It's the end of the Year as We Know It (part 2) 2010 edition!

Okay, as promised, here we are at part two of the greatest and most definitive list ever compiled with regards to 2010. I’m not gonna waste your time with an intro, as I know you’re all slathering at the bit like a bunch of horny horses with rabies looking at a horse-pussy-shaped salt lick, so here goes:

Best gay dance hit that sucks but with a little tweaking would be an awesome rock song- Raise Your Glass by Pink.

Okay, this song is so painfully lame that it almost causes me to double over. You know how the government has developed like, super measles and extra deadly ebola, or how because of our obsession with antibiotics, gonorrhea can kill you now? Um…no. Not quite the right analogy…how bout this: in food labs, scientists develop the essence of flavors, they distill it down to just a liquid that they can drop on something and make it taste and smell exactly like something else. This is a common practice for fast food places that serve you plastic food in order to make it taste like real food. In Schlosser’s super awesome (highly sensationalist) muckraking masterpiece “Fast Food Nation” he talks about this and there’s one particularly memorable passage where he mentions that the essence of green pepper is so strong that a single drop will completely flavor six or so Olympic pools worth of water. That’s what this Pink song is like, but instead of green pepper flavor, it’s lame dorkiness. It’s the most concentrated, distilled, essence of lame that’s ever been turned into soundwaves. Ever.

It’s pointless to even examine any one line because every single sentence and phrase in the song is so cringe inducingly horrendous that to isolate any one is to deny the almost sublime shittiness of all the rest of the lyrics. The chorus, however, maybe actually deserves special notice, because unlike the rest of the song, which is simply mindbendingly wack adolescent wordplay with that highly annoying ‘sass’ that has become Pink’s trademark, the chorus is literally BEGGING us, the audience, to choose this song as our anthem. It says ‘c’mon and raise your glass’ but it may as well be saying “please! Pretty please raise your glass and be partying and sing along and love this song and by extension, me! PLEASE!!!!”

And folks, that sucks in a way that shit like “if you’re too school for cool” just can’t even compete with, no matter how fucking stupid it is.

BUT!!!!!! And this is significant: The melodies in that song are fucking AWESOME. The way the verse builds, the way it coils up before the chorus, the all important third line of the chorus melody alteration, the sparkling, beautiful notes in the bridge that decays to a single a cappella line, this shit is good. It leaves me with one conclusion: Namely, that someone who really knows how to write songs wrote all the music and melodies and then Pink came in and cavemanned the words. What’s the end result? Something that sucks but that you don’t turn off. Something that you want to hum along with, because singing along with it forces you to articulate things too stupid to ever come out of your mouth.
So, here’s what I’m gonna do: I’m gonna take that dumb song’s melodies and make it into a cool song. Or maybe I won’t. Maybe you should. It’s SO close to being a great song, but as it stands now, it makes me want to beat up nerds, not drink. And that’s saying something, as I’m a heavy drinking nerd.

Best Website- Bad Sandwich Chronicles
For the third year in a row, this mustard and bloody diarrhea flavored interweb page has run away with this highly esteemed and important honor. You need dick jokes? Introspection? A long rambling near-nonsensical essay about a completely irrelevant pop song? Well, BSC is your place. Somebody should really give the genius who writes that website some money and a big, fancy contract to write a book, or spruce up their dumb writing. That’s what someone should do, all right.

Best Blog- Guess Her Muff
In this day and age, you can find almost anything on the internet. Fuck, someone just tweeted me a link to a fucking forum where people go on road trips with their fuck dolls and post photos of their fuck dolls (for example) lounging at the pool with some other wealthy masturbator’s fuck dolls. So there you go. There’s nothing left. Officially.
However, in the midsts of this cyber hellscape of depravity, there’s a shiny beacon, a place where the simple pleasures of seeing a woman clothed, and then seeing her pussy are highlighted. They aren’t the fanciest place on the internet. They’re doing something very simple and they’re doing a hell of a job. Think of it as the In N Out Burger of internet porn.

Best place to send pictures of your tits/beaver/balls-Bad Sandwich Chronicles
Come on. Did this even need to be said? Have I EVER betrayed any of your trust and posted the pics of your clams/tits/dicks that I get? Of course not. That would be gauche. So, so very gauche. So. Very.

Best drug- Alcohol
(to the tune of ‘The facts of Life’ theme song) It makes you sweat, it makes you fart it tears your fam-i-ly apart, it’s alcohol, and you drank it all. Your liver dies your nose explodes you get sores on your ass and choad it’s alcohol, you woke up in the hall. Cuz the world never seems to be li-vin up to your dreams suddenly you’re drinking bleach and no one’s gonna tell you what to do! Doo-oo-oo-oo-oo.

Best Movie- Um…did Avatar come out this year? No? Fuck. Well…I didn’t see any movies this year except for pornography, but that Lily Labeau seems like a nice girl. How bout something with her in it?

Year end list of the year (highly myopic. The following little essay is for true, die hard regular readers only)- Now, this was a close one, and almost always, Bad Sandwich Chronicles wins this one, but this year things are a little different. As you can see, this isn’t “Best” of the year this time. It’s just the list ‘of the year’, much in the same way Time does the person of the year and it’s been Hitler, and it’s been Mark Zuckerberg (a billionaire jew who spins the loom that weaves the fabric of society together to a degree that you’ve gotta imagine it would make Hitler pretty nervous if he was still alive [and, well…good. Because {and this is a highly controversial statement, folks} fuck Hitler. I mean, am I right? Woo. That felt good.]) and it doesn’t mean that they’re endorsing anyone or anything. It’s just a commentary on the person that seems to have stirred up the most shit for the year. Well, this year the year end list of the year goes to the guy in the sock drawer who did the list of “top Faggots” or whatever the fuck it was just before Christmas.

That’s right.

And here’s why: Firstly, there’s nothing quite so great as a community based awards ceremony. Sure, this one was mean spirited as shit, but hey, you know what? The world is mean spirited and the interworld (my own, soon to be trademarked term for the cybersphere [ooh, I’m doing that one too…] is even meaner than the real world, which is saying a lot. Now, this guy (who’s funny, but mean, and [in what I think may be a stroke of genius, but which is vastly more probably just a showcase of the weakness of his source material when spread too thin,] he’s wildly uneven in terms of quality output; something he seems to be especially unforgiving about with regards to some of the other posters) put out a list where he called a bunch of the people who post in the comment section here ‘faggots’ and gave each person a brief description regarding why they are such faggots.
He (and this guy has to be a he) then gave an ‘honorable mention’ to another group of people, who he purports to like but also mostly insulted, which, well…that’s pretty amusing. He left out my personal favorite poster (the black professor that loves little Richard) but otherwise, he did a decent job of touching on most of the regular posters down in the sock drawer and well, I appreciated the effort to create some sort of compendium of the community’s populace, even if it was kind of mean. I figured, hell, the people that read this shit are tough sumbitches. They can take a little ribbing from an anonymous internet dildo, can they not?

Sadly, the answer seems to be no. Since our friend, who’s handle suggests that he’s the ghost of the dead brother of the guy that played the one young alien that’s actually old, but who was also in inception (which uh…there’s that virtual visor guy who also seems inspired by Inception. Is there something to that? Who cares?) posted his list, the people who once posted here have vanished, scattered into the shadows like mice, or non-cannibals in a post apocalyptic Cormac McCarthy situation. There’s been no retaliation (an admittedly stupid idea, as internet fighting is like two people with Down Syndrome fighting [regardless of which side wins, both are retarded]), no sense of coming together, no witty response. Nothing. At. All. Just an immediate ‘hey! That’s mean’ and then silence. Dusty, tumbleweed ridden silence. It’s amazing. Not great. Not terrible. Simply and literally amazing.

Have you ever heard the expression “If we stop doing (blank) the terrorists win”? Probably not. It’s not really something that people just bandy about in America to justify doing any shitty, selfish thing that they want to do nowadays.
Anyway, here’s what it means: When someone’s a dick to you, and you let it change your life, you become the very definition of what they think you are: weak, cowardly and willing to sacrifice doing the things you want to do as so not to be further tormented. That, in essence is when people who torment you go “wow. That worked. They WERE soft, ineffectual pussies hiding behind their precious soft, easy lifestyles. This tormenting people shit is all right!” That’s quite a precedent to set. Is that what you want, sock drawer? Is it?

So yeah. He wins. He wins the award for list of the year. Good on ya, ghost of the brother of the guy who played the alien in the show with Jon Lithgow (highly talented, criminally underrated). You seem to have easily and handily vanquished your foes.

But for the record, I like those kids.

Okay, that’s it, folks. Come back next year for more crazy lists. Oh, and tomorrow we’ll get back to the regular program where I pretend to be outraged about something and then call someone a wiener-flosser or something.

xoxo

It's the end of the year as we know it 2009 edition!!!!

Good morning assholes, dongs, perverts, sluts, prudes, nuns, bankers, wife, mom, dad, Ryan, Toby, and all the rest of you various friends, family and pathetic turds that just sit there in front of your dumb laptop or iphone, waiting for your balls to refill, refreshing this page between trips to sixdicksatonce.com, welcome to the BSC year end list for 2009. It’s been a hellish year, people. Make no mistake. There’s no prize in Valhalla or beyond that could possibly make me ever want to re-experience the fiery ass-juice storm that was 2009. But, to be fair, in the words of the great William Murderface, “I’d rather die than live forever,” so fuck it. Let’s roll. First category:

Best casual pastime: Now, this wasn’t easy. There were lots of fun ways to while away the hours that really came into their own in this last year of the aughts, but none so succinctly embodied the feeling of 2009 like scrapbooking the disembodied vaginas that you remove from the hookers you kill. When I saw Sean Hannity and his mom doing this at his boyhood home in Franklin Square on his Christmas special, I said to myself, “wow, now THAT’S a trend that really took off in 2009.” I mean, who’d a thought it? Hannity? Pretty hip for a neo con, gotta say.
What? Look, in my public speaking class they told me you have to have an opener that’s gonna get the audience’s attention. Sheesh. Relax a little. Go have a drink, put some partitioned vulvas under some cellophane like the rest of us and come back when you’re mature enough to handle the subject at hand.

Anyway…

Up next, best infant Car Seat:
I’m gonna have to go with the Ricarro, simply because it’s got a uh…ease of, um, adjusting, and the range is, uh…and don’t forget the standards of excellence and safety set up by the…ah, fuck it. This is the only car seat that I’ve seen this year. My kid’s not dead, so it must be pretty sweet. New parents, take note.

Okay, best place to hide a cigar:
For the third year in a row ‘your ass’ wins again. Not only is it a highly pneumatic spot for a cigar to chill, but also, it’ll keep you from smoking cigars if you just scramble that ass cigar around with all the rest of your cigars, and hey, smoking kills. So there’s that. Funny story, my friend Eric and I once smoked a pair of Romeo y Julietta’s that his step mom had smuggled from cuba in her pussy. No joke.

Best excuse
I’ve got celiac disease! My mom died! I’ve got ADD! I’m chronically fat! My parents locked me in the basement for weeks at a time! Sure, there were lots of total bullshit excuses making their rounds in 2009, but in my world, none seemed to pop up more than the old tried and true “I’m pregnant.” Sheesh, who do you have to blow to get a blowjob and someone else to carry the new TV up the stairs around here? I mean, am I right?

Biggest personal regret:
This year I wrote and directed and starred in a movie. Now, I don’t regret that at all. I’m stoked to get it all done and up and running. However, why did I cast myself as the guy with the mustache? I’ve had this fucking mustache for almost six months now. No wonder my wife won’t look at me. First, a planned pregnancy and now a mustache? I’m more animal than man. Also, I’m kind of Italian, and I’m super sick of looking like the youngest Mario brother. Here’s to twenty ten, where my upper lip’s gonna be as hairless as toby Jeg’s dimpled chest all year long.

Best TV show:
Man vs Food. Finally, Americans have a nice, affable, clean cut guy to get behind in the great quest to completely perpetuate the stereotype that we’re wasteful, thoughtless pig-men who like nothing more than to ideologically shit onto the faces and souls of the millions of starving people in this world by sending some tubby choad around the world to try and stuff six pounds of pizza dough in his face for a free tee shirt. Also, Adam’s a funny dude and I really like watching the show, but hey, man. Competitive eating is like gay Christianity. Ideologically fucked, no matter how many rules you want to pretend aren’t there.

Best new snack:
Salmon in the can. I mix the shit with horseradish mustard and an onion and eat it and it’s healthy and delicious and if you eat that shit right after hitting the gym you’ll feel like you just got a shot of B12 into your nuts. Also, it’s revolting and you’d better make sure no one’s around or they’ll be disgusted by your stinky, stinky onion-fish can, but man, shit’s tasty and cheap. Hey, don’t you guys think it’s just so crazy that my old lady isn’t absolutely jumping all over my salmon/onion breath, mustache and filthy demeanor (I recently scratched my balls in my sleep, then, later, scratched my face. The smell of my hand caused me to wake up screaming in the night and had to go wash my face, balls and hand in abject terror, to the chagrin of my sleeping and now quite pregnant wife. I blame my friends Eric and Noelle, who we were staying with in Denver. They’re hippies and they use all that fake hippy soap that…you know what? New award:

Worst products
Hippy soaps:
Who the fuck came up with the idea that hippies had any authority at all to make products to clean things? Hippies are, by definition, stinky, filthy and dedicated to products and ideals that are slipshod and half assed at best (see peace, Ritchie havens, Volkswagen busses) and completely fucking terrible most of the time (Jefferson airplane, dream catchers, moveon.org) So, thanks Burt’s Bees, and Tom of Maine and Sally with her handsoap and all the rest of you, but after a week of using your products, I SMELL LIKE SHIT!!!!! So do all the people who use your products. Know why? Because the war’s over and the bums lost. Know why? Cuz you people can’t competently make anything but ice cream. That’s why.

Best Juggalo Based Event:
The tenth annual gathering of the Juggalos. Now, I wasn’t there, but I heard shit was absolutely POPPIN OFF, yo! There were titties, faygo, wrestling, hot dogs, campsites, titties, blowjobs, tons of rapes, fat people, face paint, pies, barbed wire, bad tattoos, titties, and even more fat guys. Congratulations Tenth annual Gathering of the Juggalos! You’re the definitive juggalo based event of 2009. Thank god.

Best completely meaningless phrase:
“There are two kinds of people in this world”
It seems like, with the rise of this manufactured outrage that has become so terribly popular in America this year, ever since every dumb dick taster got a blog or a tv show and decided to ‘tell it like it is’ and ‘not take it anymore’, these great, divisive statements have been all the rage. Well, let me let you all in on a little secret: This is what smart idiots say to impress dumber idiots. You can ALWAYS draw a line and notice that everyone falls on one side or the other. Want some examples? Here you go:
There are two kinds of people in this world, those who rape and murder little boys and then bury them in satanic patterns in their crawlspace and those who don’t.
Or
There are two kinds of people in this world, those who suck the dicks of seven random strangers just for the thrill of it, and those who don’t.
The funny thing is that you can use this with preferences too, like: there are two kinds of people, those who are pro cutting vaginas out of dead hookers and scrapbooking those selfsame vaginas, and those who are against it. This is effective because it DARES you to not be actively opposed, even though, come on, who’s opposed to 2009’s greatest pastime, am I right? Anyway, there’s even another way that this tricky little piece of oratorical magic works. It’s when it’s used with hot button issues: There are two types of people in this world, those who are for gay marriage, and those against it.
Well, there are ALSO all the people who don’t give a shit one way or the other, but guess what? They don’t give a shit, so they’re not gonna speak up and demand to be heard. It’s really a speaking and persuasion tool that epitomizes the level of intelligent discourse we’re having in this country. Now, there’s two kinds of people out there. Those who think that last statement is offensive, those who think it’s sadly true, and those who think it’s patriotic, AND those who are ready for the next category.

Best fecal matter disposal tool-
For the fifth straight year, the toilet wins again. Sorry Big Mac wrapper, couch cushions, and hole dug in the back yard, it was a valiant effort, but in the end, Thomas crapper’s little baby just managed to squeeze past ya.

Best spirit: Man, this year, I’ve been into vodka, and I got turned on to Tito’s when they got a free bottle delivered to my bar. This is far and away the best vodka I’ve ever tried. I drink vodka with club soda, and let me tell you, after one titos, I switched to Ketel just to have a little perspective, and Ketel tasted like fucking gas in comparison. Listen, the bottle design? Yeah, it’s shitty. It looks like something that you get in that old man/ rape bar over by the motel six, but trust me. that shit is GOOD. It’s clean, it’s even good neat. That’s traditionally IMPOSSIBLE for a vodka. Titos is distilled like six times or something. They’re taking real care in the creation of this product. I don’t have any affiliation with them, but man, they’re the last of the last, people doing something great because they know how to do it great without cutting corners or fucking around. AND, it’s not outrageously expensive. That’s cool. Uh, felching, Uh…barf. Uh…hardy har har. Okay, moving on.

Best Drug: Ritalin
Last year, this category went to adderal, but man, that shit’s too strong and clean. Want a viper? Want some money? Then suit up with some Ritalin. Just a couple of those little green pills in the beginning of the evening will make you a smooth talking limp dicked superman for the rest of your time at the bar. Added bonus: This shit’s prescribed to high school kids, who are super easy to beat the shit out of/coax with views of tits.

Most horrifying miscarriage of justice:
The death of sparks.
Man, oh man. What a tragedy. They took the mojo out of sparks. Yo, they didn’t fuck with Joose, did they? They didn’t fuck with Camo, they didn’t fuck with AM, they didn’t fuck with ANYTHING but sparks. Well, guess what? I’ve got a secret for you fuckers. You want a classic sparks but you don’t know what to do? Here’s the solution. Get a new, totally pussified sparks, and take a big swig, then dump a five hour energy in there. It’s sparks, baby. Yeah, sure. It’s not as easy, but hey, we need to get our Quaaludes from India now and you can’t even get a decent back alley abortion without heading down to mexico. All the best stuff is getting harder to come by, but it’s just making us smarter, folks. Let em try to break us. Am I right? Anyone? Bueller? Sheesh.

Hottest celeb:
Sean “puffy” combs- nobody is so utterly disgusting to me as this alien faced, revolting perfume doused foul breathed, open mouth, tongue out repulsazoid. Oh, what was the category? Oh. Never mind.

Hottest Celeb
Brendan Kelly-
Have you seen the dick and abs on this guy? You could root out your toilet and grate cheese respectively! Oh what’s that you say? He’s not actually famous? Well, uh…I dunno…benji madden? Um, Mateo? Fuck you guys. I like my answer. Who cares if he’s not famous. He’s a goddamn dreamsickle wrapped in a hot dicked dream and a forcefield of hyper-bonability and such.

Best Blog-
Once again, Bad Sandwich Chronicles narrowly beats out ishootporn.com for best blog. Never before has wit met the sloppy wetness of ballsacks slapping together idly with such timely and timeless zeal, such chutzpa, such a complete disregard for fact checking. Congratulations BSC! You’re the best, once again.

That’s all for now. Join us in the next couple of days for the BSC best of the decade!
Xoxoxoxo
Send nudes!