Making Eggs In The Shower

After seven failed attempts to sign in and make my inaugural administrative post, StuffyNose has arrived. Having allowed Scales and BallzD to introduce the blog’s drug of choice, it’s necessary to comment on the recent allegations regarding Vice President Biden’s daughter, Ashley, taking some phatties of chowzercaine to the face.

Listen, there is nothing wrong with calling a spade a spade, an immigrant a mexican or a jew a Christ Killer. Calling out a VP’s slutty, party-animal daughter for enjoying one of life’s few organic blessings (taking a gram up her ideally non-deviate septum), on tape being shopped for $250,000, is slightly over the top and borderline communist. I thought this was America. Our current and previous presidents have admittedly dated the white-lady out of sheer boredom, so don’t tell me that the children of their right-hand men can’t at enjoy the same.

Not that’s she’s particularly fat (she actually looks like she could get p3wned), but this brings a particularly traumatic (hot) memory to mind. Halloween senior year: house party, infinity booze, infinity sluts, infinity drugs. StuffyNose is all clear, both nostrils breathing at full stength. After drinking a dozen beers, watching BallzD tickle his favorite pledge’s asshole and heading to the bar, latenight dawned. Like Indiana Jones and the Raiders of The Last Ark, there was only one remaining thing to be conquered: the incredibly large 8-ball (woooh!), mocking from StuffyNose’s desk drawer. Returning to said house and unlocking the door, I’m confronted with the most disgusting (hot) scene imaginable: an easily 220 pound Winnie-the-Pooh costumed monster laying across StuffyNose’s bedroom floor in a pile of her own vomit. I chopped her up, ate her and took the drugs to the nasacaine.

Perhaps said story was nonsensical or irrelevant. If you think so, fuck you! Moral of the story – don’t hate the coke-head, hate he (or she) who attempts to ruin the party. In young Ashley Biden’s case, it’s the anti-awesome snitch seeking profit off a semi-hack-celebrity’s indulgence in her God-given right to get awesome. Don’t hate the player, hate the douche-bag attempting to salt the game.