So I thought I would share multiple ways you can ruin your Thanksgiving because I did some experimenting this year.  Of course, you will have to try these next year. 

Something may be labeled NSFW

-Call your father a "butt plug" during the pre-meal prayer
-Tell the cook that Chef Gordon Ramsay would kick them out of Hell's Kitchen for their culinary abortion and that Guy Fieri would enjoy the food because he is a dullard.
-Drink 10 beers in 10 minutes and let the fun begin and of course the beer has to be Schell's Lake Maid and with every bottle say "Normally I wouldn't eat (insert type of fish here) but for Miss (insert type of fish here) I'd make the exception.  You really need to go to the website to understand my lame attempt at humor.  Also you have to remember that I started that company's myspace site and refused to sell.  I am a moron. 
-Be a Lions fan so the meal will be more depressing
-Hit your brother-in-law in the face while playing a pick-up game of basketball
-Discuss how your daughter will be starting college and your granddaughter will be graduating from kindergarten this school year and you are only 30 years old.
-Become a militant NASCAR fan and demand that NASCAR be deemed a legitimate competitive sport
-Go shopping
-Tell everyone that you got a new job with TSA and grope yourself at the table and say that you are just practicing
-When you see a family member drinking Starbucks declare your hatred for the chain and say they are responsible for the collapse of the economy but laud their use of this song in their new commercials because Matt Pond PA really rocks.

-Two words: pro-wrestling reenactments
-Tell everyone that you are a "master baster"
-Let this be your family meal:

"Give us this day, our daily white bread."
-This is your meal:


I hope everyone had a Happy Thanksgiving or as some members of my family call it...Thanks-Taking.

These are some oldies but goodies.  I was going to write a poem I found while cleaning out my files but it was far too personal.  In the 30 minutes I was on Xanga yesterday I was offended...god I don't know if a return is in order then.  Oh well...enjoy comic books.

Pearl necklace...hahaha...even Archie is getting more than me.

Does The Thing have an orange thing?  Did you know that my nickname was the Fantastic Four?  It wasn't because there are four of me.

You can have all the super powers in the universe but it won't protect you from an STD, so remember kids...crazy Uncle Matt says, "Cover your stump before you hump."

I wish a broad would blow hard on me.  I said hard on.  HAHAHAHAHA!  This looks rather queer.  Or is it gay?  I am confused.

Nothing confusing about this one...Wow these comics keep getting more and more sexually charged!!!

Step back a little folks.  The Rifleman has a massive log.  It's a shock to me that he lets his son hold it like this.  Look at the eyes of the kid.  he can't believe what his father is making him do.

So this is the most graphic 1940s comic book cover I have seen.  Tattooing USA through the heart.  Gosh that is full of Christian love.  Also a racist remark and @#!$% to insinuate swearing.  Wow!  Way to go War Report! 

Hmmm I am wondering why Rainbow Boy isn't a modern day Gay Pride superhero

Captain Marvel...picking on the Japanese...you may remember a few comic posts back I had with a DC Comics WW2 slogan.  Theirs was "Slap the Japs"  Marvel was a little too slow on the trigger to pick up that clever catch phrase so this is second best.  I wonder what is the deal with his size.  I have seen other Captain MArvel covers and he appears to be normal size.  OH I GET IT!!!! Japanese people are small so he looks like a giant.  Clever...very clver. 

The grandaddy of them all.  Captain Marvel.  First off I am going to say that the sign on the beach pointing Germany bugs me.  I have been to plenty of beaches and there aren't signs on them point to places across the ocean.  Something else that bugs me...the cannon in Captain Marvels hands strikes me as phallic.  Also, look at Steamboat...yes Steamboat.  A 1940s comic book artist thought that is what black people looked like.  He reminds me of Goofy.  Maybe goofy is African America because he certainly isn't a dog.  I just can't believe they drew people like that.

I guess they didn't have spell check back then unless Tokio actually exists but I doubt it.  Once again picking on the dimunitive nature of the Asian males.  Gosh you have to love those teeth. 

Ok so here is some revisionist history for you.  Apparently the Nazis were a race of powder blue trolls and the general of the Allies was a Vulcan.  This comic looks like jingoistic propaganda.  I loved Professor Levorson. 

Have a great weekend.  I think if I am able to get out of bed I will be in a forest come Saturday morning shooting deer and trying to stay sober.

If a girl makes you wear a condom, you probably didn't need it, and if she doesn't make you wear one you probably should have worn two. Life is full of irony. And sex disease.  Isn't that cute?  Anyway I stumbled across this article while searching for dating websites where women are searching for overweight guys a couple of years ago.  No such luck in finding a website or someone interested in me however I found this article and it was uplifting.  I wish women would see me as me and not some fat guy who is ugly.  Give it a read.

 

Still, the fat guy is essentially a peaceful creature. War is for the thin. Fighting requires effort, and minimum effort is the mantra of the fat guy. Efficiency and economy of movement are the fat guy's greatest allies. The thin think nothing of bounding up four flights of stairs, running to catch a bus or invading a Caribbean nation, but fat guys plan their days around avoiding these very situations.

But they don't avoid dating. Dating is eating. Nearly every date centers around a meal, and fat guys are far and away the best dining companions. They are uninhibited eaters, they know all the best restaurants and they know how to cook. Therefore, fat guys are the best dates.

The thin choose restaurants based on ambience; fat guys choose restaurants because the food is good. The thin may know how to operate a grill (badly) and make breakfast (badly), but every fat guy intuitively knows how to truss a capon, bake a wedding cake and roast a whole hog.

The fat guy's love life is inextricably linked to his love of food. For the fat guy, food and sex are two points on a continuum. No fat guy would ever dream of making a move on a girl without first feeding her a nice meal -- it's just not done. And when you're out with a fat guy you don't have to worry about looking like a pig. You can eat whatever you want, because nothing makes a fat guy hornier than a girl who can devour a big steak (although fat guys also appreciate skinny girls because they represent leftovers). As an aside, fat guys can hold their liquor. This is a simple biological fact. Remember those charts they show you in driver's ed? How much you can drink is a direct function of how much you weigh.

And who better to bring home to mom than a fat guy? Mothers, especially immigrant mothers who speak little English and have yet to be co-opted by American neuroses, love men who can eat. They (correctly) equate eating prowess with intellect and potential for success.

The fat guy wages a stealthy seduction. The woman sees the fat guy as a confidant. She thinks the relationship is platonic. Eventually, she marries the fat guy. Sound familiar?

When it comes to sexual prowess, women in the know prefer fat guys because fat guys are better in bed. The thin and the fit like to demonstrate their manliness by getting on top and banging away, but no fat guy in his right mind would do the equivalent of 100 pushups when he has the opportunity to lie on his back. Plus, do you know what the odds are of a girl getting off in the missionary position? If I have to tell you, you're obviously not a fat guy. But do you know what the odds are of a girl getting off when she's on top? Pretty damn good. And with minimal effort (i.e., reach down and help out with your fingers), you can make that a virtual lock (if that doesn't work, it's her problem -- not yours). For every hard-bodied two-pump-chump out there, there's a fat guy ready to lie back and provide an erect instrument for as long as need be.

Fat guys are particularly well-suited to being passive sex partners for fit-and-trim athletic girls who have the stamina to ride all night. You've seen the couples; now you know why. If you want a man who will make the earth move, a fat guy is still your best candidate (see inertia and Newtonian physics, above). Remember when Chris Farley and Patrick Swayze had a dancing contest on "Saturday Night Live"? Yeah, you know what I'm talking about.

The best thing is that fat guys sincerely appreciate women who deign to sleep with them, because every fat guy harbors the deep-seated fear that he's unattractive. And really, what many women want (more so even than great sex) is to be appreciated. Fat guys are particularly appreciative of fellatio, because it's the ultimate in minimum-effort sex, even less strenuous than masturbation. And fat guys are themselves masters of oral sex, because their mouths are so agile and in such good shape from all that eating (and because all they think about is sex, food and maybe Seven of Nine on "Star Trek: Voyager").

There was a time in history when, to get respect, you had to be fat. It meant you were affluent. It meant you were healthy. Now it's all twisted around: You can never be too thin or too rich, they say. But while it's possible nowadays for anybody on food stamps to maintain an impressive body weight by eating potato chips and Entenmann's chocolate doughnuts, the fat-as-healthy stereotype is making a comeback -- at least in the gay community -- and it's only a matter of time before straight people catch on.

It's simple: As my friend David, they gayest guy I know, put it to me, "Everybody knows fat guys don't have AIDS. In the gay community, fat is in."

If I was stuck on a deserted island and could only take one movie with me what movie would that be?

Easy.

Boogie Nights.

This film has everything you could want in a movie: comedy, drama, action, sex, memorable characters, great music, great cinematography, great storyline, and wonderful writing.  Some might add a giant prosthetic penis but whatever floats your boat.

What more could you want from a movie?

(look closely, you can see me in that one)

So as some of you know I am a huge Alanis Morrissette fan...ok, maybe that is quite a stretch seeing I have only downloads of her material and haven't bothered buying anything she has produced.  Anyway I always had a problem with her song Ironic.  None of the scenarios that she sange about were ironic.  Obviously she never learned what the term irony meant in her Canadian public school system.  Well I found a web-article that made her song Ironic, ironic, but since I posted this almost four years ago I can't find where that article is now.

An old man turned ninety-eight. He won the lottery and died the next day... of chronic emphysema from inhalation of the latex particles scratched off decades' worth of lottery tickets.

A black fly in your Chardonnay... poured to celebrate the successful fumigation of your recently purchased vineyard in southern France.

A death row pardon two minutes too late... because the governor was too busy watching Dead Man Walking to grant clemency any earlier.

Rain on your wedding day... to Ra, the Egyptian sun-god.

A free ride when you've already paid... all of your money to the good-natured cab driver when you mistook him for a mugger.

The good advice that you just didn't take... after reading Norman Vincent Peale's The Power of Positive Thinking and resolving that the key to success is making your own decisions.

Mr. Play-it-Safe was afraid to fly. He packed his suitcase and kissed his kids goodbye. He waited his whole damn life to take that flight. And as the plane crashed down, he thought, Well isn't this nice... now I'll never make it to the National Association of Aviophobics conference in Reno, NV.

A traffic jam when you're already late... to receive an award from the Municipal Planning Board for reducing the city's automobile congestion 80 percent.

A no-smoking sign on your cigarette break... at the R.J. Reynolds Tobacco corporate offices in Winston-Salem, North Carolina.

Ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife... with which to kill your spouse for sleeping with the young soup chef who works at the Au Bon Pain.

Meeting the man of my dreams and then meeting his beautiful wife... who happens to be the psychiatrist I recently hired in hopes of improving my luck with the opposite sex.

Wow, the writer of this comic must have been a warhawk.  This is probably one of the more gruesome comic covers I have ever seen from the WW2 ear.  Just look at poor Jonesy with the smoking hole coming out of his helmet.  If this is the cover, I'd hate to see the inside. 

So this has a few things that struck my eye.  Obviously the first being the Ultra-man penchant for anal sex.  WTF!  How could that slip past the censors?  Secondly, they didn't know how to center back in the day.  Read the last line on the bottom of the cover.  Strip-for all American girls and boys.  Who's going to strip?  The hot dame swooning over Ultra-man?  My luck, it would be Ultra-Man doing the stripping.  He is just the character that would.

More war stories.  I have a few things with this cover as well.  First, the awkward stereotypical Japanese.  They look horrible.  The more I look at the Japanese guy staring out at me, the more I think he looks like Jerry Stiller.
Next, Bucky is an imbicle.  He has the black mask around his eyes.  Notice that he is throwing the old-fashioned bombs with the long detenation fuses on them.  I think by WW2 they got rid of those type of bombs.  I don't think they even used those in WW1.  Those bombs went out of vogue when Hitler came in with his tiny moustache.  I say this not knowing if I am historically accurate but I am trying to make an attempt at the humorous villian from the late 1800s with the curly moustache and when he was up to no good he would grab his moustache, curl it, and say, "n'yeah".  Finally if Bucky was dimwitted enough to throw the most ludicrus type of bomb available he also wasn't bright enough to realize he shouldn't throw it at point-blank range.  I just noticed something.  If you look in the bottom right corner you can see whom Bucky is rescuing.  It appears if he is saving a mintrel.  Maybe it is Amos and Andy.  Oh, I love stereotypes drawn out in comic form.

This looks so crappy I'll let you make your own jokes.  Seriously the Nazis must have been horrible shots if they can't hit the Black Terror.  I wonder if he is on George Bush's axis of evil.  I mean, he is a terrorist.

I just don't understand.  Who is blackhawk?  Do they realize taht the force of the cannon would send the tank into a horrible backwards thrust?  Why is the Nazi shooting at the bottom of the tank?  Did people actually think this is how WW2 was fought?  My brain hurts.

Good old Rex, the Wonder Dog.  A long time ago I posted a Rex cover in which he was saving a child from a tiger.  That cover was the most mundane of all the Rex covers.  This one I think is the most illogical.  Why did the Army decide to let a dog parachute?  Why did they give him a gun?  Can't you just see a group of scientists sitting around a table with military personnel all of them smoking cigarettes discussing the use of Rex in war.
General:  I just don't think it is wise to send a dog into combat by dropping it out of a plane.
Scientist:  Well, general, it is completely safe and by using Rex the Wonder Dog we will not suffer as many casualites
General:  Why do you say that, scientist?
Scientist:  I say that general, because we will give Rex the Wonder Dog a(long dramatic pause, takes drag of cigarette, exhales, stares at general over the top of his nerd glasses)...gun
General:  How will he be able to fire it?  He is a dog and doesn't have thumbs?
Scientist:  Well, general, he's Rex the Wonder Dog (Dramatic music)

Seriously that is how it went down.
I hate being away but I need to get healthy and work some stuff out.

Teacher: “Class, for show and tell today, Matt would like to tell you some of his jokes. Please give him your undivided attention.”
*class applauds*

Matt: “Thank you Ms. Whitehead. Or should I say, Ms. Doodoohead!
*laughter*

Matt: “Seriously though, it’s great to be here. This morning when I was eating my Alphabets cereal, I started making words. Yeah, you’ve all done it before, don’t be shy! *winks at Heather F.* Anywho, I was trying to spell out words with my cereal, and they were all coming out the same! I was confused and could not figure it out. Then I realized that I wasn’t eating Alphabets cereal…..they were Cheerios!
*laughter, Heather F. picks nose*

Matt: “They other day, my dog farted and it smelled like…..the cat!”
*laughter*

Matt: “Man, life is hard though. *smiles at Heather F.* I went to go take a Flintstones vitamin, and wouldn’t you know it, we were all out of orange! I looked at my mom and said, ‘Orange you going to buy me more vitamins!’ Then I farted on the dog’s fat head!”
*laughter, Heather F. eats booger*

Matt: “Anyone in the house a fan of Lincoln logs? *applause* Lincoln logs look like penises! You guys are gay!”
*laughter, Ms. Whitehead rushes to front of class*

Ms. Whitehead: “Well, thank you very much Matt, that was, interesting. You may take your seat now.”
*class applauds*

Matt: Thank you, everybody.  I'll be performing at recess for the next week.

I have opinions.  The first is that I am cooler than Liquid MDMA and K2 combined.  The second is that opinions are like assholes, everyone has one.  And finally I am an asshole.  Thanks to everyone for being Minnesota nice to me.  November 3rd, 2010 was the greatest day of my life.  It was the first day in my life that I ever started crying against my will for the sheer joy of how happy I was.  Once that happened I knew I wasn't going to be depressed again but it took watching a pro-wrestling show to know that I would be forever alone.  The next time I'm asked when was the last time you cried, which was when my mom's brain blew up by an aneursym, I can say it was November 3rd, 2010. I took a photo of myself when I cried my tears of joy and my camera exploded due to my sheer joy and ugliness so then I went to write on a piece of paper: "Life isn't about having a lot of fun and being really, really, really, cool; life is about making people happy.  Hi, my name is Matt and I make people happy."  Then I gave that piece of paper to someone that I thought was special but they were just Minnesota nice or in other words an asshole like myself..  I threw my cellphone away and planned a trip to Maine but I didn't make it there.  PCP saved my life!
                Love,
                      Matt
P.S.  The word "love" doesn't necessarily mean shit to me.
PPS or PSS I like PSS better...My mom may or may not be dead and the Wisconsin Badgers' defense feeds on opponents fears of inadequecy and I have a small weiner.

My list of superficial contingencies I will not date a girl:
If she does not wear glasses.(not including sunglasses)
If she smokes crack.
If she's to dumb.(low intelligence)
If she's to air-headed.(low wisdom)
If she's too introverted.
If her only hobby is "shopping"
If she's too unmotivated.
If she's too selfish and self-centered.
If she doesn't drink at all.
If she drinks to much...
If she's not faithful enough.
If she's too pretty.
If she's too ugly.
If she's not creative enough.
If she's not expressive enough.
If she's not mean and crazy enough while being affectionate and caring enough.
If she's not passionate enough.
If she's doesn't like to get dirty with me and only me enough.

I will not do any internet dating sites because they are nothing more than prostitution services.

I have a real post in the works but it may be a while before it gets posted.
 
I love small town Wisconsin.  I had highschool classmates from that town.

And a new fetish is born

False advertising

Thank Vishnu that the political ads are over.

You can't blame that one on Not Me.

I miss Minnesota.

Oh, you know what's going on.

Blasphemy has never been funner.

If you're having indulgence problems he feels bad for you, son, but he had 95 theses and a bitch ain't one.  Luckily for you, I wasn't around here on Reformation Day.

I think that goes for any president.

The lows to which TV has sunk have never been lower.

Xanga needs to create Assholish for me to return.

Drunk Dog does not approve.  Anyway, it's time for some Four Loko.  Have a great night.