separates a Southerner and a Mexican? Just a line on a map.

Hillbilly Redneck Fucks (Midwest)
What the fuck happened to you. As soon as meth popped on the scene, you have absolutely lost it. Nothing but idiot Jesus freaks, tweekers, and of course, fatties. I don’t see how one person can have both a meth and a weight problem and yet the entire Midwest is both morbidly obese and smoking crystal meth. I don’t get it, did Burger King start slinging in the homemade drug game? Are they deep frying sudafed into the chicken fries? I would hate life too if I lived that far away from the ocean. I mean, did your forefathers start traveling out west and just say, “Fuck it. Dudes, we’re gonna settle out here in the middle of nowhere, where there’s nothing to do, it’s freezing all the time, and we only brought hideous women with us.” Someone gets this part of country some cocaine, strobe lights, and slutty t-shirts to give away to women. You’ll be surprised how much fun you’ll have.

Texans
Don’t mess with Texas? Why, because it’s retarded? Your state is nothing but North Mexico with more gun-nuts and religious fanatics. How am I supposed to take you seriously if you are dumb enough to elect a carpetbagging, Connecticutt Yankee as your governor. Twice. If Mexico ever offered me a deal where they would forcibly take back all the illegal immigrants in exchange for Texas, I would say, “Si, but only on the condition that you also take Oklahoma.”

West Coast Pussies
You are the worst. Instead of smoking weed all the time, go out and get in a fight once in a while. It might do you some good. Anything that will curtail your smugginess is a good step in the right direction. I know that you were told that you were special and should feel good about yourself your whole life, but you’re not and you shouldn’t. In fact, all that hippy, self-esteem bullshit has warped everyone’s mind and now no one can take you seriously. You’re not smarter than anyone, and I mean anyone. I’d rather listen to the political thoughts of Jethro, the two-fingered beekeeper from Jomesville, Georgia, than hear your thoughts about the defensive strengths of a diplomatic foreign policy. At least he doesn’t pretend to know what he’s babbling about, (because he’s drunk) while you will make up anything, declare you read it in the New York Times, and then spout bullshit about how much more intelligent the west coast is to the rest of the country. But if you were smarter, you would live on the east coast, closer to Europe, and far, far away from the nasty mud slides and dreadful wild fires. If you were as smart as me, you would live inside your mother’s hairy hatcher wound. It’s roomy, has a nice view of exotic vegetation, and is rent free.

Steven Soderbergh, I Salute You!

Friday, April 17th, 2009

Director Steven Soderbergh (Traffic, Ocean’s 11, 12, 13) has recently cast porn starlet Sasha Grey as the lead in his new project, “The Girlfriend Experience.” There is only one thing to say, “Nice…”

SashaGrey

Take it from me, I’ve paid for the “girlfriend experience,” from a sex worker and it set me back a month’s pay and left my genitals a very peculiar color. Hopefully this will start a trend of hardcore, filth peddlers taking jobs from the type of hookers who keep their clothes on. (I’m looking right at you, Jessica Alba) And in case you were wondering, my favorite pornstar in a dramatic role is Kobe Tai in “Very Bad Things.” She plays a whore who gets killed by Jeremy Piven. Art imitating life, or art imitating last weekend?