Michael Atkinson

Michael is an angry little white man, shat into the world by a sarcastic God. He collects gas, debt, and disgusting animals.

Lord Boner of Titicaca

If you are into HBO’s Game of Thrones, you probably fall into one of three categories of fans. The first group includes people who haven’t read a book since Bobby Hebert was a quarterback. They can’t wait for all of the British people to stop talking and show their tits. They tell their friends that it’s based on a true story, and they think a period piece is a fetish film. HBO, Starz, and the others have figured out that two androgynous boys talking about dragons can be interesting to anyone if two hot girls are finger-blasting each other in the background. It’s made me uncomfortable at times, and that’s damn near impossible. The second group includes people like me. I love to read, but you have to keep me intrigued. George R.R. Martin (an a””hole of a name) has created some great characters that I will truly miss when …

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That’s How I Troll!

“Troll” is currently a popular term in internet comment sections. It’s used to describe negative buttholes who skim through articles for the sole purpose of leaving wretched, sometimes completely irrelevant, comments. They are warts on the cock of humanity. Since everyone sucks, it can be hard to tell the difference between trolls and regular people. If you call a troll by his name, he/she/it will become very defensive, exposing its sensitive exoskeleton. I’ve named a few for your convenience. The Grammar Trolls: They will point out every typo, misspelling, and missed punctuation mark. Although it’s usually easy to tell if someone is ignorant or if he was just typing too fast and forgot to proofread, grammar trolls will lump them all in the same category. When their arguments start to falter, which they do often because most of their arguments are built on emotion, you better not mess up and …

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Jiujitsu Mole Removal

Are you tired of straight teeth, nose, and toes? Would you like someone to accidentally fart in your mouth whilst trying to choke you? If so, head on down to your local Brazilian jiujitsu class for a makeover! I am a freckly, moley, Irish-looking bastard. Each year, I go to the “mole doctor” to get inspected from head to toe. Like a fat guy hates his stomach, I hate my moles. I usually try to direct him to the ones I hate the most and hope he’s disgusted enough to cut them off. Once a mole is removed, I usually find the next-grossest one to hate for a year until my next appointment. A few months back, there was one such mole leading the pack. After jiujitsu class one night, my wife called and asked me to pick up a few things on my way home. I was wearing my …

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The Bright Side of the Apocalypse

A bunch of people with beards on the History Channel think the world is coming to an end in December. You’ve probably got your meth basement all stocked with water and tuna fish by now. Instead of focusing on the negatives, let’s take a look at some nouns that will finally get what’s coming to them. Ford Mustangs: She’s a 16-year-old skank with a fairy sticker on her back windshield. She smokes, her mom has yellow teeth and a boyfriend, and she can’t drive worth a sh””t. Like her mother, she has no respect for gravity and sleeps without a bra. She weaves in and out of traffic in a race toward teenage pregnancy. Your grandparents will never see her coming. Then, you have the jerk who spends $20,000 to soup up a $4,000 car. It’s definitely one of the uncool year models, like a ’94 or any year after …

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New Words for the New Year

Boshnogger: My little brother made this word up when he was 7 to substitute for curse words. It’s time for boshnogger to spread its wings. In the early 1990s, a very sh””tty game called “Pogs” was introduced to American culture. Two a””hole children would get together with a bunch of cardboard circles with pictures on them and lust over each other’s treasures. They’d put their pogs in a stack, face down, and prepare for battle. Each player would then take a heavier game piece, called a slammer, and slam it onto the other player’s stack. Any pogs that landed face up now belonged to the “slammer.” Even as a child, I thought this game was ridiculous. I’m sure Sigmund Freud would say this game was just another way for people to dominate each other and blast each other in the asses. My little brother received a pog maker for Christmas …

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