It’s obvious that New York has always trumped New Jersey in their bitter rivalry for popularity. Although, in the battle for who’s scummier, smellier, and who has the better strip clubs, it’s usually a pretty close match up. A recent trip to NYC granted me the opportunity to hereby relinquish New Jersey’s contention in this silly grudge once and for all. WE SUBMIT!!!
I went to a bar in Manhattan where I took the risk of using the men’s room. As my tinkle started to trickle down into the urinal, I noticed a familiar title emblazoned on the brownish yellow urinal screen. I was actually paying attention to the urinal screen, so I figured I HAD to be drunk. But I wasn’t and the urinal screen said VAN WILDER! Van Wilder is one of my favorite movies and I doubted this promotional item was from the original Van Wilder, and my deduction was correct. After a close examination (yes folks, I DID make a closer examination…I may have actually made out with the bacteria, fly infested urinal, but I proved I was right)
The ribbon that used to be underneath the title VAN WILDER has worn off. It used to say The Rise of Taj. Regardless, according to IMDB The Rise of Taj went straight to DVD and was released for a short time theatrically on December 1st, 2006 and the DVD went on sale on March 27th, 2007. If my calculations are correct, promotional items for The Rise of Taj were probably put out at least a month ahead of time. I wonder how much longer they’ll leave this sickeningly old thing in there? I always knew NYC bathrooms were disgusting, but keeping that in the urinal for so long has to be violating some sort of health code.
I bet they have no idea that there’s some guy blogging about their urinal screen. Haha…it’s the little things. Secretly writing about their lack of changing their urinal screen really gives me the jollies for some reason. Probably cause I’m a sick fuck.
Perhaps they’re leaving the screen in there for the novelty factor, like an in-joke in a movie? Though the only people who are getting a little “rise” out of it are the people like me who appreciate obscure pop culture references that would’ve otherwise been lost to the ages. Or they’re just trying to be delightfully tacky. Something tells me that the actual DVD of The Rise of Taj will soon be worth as much as this 2-year old promotional urinal screen. I can see it making the ridiculously huge $5 bargain bins at Wal-Mart! Unless the bar owner can prove Justin Timberlake once pissed on it, I’m pretty sure it’s time to retire the Taj screen. DING, DING, DING!! Can we get Michael Buffer over here? HERE IS YOUR WINNER AND NEW INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPION OF SCUZZ: NEW YORK CITY!!!
In the spirit of not letting this site become a candy review blog, I’d like to tell you that I don’t have much faith in the new candy that’s getting released after eating these new atrocious Chocolate Mix Skittles. I would rather have my face dragged across the blacktop of the New Jersey Turnpike while my feet are tied to the back of a dump truck carrying horse manure than eat these horrid shit pellets.
Many of you had big plans for Memorial Day weekend. I know alot of you were getting obliterated, barbecuing, and socializing. My weekend didn’t involve any of that but I’ll run down some of the high points for you.
I’ve been waiting in great anticipation for Thursday at 8:00 pm to go to see Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End. I was so excited for it that I had my advance tickets on Tuesday! I headed over to the AMC theater in New Brunswick without even eating dinner. I was too pumped. I could care less about bad reviews or box office take, this movie was awesome. Some say it’s too long or too confusing but if you’re a fan of the series and you love the characters then you will be treated to an exciting, epic adventure.
Saturday I had a beer with a friend at Hooters of Union, N.J. and then watched the Spurs game.
Sunday was a trip down to Atlantic City to see Gwen Stefani at the Borgata. Just as we were approaching the end of the A.C expressway there was a 10-car accident that was blocking all of the lanes. I wasn’t about to sit and wait three hours for the cops and the ambulances to come and get it squared away. Some of the crafty drivers who were stopped in traffic realized that they could creep through a tight spot on the right shoulder and pass through the mess. Only five or six cars were brave enough to sneak through and I was one of them. Shit, Gwen Stefani was only a mile away!
I was hungry as hell and I knew that they opened a Fatbuger at the downstairs food court at the Borgata. I never tasted a Fatbuger before and I was curious to see what all the hype was about. Eve since I was 6 years old I wondered what the Beastie Boys were referring to in their song “The New Style,” and now I know. I ordered the original Fatburger (w/no onions) with Fries and a Coke which is the way a burger should be served! It was definitely a “tasty burger” as Jules said in Pulp Fiction but it wasn’t too different than a burger from Johnny Rockets. It was definitely enjoyable though.
Before heading to the event center for the show I made a stop at one of the Borgata’s luxurious bathrooms. If you ever have to take a trip to the bathroom and you are like me and you hate shitting in a public restroom – the BORGATA is the place to do it. The best part is that there are literally 30 urinals and like 20 stalls. This isn’t normal by any means. With the amount of bathrooms in the place I don’t think any one bathroom would ever be filled to the max. That means a helluva lot of people need to shit at the same time, that would be uncanny. This is a bathroom sent from Heaven. This is most likely the way the public restrooms are up there after you enter the gates and you have to pee really bad you make a right and there you are at the Borgata bathroom. Who would’ve thunk that a bathroom in New Jersey would be so awesome!
I spent some time at the TOP GUN SLOT MACHINE! While this may not be as cool as the Star Wars slots it’s a very close second. The seat your in vibrates and makes noise while the F-14 does a fly-by onscreen. The bonus game is pretty cool because it lets you attempt to fly into the
bonus number you would like. The only downside is that it plays a cheesy cover version of “Danger Zone” instead of the original by Kenny Loggins.
Gwen Stefani put on a fantastic show as usual. The wait time and standing through the horrid Lady Sovereign was tough but I made it through.
I’m no stranger to bathroom humor. Nor am I a stranger to humor involving actual bathrooms. Like you, I’m pretty familiar with being in a bathroom. We spend so much time relieving ourselves during our lifetime that most of us are bound to come out feeling refreshed and are inclined to tell some great stories about what happened. So far, in my life I’ve spent about 2,056 hours in the can. I’m not sure if that’s including Portsans, Johnny on the Spots, and random places like Grocery Store parking lots, but it’s probably a pretty accurate count. (# comes Courtesy of The Toilet Calculator) Being the creator and proprietor of the delicious, refreshing, FĒC-ALE, (the country’s leading brown ale) I feel I’m qualified to break some new ground in Scatology.
I hereby DEMAND equality when it comes to men’s and women’s bathrooms! Women need to realize that their bathrooms are usually a much higher quality than your average men’s room. When I was a kid I was out at a restaurant with my family and for the first time I realized that men were gypped. Women’s bathroom’s are more like a spa and feature ornate décor, couches, lots of velvet, etc. Men’s bathrooms have urinals and toilets. One thing that ladies bathrooms lack, for the most part, is the intense stench.
A guys trip to the bathroom becomes a challenge to see how long he can hold his breath. Believe me, we whip it out and unleash as fast as humanly possible while cutting off all oxygen to the brain in attempts to save ourselves from instant odor annihilation. I’m not the culprit here because I won’t go take a shit in a public place unless it is a complete emergency. Let’s face it, who is getting all comfy and taking a huge dump in the bathroom of a Target shopping center? Not I! I reserve this offense for a place that I can be completely relaxed, either my home, or whenever I’m in a Tibetan monastery. To blame are the guys that are so proud of their shits that they don’t care if they violate moral codes of decency by smelling up an entire 10 stall bathroom.
Women have had a long, challenging journey to arrive at the point they’re at now. They’ve gained the right to vote and they have demanded opportunity for themselves in politics and the workplace. One thing that they are definitely ungrateful for: Their bathrooms. Women need to appreciate what wondrous, mystical, Holy lands their bathrooms really are. I’ve never spoke to a girl who raved about the ladies room that they just peed in. Why? Because they are so used to it. They take it for granted that they can actually “rest” on a couch in their restroom. Men do not have this luxury. We might as well use the public sewers or potholes in the street to do our #2’s. Everyone wants a haven to desecrate and I DEMAND that everyone should have that luxury!
First- My word of the week: JALOPY
You know that some car company is gonna come out with one. Some sarcastic car company will
use it in their “too clever for words” advertising scheme. I could see a company using against another. Why go out and buy the ’06 Buick Jalopy when you can afford a trendy new Infinity XG88TK421 special edition model that starts only at around $147,000. Jalopy is a cool mf’n word.
What a resounding response frome the G-String Blog!
Not only were those responses plenty but great in substance. It makes a man proud! I’m realizing that many girls I’ve asked actually have them and wear them alot. I guess some of the girls that I have been in contact with just didn’t seem to wear them and many said they were uncomfortable/annoying. I still think it’s open to debate.
A week or two ago I was about to get my clothes on for work. I put my pants on and realized that the button above the zipper was gone. This is an instance where I was in a state of total disbelief. These few moments were full of worry, anger, and skepticism. It’s funny how for those few seconds my mind was saying “This can’t possibly happen.” I was focusing more on the fact that a button has never came off any pair of pants that I’ve owned EVER. So I figured the chances of this happening were slim. I was wrong. My mind was in shock as to why nature would do something this cruel to me as I was about to leave for work. I was unprepared for an event of such diabolical proportions. What if I didn’t have another pair of pants on hand? What if I had a pair and they weren’t cleaned? I’d be up the creek. I would need to go to the pants store. Honestly, how many times have you slipped into your old ratty jeans that you’ve had for a million years only to notice that the button was missing? That never happens. I have a better chance of being sprayed by a skunk while jogging in a lime green spandex jumpsuit and listening to “Escape (The Pina Colada Song)” by Rupert Holmes on my Ipod. That shit never comes up on shuffle mode.
—-I forgot to mention this. I figured I’d throw it in like a DVD special feature. Christmas morning I was getting gifts out of my car in my girlfriend’s driveway and after I pulled a bag out and a few packages I turned my head for a second and heard SPLAT! I looked back at my car and there was HUGE dumping of bird shit on my car window. I have never been so close to a bird shitting site ever. It always seems so distant. I was so close to being shit on by a bird. This bird must have been to China Buffet before he pinched that one out. My God. Thankfully it didn’t get on me or I would cry like a little girl and then throw myself in the creek and roll around until I drowned myself. That is another thing – how come almost everyone I know has been shit on by a bird? Guys and girls that I’ve spoken to claim that it’s happened to them. WTF? I’m not saying I want to join the bird shittees club or anything but I do feel that perhaps what they say is right. “IT’S GOOD LUCK.” How many times have I heard that? Is that just them rationalizing their horribly gross experience? Who knows. All I know is that I’m going to the bathroom to vomit right now. No no…I’ll hold it in and then when I see a bird outside I’ll blow my chunks all over it. How would they like it? Dumb birds.