Punman's Blog - 2old2play

Almost a freakin year??

Hot damn, it's been like a year since I added an entry here. Time so freakin flies don't it?? Gadszooks.

Well maybe it's just that I have been somewhat busy this past year that my thoughts and dreams have been crushed for yet another year, so nothing more to add really except that I just became a new grandpa (again) on the 27th of Sep. A 7 pound eight ounce bouncing baby boy. I can only say I'm a happy mofo everyone is healthy and happy so far. This kid cries louder than a timmy losing at halo though, man. First time I was talking to my son with him in the room, he chimed in and that was the end of that call. Holy shit...it's been like a year since an update. Wow, I still find that shit hard to believe. I AM getting fucking old. Either that, or my daily pain meds are working better than I thought. Here's to my new grandson...Huuwaahhhhh!!

PUN

[2 Comments]

Cripes!!

It's been like forever since I posted a damn blog update. Shit, time is moving way too fast...time to get some thoughts down methinks!! Just not today, due to Halo running my life at the moment. Damn game.

PUN

[1 Comments]

Bored shitless...5:50am Sunday morn...

I was perusing through peoples blogs, and decided I would finally stop by mine and drone off some bored thoughts. Ever just sit there at times, looking out a window, and there isn't particularly anything going on, but your mind races at like 100 mph and shit? I thought I would jot down some of this shit, because you never know...it may just be a formula to cure a disease, or stop world hunger, or maybe, just maybe, might wake up my wife so she will fix a pot of coffee so I don't have to. Cripes I'm a seriously lazy fuck anymore. How hard is it to make a pot of coffee. Let's see...water: check. Filter: check. Coffee: checkarooni. Ok, now here's the part I hate...we buy beans, not pre-ground shit, so I gotta dump so many beans in the shredder/grinder/finger remover, grind the poor bastards into dust, then CAREFULLY (wife tells me like this...CAREFULLY OK? CARRRRRRREFULLY...almost....YOU ASSHOLE,..YOU JUST DUMPED GROUNDS PAST THE FILTER, GET THE FUCK AWAY, I'LL FINISH! Of course, I did that on purpose, so she thinks I'm a dolt who can't even make coffee correctly, so she always does it. Ok, back to laziness...so then ya dump the water in, and turn it on. Cripes, that's serious fuckin work if you ask me baby. I hate makin it. Why? No fucking clue. It takes literally seconds, yet seems like hours. WTF has happened to me? Oh yea, I'm lazy. I admit it, and those who don't...yer fuckin' either lying, or your one of those uber clean types, which of course I wish I had married one of those to pick up after me.

Hell, I aint dissin my wife, she does good for me, but of course, if I ask her to vaccuum, she wants me to bleed dust from my ass in 50 pound loads or some shit before she breaks out that fuckin machine. Out of all the chores around the house, why she hates vaccuuming so much is beyond me. You don't get dirty, the damn thing has a motor so ya don't have to push it with force (at least hers (well...ours, heh) does, not all of them of course, but you knew that too didn't ya asshat? Don't get pissy with me k?) And it even has a cool headlight helping you find all those little crumbs and shit nuggets your family kindly leaves behind on the fuckin floor. Sounds almost like a fuckin theme park ride eh? I guess her (well...ours, heh) vaccuum, is my coffee. Fuckin makin coffee sucks.

Wait, this was about boredom, and since I went and took a break (wiz) and came back to this, I'll get back on subject. Ok, things goin through my head a while ago, as I was staring out the window. Now these may seem like rantings or some shit, but in all seriousness, I was just grooving to myself thinking about random shit. Ok, here goes nuttin.

Peanut Butter on crackers or toast, what is better, 'cause I'm hungry, and that's easy. Window's pretty dirty, better tell the wife. My right shoe seems a bit tight (I look at it awhile) these shoes are fuckin lame, how much did they cost, I got goinked...fuckin shoe salesman. I need some aspirin, but I don't want that fuckin taste this early in the morning. Goddamn back is killin me, fuck. Meds time, I'll get 'em in a bit. I wonder if we have aspirin still. What the fuck is aspirin made from? Who in the fuck discovered that this white shit would heal pain? Did he just eat a fuckin mouthful and say, goddamn, this shit helps pain! Hungry still, got some pizza, but it's all old and dry and shit. I like pizza even when it's old and dry. I seriously need some food, I didn't eat dinner. I bet that bird fuckin shits on my car. The crow scared him away, heheh, that was funny, damn shittin on my car wannabe fuckin bird. Crow left, birds back. Fuckin bird. Fuckin bird looks all diseased and shit. Man that's one fucked up lookin robin. I wish I had my pellet gun. Bird got a bug or worm. Oh shit, gross, it squish ate that fucker. I'm not hungry anymore. I need some meds, bad. Aspirin too. Who named aspirin anyway? That's a stupid fuckin name for that shit. I woulda called it "painaway" or some easy shit like that. I seriously hate the fuck who named aspirin now. Was that dude's name Lord Aspirin Aspercreme or some shit? Stupid fuckin asshole. T-shirt needs changing. Burnt a hole in it tonight. Burnt through to my chest. Fuckin hurt like a bitch. Hahaha I need a smokers bib. Fuckin bird is grossin me out, it ate something worm like, and it looked like string shit. I hope that fucker gets a damn attack from it just so I have something to watch other than it feeding on gross shit. I seriously wish I had my pellet gun. Bird left, didn't shit on my car, but dropped a load on my lawn. I'll probably step on that spot later, barefooted. Fuck, I seriously want that bird off the planet. Shitting on my lawn, damn I am seriously not hungry now. I hate birds. STOP!!!!!!!!!

Ok, I know that seemed like a lotta shit, but that was only like 3 minutes of my morning. At least I turned on the puter for a bit, and I'm not bored anymore. I could seriously use an aspirin and my meds though, so until next time dear readers...lates.

PUN

Thought of the day: If you are a smoker, do you wish you could smoke in your sleep?

PS. I'm not gonna edit this, so if there are misspellings and f'd up vocab, tough shit.

[5 Comments]

Time flies like mofo!

Well, I was gonna write in this thing a lot more than I have been, but cripes, I have just been a lazy mofo. I will get back to biz soon, because I have a few choice notes to drone on about. Be sure to check back in the next...oh...six...or seven months from now, at the rate i'm going, for some newer shiznit.

Hugs,

PUN

PS. Thought of the day: If you had three hands, where would you want the third one to be placed?

PPS. The answer to the above question, cannot contain words about the mid torso. Sick biznatches.

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WTF....over?

I'm seriously starting to get pissed at the 360. Why you ask? Well, let's see...I am now on my seventh (yea, seventh...aint this a bitch?) one, and it is now doing the same thing the other 6 started doing before they went tits up. First, it starts with a bunch of dirty disc errors. Then, after those become less frequest, I get the white background with "Please place this disc into an xbox 360 to play" message in like 8 different languages. That damn message is about as lame as it gets. Then, after a few of those, then damn thing just will stop playing xbox games, and just give me the second message above, no matter how many times I open and close the disc drive. Now, here's the thing...I play the 360 a LOT. But never have I had to replace any console I have owned until now. Every other console has held up with my gaming, except this one, and I'm pissed.

After my 2nd one took a shit, I went out and bought that fan kit for it. A few weeks later, it took a shit. The 4th met the same fate a few months later. Took said fan off, and brought in aa table fan for it. No difference, the rest took a shit too. I have tried to keep it cool, have tried all the other fixes people seemed to have stated worked, and to my surprise, nothing has helped. Is anyone else having this problem? Again, it has been the dvd drive on every one that i have had...wtf? I'm too pissed to be witty this post, so I'll leave it here, as I start to call MS once again for my return box. Muddaphuck!!

PUN

[6 Comments]

How I cherish the little ones...Part Two

Well ladies and gents, the 2 devil children (in case ya missed my last blog, I had my nephews ages 10 and 6, stay with me for a week) are now back in their cave they call home. One thing I noticed immediately...holy shit it's quiet. I mean a scary kind of quiet...like these two are still here, but hiding somewhere ready to spring out to give me a freakin coronary. Their father (my brother) is a fucking piece of shit, but you didn't hear that from me. The bastard shows up at like 9:20am all ready to pick them up. Cripes, the kids hadn't even got their shit ready to go yet, and here is this non-phone using asswipe all in a hurry to skip town and shit. Oh wait, he DID use the cell phone alerting me he was coming...from my driveway, the little fucktard. So now we have these 2 unkempt children, scurrying all over the house, throwing shit into their bags all willy nilly, and rushing into every damn room looking for their loose shit. I swear, I'm missing a few pairs of shoes, some of my watches, a damn bicycle, my wife's jewelry, my stereo, and I haven't been able to find our two cats anywhere. Who knows what fuckin treasures they escaped with. I swear this was all a ruse to rip me off or some shit. Then the wife brings me back to reality and reassures me they didn't steal shit, and I slowly agree, well, after I do a room to room item check.

Let me tell ya about my brother for a sec. Ok, when we were kids, he loved dogs and cats. Since my mom was deathly allergic (and I mean DEATHLY) to cat dander, we could never own a cat. Not that it mattered to me, I wasn't really a cat person anyways, but he sure was. We traveled to my aunts house, and of course, my mother told our crumb snatching asses to go outside and play. I think we were about 4 and 9 at the time (I'm the elder of us). Within 2 minutes of being outside, my brother has this cute as can be kitten following him everywhere. Of course, after 1 more minute, the damn kid has it named, and how it's gonna spend the rest of it's days with him. Why I can remember this so clearly is beyond me, but this cat was grey, with a bit of black on it's chest, and he named it "Smokey". So Smokey and him were inseperable for the entire day. He shared his lunch and dinner with him, gave him water, and pretty much held the poor thing for 12 hours straight, since he didn't want him to run away. When we were about to leave the next day, good ol' Smokey was waiting for us on my Aunt's front porch, purring like crazy when my brother picked him up, only to be yelled at for touching a cat by dear old mom. So anyway, the family is hugging each other goodbye, and all those niceties are going on, when my brother is found, sitting nice and neat in the car ready to go home. He wasn't talking at all, and my mom figured he was mad since he had to leave Smokey behind. I tolerated my little brother, since he was such a pain in my ass, but I felt bad for him too, since all he did on the way home was stare out the window...the poor little titbaby.

About halfway home, my mother starts gasping and wheezing like she was dying, and then all she was saying was that damn cat this, and damn cat that. I mean, my mom is literally all red, and wheezing like a chain smoker and shit. She had to pull over into a gas station so she could "wash all the cat off" of my brother. So they are in the bathroom for a few minutes, when all of a sudden, I hear this damn noise. It was like a muffled baby cry or something. About 10 seconds later, I heard it again, but just thought it was some teenagers messing around in the car parked next to us. Anyway, mom and the bro are heading back, and again, that same noise hits, and the teenagers had already pulled away. I start looking around, thinking something is wrong, and of course mommy dearest wants to know why I'm crawling all over the back seat and shit. Then, the sound goes off again. My mom hears it plain as day, and asks me, what the hell is that?? I freak out because I have no fuckin clue. All this time my mom is yelling at me to sit down, in between her coughing and breathing jags, when the noise starts again, and this time, it doesn't stop. My mom literally freaks the hell out, then we freak out, and then she orders us out of the car, there's a damn rat in there or something! Lucky for us, there was a California Highway Patrolman at the gas station, and my mother, looking like she just finished a marathon, was going bonkers because there was a damn rat in our car, and asked the cop if he could help her out. The cop says no problem, and he starts going through the car, and he can hear the sound, because it has been non-stop now for about 5 minutes. The cop starts taking our bags out of the car so he could look through the interior better, when all of a sudden, he picks up a suitcase, and the noise is coming from INSIDE the damn thing. The cop asks us to step back, because he knows this fuckin rat is inside, and he don't want us getting bit. He slowly opens it up, and looks inside, and sees....nothing. All of a sudden, one of the shirts starts wiggling, and the cop steps back a bit and grabs it, whisking it onto the blacktop. Bigger than shit...guess who? SMOKEY! Yes dear readers, my brother loved that fuckin cat so much, he packed the poor bastard, into an already too full suitcase. I swear to god, how that thing survived is beyond me. Of course my mother and the cop are in fits of laughter, my brother is in tears because he thinks he's going to jail, and there's me, knowing after all is said and done, I'm probably gonna get an ass beating for this shit. Don't fret though...the cat was given to a family friend, and it lived a long and prosperous life with them, thank goodness. Good ol' Smokey, that was one toughass sumbitch of a cat baby!!

So anyway, back to the present. After scanning the house to make sure we weren't missing any cars or microwaves and shit, I sat back and started asking the wife if she wanted to have them over on their next break. I shit ya not, we paused, and then just started laughing, like fucking insane asylum inmates and shit, not even knowing wtf was so funny. I believe I left you readers on last Thursday, if not, I'm gonna start from friday am anyway, because I don't feel like going back and checking since I'm a lazy POS. Ok, so let's see...Friday, and the kids wake up...oh yea, start with the dream sequence thing, 'cause here we go.

Friday early am the wife gets back in town from her vacation, yea!! I get to sleep finally, YEA! (YEA! my ass...evil spouse wretch)

Friday am. This was a bit odd, the young one decides to sleep in today!! Yippee!! Right? Meh, yea right. This am the freakin older one decides to wake up at the ungodly hour of 4:45 mudda phreakin AM. Now, after being awaken at these ungodly early hours is getting the better of me, and as he stares lovingly at me, wanting to be fed (of course) and squared away, I decide enough is enough. I stare at him for what seemed like an eternity, and then muttered in a raspy ass morning tone..."Why don't you ever wake up your goddamn aunt in the morning??!!??". He replies, because you make breakfast better. Well fuck me, ya hear that world, I make breakfast better than my wife!! Hallelujia, I must have the magic fuckin milk pouring touch, since all I have fed these damn kids since they arrived is Pop-tarts and cold cereal every freakin day. When I told the little asshat this, and then asked why are my breakfasts so much better, he gave the all so perfect answer..."I don't know, they just are". After stating this little gem of wisdom, my wife rolled over, still asleep, and grunted. I just looked over at her, and as I was pulling the covers off of me, "accidentally" knocked every damn bed linen on the floor. Oooops, clumsy me. I then proceeded to run out of the bedroom like a little beeyotch before she woke up. I told my nephew that if he ever woke me up before 5am again, I would break his legs, and then do something to hurt him really bad (and he then thinks that's some funny shit....oooooo if he only knew how much I feared jail....muwahahahaha). So he's munching and crunching happily, as I sit there with my eyes half shut, semi-drooling on myself, when right on cue, the little one makes his appearance. What does this little shit say to me? Was it Good Morning? Nope. Was it, nice to see you Uncle PUN? Nope again. It was, and I'm quoting here..."Why did you guys make so much noise? You woke me up." My arms instantaneously starting acting on their own, and I started shaking imaginary children to and fro for like 5 minutes. Again, the fear of a cellmate named Big Dick Bubba got the better of me, and I calmed down before I did anything drastic to these damn Hellspawn. Four-mudda-farkin-forty-holy-shit-I-can't-believe-this-five AM.

Friday PM. Dinnertime. The want of shaking children violently has been going through my mind on and off all day, but at dinnertime, a time where MY kids were taught to chill out and actually eat their meals, went a bit shitty. Now, I'm sitting there, cooking up some chicken nuggets and fries, when the little one is practicing a damn dance move or some superhero flight trick and shit. He starts off by kneeling on the chair, when I tell him to sit down correctly. I guess in 6 year old language, that means stand on the chair before sitting on your ass. He stands up, and then it happens....boom! He falls off the chair, and since the table was in my way, I can't see how he lands, but it made this massive "thud" sound. Now, I don't know about you, but anytime a kid does some shit like that, and you know it's gonna be serious most likely, your damn heart sticks in your throat as you rush over to them. I make it to him in like 2 gigantic leaps, and see him heaped in the fetal position on the floor. Oh fuck, this kids gonna have to go to the hospital, I know it. Oh my god, my brother's wife is gonna shoot me in the kneecaps. I musta thought out 15 scenarios of doom, when all of a sudden, the kid looks at me, then starts laughing. Holy FUCK! I shit you not, I think I aged like a minimum of 7-8 years on that one. I lifted the demon child from the floor, planted his ass on the chair, and said, if he moved one inch, I was gonna feed him to the neighbors big assed dog. I think he knew I was uber pissed/relieved, because he pretty much didn't say too much during the rest of the meal. Little bastard.

Saturday am (also known as the "Day the kids go home" day!! Weeeeeeeeee!!). The kids wake up at a decent hour today, if you call 7 am a decent hour on a Saturday. We are doing great this morning, and for some reason I am unusually cheerful. I mean I'm almost skipping around the house and shit. Hmmm, I wonder why? Anyway, after the breakfast meal was done, and cleaned up, I tell the kids to get their shit together, because their dad is gonna be there pretty soon. For some reason I start singing and shit, I wonder why? The kids are looking at me funny this morning, maybe it's because I am not growling for some odd reason. They finish picking up and packing their shit, when I decide we may as well get some gaming in before they head back home. We just sit down to start, and the phone rings. I do a pirouette or two on my way to the phone, again, singing as I answer. Helllllllloooooooooo! Then, I think it happened about 3 seconds into the call...but I believe I grew a fucking tumor in record time when I heard my brothers voice. Now, why would I get a tumor upon hearing my brother's voice? It was due to him sounding like he had fucking Malaria or the Bubonic Plague and shit, the lying cocksmoker. He then goes on to tell me he feels really bad, and that he doesn't think he can stay awake because of these meds he had to take and all sorts of other doombringer shit. I then hear the words I knew were coming all along..."Hey bro, would you mind if I picked up the kids tomorrow?". Well batter me and fry me in fuckin hot oil...I knew it!! I tell him that his "cold medicine" is probably whiskey, and his so called "sickness" is a fuckin hangover from the day before, the uber assed POS. Of course I agree, and when the kids hear this, they go ape shit, and start running through the house. My tumor grew like 3 times larger by the time I hung the phone up, since I was wishing bad shit on my brother...like a damn voodoo witch doctor and shit. If I knew how to make a voodoo doll, I woulda done it baby. In hindsight I shoulda just hit the web and Google'd voodoo doll. The bastard.

So anyway, I shake off the call, and then ask the kids what they wanna do for their final day...AGAIN. The 10 year old now says he wants to play Gears of War on the "Insane" setting. I think about it a second, and then tell him, that it may take like days to finish it, since it was a lot harder than the casual setting. Like that was gonna change his mind, heh...he says no problem Uncle PUN, can we play now? Cripes, I'm thinking if we don't finish, I'll probably be stuck with him until we do, so we go at it. The first level was a drag, he was seeing fiorst hand that I wasn't bullshitting when I said it was a lot tougher. We were dying all over the joint, again and again. He started getting it, and we were starting to really gel as a team by chapter 2. We had to stop for lunch, and all through the meal, all I heard was Berserker this, and Berserker that, and who can kill who, and yadda yadda yadda. For those of you who have played GoW on the Insane setting now, it's pretty tough...admit it, it IS pretty tough bitchass. So after lunch we are nopw working like a super team on steroids. We are rolling through the damn game pretty good now, and the teamwork concept is really working great now. I was pretty amazed at this kids skill, even though this is the third day he has ever even heard of this game, let alone play it. We roll through and make it to the train station at around 6 pm or so, and break for dinner. Again, berserker this, and that and oh shit, please, I was in GoW Hell baby. We get cleaned up, and head back to our battlezone, primed to kick major ass. By about 8pm or so, we are now on the final battle with General Raam. As veterans of this setting know, this is a bitch of a battle. Hell, I have played through this level probably about 5-6 times with various friends, and each time it took quite a while to kick his ass. Sometimes hours!! So we get into it with the top dog, and we put up the good fight, but were decimated by some Kryll on the first run. Then we hit him up again, and I shit you not...we owned that bitch...killed that mofo on the SECOND RUN THROUGH! This was a first for me, and of course my nephew. So what does he do after beating him? After a couple high 5's, he says..."CAN WE PLAY HALO 2 NOW??!!??". I think my tumor grew again after hearing this...shit whenever I beat the dude with other friends, we would damn near bust a hemmerhoid celebrating just how badass we thought we were. This kid just looks at me, and I start LOL, and tell them they need to go to bed, as I put band-aids on my ego and shit. Little bastards.

Sunday am (This better be the day, or I'm gonna have 1 less brother methinks). The kids remind me of just how nice it is waking up at 7 am, by waking up at 5 am, and getting me out of bed. I "accidentally" nudge the wife as I hobble my ass to the kitchen yet again to feed these fuckin bottomless pits. Then this horrible looking thing enters the room and says..."Why did you elbow me in the ribs, you asshole?". I said, good morning to you too honey, care for some Cocoa Puffs? She replies with a loving..."Asshole"...then makes coffee, and then leaves the room. The kids are telling me they hope their dad calls again, and has something wrong with him so they can stay another day. Well aint that sweet, wishing pain and disease on your father so you can play video games...damn Hellspawn children. We end up playing some...what else...Halo 2 for a bit, then, we go about cleaning up for them to head home, but still, there was shit to be done, but screw it, we needed to Halo 2 baby! As told above, my bro shows up at 9:20 am, all hyper to get back home. After we get them packed and loaded up, I go to say goodbye to the kids. First, the 10 year old thanks me, and wants to come back as soon as possible. I just say, "we'll see buddy, whenever you get another break from school, and your mom and dad are ok with it, alright?"...and then I move onto the 6 year old. Now, of course you can only be an asshole 99.9% of the time, well at least that's my personal breakdown. The other .01% happened to me when I got over to the 6 year olds side, and he starts crying, throwing out the puppy dog look, and turned up lip, saying how he is gonna miss me. Awwwww...fuck, that shit was too cute. That made up for the rash of shit he gave me during meal times, and plus it got me a bit sniffly too....the little bastard. As they drove away, I stood there waving, and as they rounded the corner out of sight, I headed back into the house. I walk inside, and I''ll be damned...it was just too quiet. My little buddies were gone, and how I thought I would enjoy some silence, turned out to be just the opposite. Aint it a drag how kids can get under your skin so easily, and quickly? Heh, dammit...now I really miss 'em. The cool little bastards. Well, except for my brother...he's still a POS...wait, he's more like a TOS (Tub Of Shit).

PUN

Quote of the day: "What's another word for thesaurus?" - Steven Wright

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Another slow week

Well let's see, I have yet another excuse for not posting a hair raising boneriffic blog post this past few weeks. Seems the family and me have actually been talking to one another and doing family type shit. Time on the puter has been really limited, but I still manage to grab some gaming when I can. Plus I have been feeling like warmed shit for a few weeks now...due to an old injury that just won't go away. Sitting in front of the puter is a pain when I'm in my old injury mode and shit. Hopefully after I do a video conference this weekend I can slap some more exploits up here on what's been going on and what hasn't over the past few months...and maybe enlighten you to some good old fashioned child rearing by my parents...who probably would be arrested for the shit they used to do if they were to have us crumb snatchers in the present day. Until then...cya on Live, and hopefully...actually throwing down in something with moi.

PUN

[5 Comments]

Times is tough

Wow, another week rolls by without a blog entry. My bad, but I have been a bit overwhelmed lately in real life. I'll definitely hit something this weekend. A few of my buddies want me to re-examine my childhood again...so I may just have to let out a few deep dark secrets of the Punman's younger days. Oh, what a time I had. Mmmm Hmmm. See ya all soon, I need to hit therapy soon because whenever I think back to childhood, I feel an overwhelming urge to strangle shit.

PUN

[2 Comments]

Horry Morry

Heyas all in blog land, what's shakin and all that there? I have been a seriously lazy POS about posting here, because well...I don't wanna damage my cuticles by typing mad and furiously with my killer "two typing fingers". I read a lotta blogs here there and everyhwere, and for the most part, some are seriously fuckin wacked. I visited one where this dude had a shitload of videos from YouTube, and they were all about military air power, tank power, and shit like dat. Then, in the middle of it all, the dude (I assume it was a dude) had these guys power ass fucking. Now, I don't wanna get into someone else's psyche about their sexual shit, but I found this shit seriously hilarious. Hey, look at me, I'm one macho motherfucker, look at my badass flicks of people killin with some awesome war toys...oh wait, and check out Hubert and Bif, stretching each others sphincters out!! I know this dude linked this thing wrong, he prolly was on a copy and paste frenzy, because he posted like 5 of these things a day, and prolly got the one link in there because of a bad copy and paste frenzy. I also assume this because he had like 20+ comments on that single post, and almost everyone was the same, stating "WTF?". Hahaha...I sure wish I coulda remembered to bookmark it, see, I was doing that blog surfing where ya click on peoples favorite bookmarks and shit, and was tired and oh well, unless your into military air/ground power, and power ass mashing, ya prolly woulda forgot too.

The past couple weeks have been all about gaming hard core on the 360. I'm telling ya, it's never a bad thing to have too much cool shit to play every night is it? I mean, from multi-player realeases to single player only releases, the past couple of months for 360 have rocked. Let's see, Gears of War, Rainbow 6: Vegas, New Maps for CoD 3, Lost Planet, I mean I could go on and on. Plus single player shiznit like all the downloadable shit for Oblivion...OMG, is that game like freakin crack or what? Whenever I toss that bitch in the 360, I know it's gonna be a long day/night/week and shit. Oh, and of course, the single player crap in all of these games and more, whew, that's some serious gaming. By the way, lemme ask ya all something here...let's say you have an opening for a multi-player game, and you are looking through your friends list for someone to join you. Do you just invite folks who are playing that particular game, or do you just roll through your list spamming invites to everyone? Personally I do the latter, hell, I figure if someone is just sitting there playing something and they want to do something different, then they have the option. If I just invite people playing that game, chances are they are already in multi somewhere else. So, if you are getting invites from me, and don't wanna play, just ignore it. Don't bother sending me a message saying; I don't have that game, sorry, or some other shit like that. I don't mean to bother ya past the point of "hmmm, PUN's got a game going, should I stay or should I go?" (Ramones!!) If yer ready for an ass stomping, by all means bring your best game and come get some. Or, if your like a lot of the puds on my friends list, you'll still keep playing "Barbie's Horse Trainer" or "Azurik" or some other worthless piece of chit that you play alone, you asswipe. Or just go back to your porn surfing and dick beating you do at least the other 23 hours a day when you aren't gaming, you depraved fuck.

Damn, I know this chick has been in the news like 24/7 and shit, but hot damn, why the fervor over this Anna Nicole chick? American media has got to be the worst fuckin source for info on the planet when here, we got a war going, and this bitch leads the fuckin nightly headlines and shit. It makes me wanna strangle these fuckin media moguls who promote this shit. Why I went to games to this ho is because I was surfing on a vid news site and the fuckin thing has like 20+ stories of this baggage on the top of it's most looked at shit. Can you imagine, being one of our finest, over in Iraq right now, looking at a video feed from the states of any national news, and seeing this shit plastered everywhere, in fact some stations literally haven't even been talking about the war at all in the past few days. Well for those vets and family of those vets who may happen read this someday, don't fret. You have been in the hearts and minds of millions of Americans since day one of that skirmish, and not even the media can downplay the sacrifice you and your families have given to all of us back here in the world (for you non-military types, "the world" always means the US, because as you know, there aint no place like home, plus we have some of the best titty bars on the planet bar none). Only one or two media outlets are even worth a damn anymore, due to all of the competition to get viewers. Do any of these fuckin outlets actually report just the news anymore without any rhetoric or shit? If you know of a place, please let everyone know, I sure would like to find one myself. So, even though I didn't know jack or fuck about Anna Nicole, I don't wanna sound too harsh...rest in peace, you gold digging bitch. Saaaaaaaalute!!

Shit I don't get out much due to a fucked up back and legs due to an accident i had a few years back, so when I do have the urge and power to make a trip, even to the store, I get pretty fuckin excited. I don't mean get wood kinda excited, but fuckin close. So the old lady sees I'm down for some travel and shit, and asks all nicey nicey if I wanna go shopping with her. I get a bit teary eyed, and I start to feel warm all over, and I reply, "Fuck NO". So she leaves and then I grab the keys to the pick-up and head out to the local grocery store for some mad munchies shopping. If I go grocery shopping with the wife, I swear it's like a contest and shit with her. Every fucking item I pick up, she looks at me, and says some shit like, If you buy 2 of the smaller sizes, you get a better deal, or we can get that for 17 cents cheaper at the other store, OR...you don't need that, it's loaded with salt and sugar, and fucking shit like that. I mean, it takes all of like 3.467 minutes exactly to bring my head to explosion and shit. Then I just get all pissed, and start what like to call..."PUN Shopping". That's where I start at one side of the store, and just start throwing shit into the cart as she sits there giving me looks that could kill a fuckin busload of nuns and shit. You should see the pantry in the garage full of shit from PUN Shopping...let's see, I know there are some canned leeks, some wierd jelly type shit, like 10 packs of chinese food starter, about 10-15 cans of some foreign shit I have no idea what it is, but it had a happy face on it, so I kept showing that to her while tossing them into the cart, kinda like how a game show cutie shows off a new car snd shit. For all I know they could be octopus dick or some other shit like that.

Anyway, yhou get the idea...so now, after umpteen years of marriage, she usually don't say jack to me when I grab the goodies. Anyway, alone I can take my time and do my goodies shopping in peace. So of course, I have to first head to the chip section, and wow, it's like heart attack bonanza at the store I'm at, they got serious selection. Then of course I head over to the beef jerky section and scam a few bags of industrial sized dried meats...mmmm good shit Maynard, especially heavily peppered. Then of course I head to the candy section...not for candy, I'm not big on sweet shit, salty is the way to go baby. I snag as many pumpkin seeds as I can find and then I'm ready to check out. I kinda have a complex after I see just what I have up there on the treadmill to the check out. All I can think about is the people around me thinking, wow, what kinda diet is this fucker on? Then I feel really wierd seeing I now have like 5 gorcery bags full of pure crap. The guilt lasts for like 30 seconds though, because when I get home, I know I'm gonna sit down, throw some game on and have a fuckin buffet of bad shit for snackin goodness. Plus I have to hurry home and hide all the shit I bought throughout the cupboards so the wife don't get all up my ass for the money I just pissed out on this shit. Being married...who says you can't act like a kid, cripes, your sanity demands that ya do, or all ya hear is bitching. Makes me feel like a damn 10 year old hiding a porn mag from the parents and shit.

Well damn, enough bullshit for today, I know that my rants and tyrades for this week just aint up to snuff, but I think it's due to me feeling like warmed over shit for the past few weeks. Like I said before, I was in this serious accident years ago, that still fucks with me from time to time. Thank goodness for medication baby. Speaking of which, I need to over medicate, ummmm I mean take my pills responsibly again, so I'll leave you with that...bitches.

PUN

Thought for the day: Be nice to others, until they turn their backs to ya. Oh yea, and remember, I hate everyone equally.

[4 Comments]

What a freakin week

I have been lazy this week, and din't get an entry going. Shame on me. I did start one, but after a paragraph, accidentally hit "back" on my mouse...fuck. I lost the shit, then got tired and stopped writing. I'll prolly come on tomorrow, I needs to throw down in something asap before my fuckin head explodes from tedium. See ya all in XBL. Don't wait up for me honey, I gots shit to kill.

PUN

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I came, I gamed, and I conquered...motherfucker.

Wow, what a week. I was groovin with some buds hardcore in just about everything this week, from Lost planet, to Gears of War, and mucho mucho (that means "more" for you English only bitches) others to say the least. Oh, and if you have been following this harrowing tales blog, you'll know that my keyboards take a beating due to inadvertent coffee spills, and ciggy burns. I swear, this keyboard I have atm, is a fuckin trooper. The "K" key for some reason still works, even though literally 3/4 of it looks like a melted plastic army man, remember, the ones ya used to torch with the can of Lysol and a match in the backyard and shit? Fuck, those army men cost me a serious ass beating once when I was about 8 or so. I was one serious fuckin child pyro, I gotta admit...anyways, my mom had just put in these new bathroom counters, and I swear they looked like some sort of funky ass camoflage made just for my army men to conquer and kill and cause mass fuckin mayhem on. I drop on my battalion of badasses on, and here comes the industrial size can of Lysol! (I gotta thank good ol' mom for buying that size, cripes you could torch some serious shit with that bug fuckin can) So I see that the grenade dude (the one in the perpetual throw motion) is about to fuck my boys up, so I target him first...Hayaaaaaaaaa motherufucker!! Take that!! That bitch went up like nuttin, and proceeded to melt not only onto my mom's new counter...but melted INTO mom's new counter. Oh fuck me...even when yer as young as that, you know the serious ass beating yer gonna get when you start fucking up shit that can't be just washed off. I literally went to my room after I made even more of a mess of it, by chipping the shit away as best I could with a fucking butterknife, which of course, made the shit worse.

Ok, let's see, sitting in my room, all I can think about is how shiny and nice and clean the old man's belt buckle looks right before he whips it off to cause serious damage to my ass cheeks. Well 15 minutes into that nightmare thought, good ol' mom, who is sniffing around the house like a fuckin bloodhound says..."something's burning in here, I can smell it!". She then asks me to help her find out where the smell is coming from. Of course i know, but thinking I'm one smart motherfucker, head to the back of the house, so I can draw her away from the bathroom. I say, "is this it?" way back in the kitchen, and she says she can't smell it and heads back down the hall. 10 seconds later all I hear is one word..."Oh!". Right then I'm shitting a brick, because dear old mom can lay down some ass whippin too, and all I can think about is how to fucking die so I don't get beat. She calls me into the bathroom shoiws me my handiwork and asks in a calm tone (calm tone = so fucking pissed she's about to have a coronary and shit) "Did you do this...son?" (Oh fuck, the "son" interjection is like a dagger to me, I know when I have no name, it's about to come) I then break into tears....and I start getting all wet faced and snotty, and start doing that hyperactive breathing and crying shit kids do when they are so fucked like I was...and I replied as quickly as I could through all my trauma....I say..."No mom." Mom looks at me and asks again..."Did you do this?" I reply after like 3 minutes of fast breath crying...."No mom." Then it comes, the 3rd asking of the question of doom. I have a choice here, since I know my mom like the back of a book, the 3rd try is due or die time see...if it don't come out after the 3rd one, you are so fucked, you just can't believe the pain and suffering you are gonna be in for. I mean, restriction, an ass whippin, no friends, no phone, no fuckin nuttin! So here it comes after another 2-3 minutes..."Did you do this?" And of course I wanna come clean, because I'm shittin baby seals and cantaloupe about now, so I say..."No mom, I swear to God I didn't!! Strike three motherfucker, yer out!!

Seeing as my mom is a devote religious type, the God part of my statement probably made her the most pissed, even though I just lied through my teeth 3 times as I looked her dead in the eye. Being that age, it seems kinda tough to come up with a story that woulda been a winner, seeing as I was the only one home at the time this shit happened. If my little bother had been there I though, he would be gettin a serious ass whippin now instead of me, because I woulda blamed this shit all over his ass. So now, I got mom wanting to kill me, and dad is like 2 hours away from getting off work. My life, in my opinion was over. All I could think about was ways to die again...oh how that would teach them both to be mad at me. I was thinking about ways to go so they would be sad and shit...yea, that would teach them! Beat me will they!! Anyway, after lie number 3, my mom laid into me, I got the "grab by the scruff of the neck, carry yer ass through the house while I spank yer ass treatment"...number 23A-6. Ahhh, the classic 23A-6. I numbered all the ass beatings in accordance with who did it, and how much discomfort it caused, seeing as I was a fuckin brat bastard when I was a kid, and got the shit spanked outta me pretty much daily. Of course no matter how much mom tried, she could never instill the kinda fear like dear old dad. Like I said before, that fuckin belt of his was some evil shit man. I hated to even go near it when it was on the floor. I shit you not, that was a scary motherfucker. T-minus 60 minutes until the dadster walked through the door...if he had a bad day at work, I was in for a few more wallops, so I was praying that no one pissed him off all day at work.

My mom of course is now on the phone to dad, he's about to leave the job, and start his commute, when all I hear is, "Guess what your son did yadda yadda yadda"...oh fuck, she made me sound like Manson and shit. Then I hear her sign off with, "You had better do something about this when you get home!". Those words were like the last nail in the coffin for me. I knew my ass was gonna be throbbing in T-minus 45 minutes now. I don't know about any of you...but lemme tell ya, when there is impending doom on the horizon, I start to freak out and think up some serious shit in how to escape it. First off I was gonna run away from home, so for whatever reason, I need to fast pack "essentials" for my life on the run. What do I take? 5 pairs of underwear, and 2 t-shirts. In my thinking, I can wear the same pants and socks forever, but I can't have dirty fuckin undies now can I? Plus they were easy to pack...I just stuffed all of the shit into my pants, so I didn't have to carry any of it. Fuckin' brilliant if you ask me! Ok, so here I am, scavenging the necessary shit I need to (undies and shirts) and they are now all crammed into my pants, so I look like some kinda freak with a gland problem in my crotch and shit, when mom walks in and sees me heading for the open window. She snags my young ass and makes me "unpack". I know she was trying her ass off not to laugh, but it took me years to realise that shit. She says sit down and don't move...T-minus 10 minutes until dad walks in.

T-minus 5 minutes and I start crying. It wasn't real crying, it was that mom, "please don't let dad kill me" kinda crying. But I guess that counter was a bit over the top when it came to my ass being spared. She just said, "knock it off, that aint working today". Fuck that, now I really start crying because I'm all terrified and shit. Then I hear my old man's car pull up into the driveway. I stop crying so I can hear the plan of abuse heading my way when he walks in and chats it up with my mom. They were kinda quiet for a bit, and I strained like fuck to hear what they were saying, then the old man walks into the bathroom, and looks at my new decorative skills on the counter, and just went..."well shit, that's not gonna be easy to replace now is it?" He then walks into my room, where I'm sitting on my bed, and closes the door. I say "hello dad, how was work today?" He replies..."It was shit". My mind is now going bonkers, and I think my asshole puckered so hard, I sucked up some of the bed linens. He asks..."that counter in the bathroom, the new one your mom just had put in...did you burn an army man on it, and let it burn through the counter?" Now, my mom is someone who takes a bit of shit, but dad don't, ever. I mean ever. Instead of replying to his question, I just drop my head and start doing the "quiet sniffle crying" shit. He then tells me, if I tell him the truth, I won't get beat for it. I'm thinking I just lost my hearing and shit, this is too fuckin good to be true, so I keep my head down, and keep up the sniveling. He brings my head up, and asks again, and I know I heard him right this time, so of course I say, "Yes dad, I did burn the army man into the counter". What a fuckin relief!! My dad then gets up and walks out of the room, and I'm just sitting there, amazed like I just saw a fucking alien or some shit. I literally cannot move because it was surreal for me not to get an ass whippin for this disaster. Woohooo!

Now, I think all of 1 minute went by, and I start putting my clothes away (undies and t-shirts) that I had for my trip. When all of a sudden, the old man bursts through the door, and whips off his belt, grabs my narry little ass, and goes to town on the southern end. SSHHHWWWACK!! This is for lying to your mother....SSHHHWWWACK!! This is for lying to your mother and me!! SSHHHWWWACK!! SSHHHWWWACK!! SSHHHWWWACK!! You will...SSHHHWWWACK!! not ever...SSHHHWWWACK!! SSHHHWWWACK!! SSHHHWWWACK!! lie to me...SSHHHWWWACK!! SSHHHWWWACK!! SSHHHWWWACK!! or SSHHHWWWACK!! SSHHHWWWACK!! your mother SSHHHWWWACK!! SSHHHWWWACK!! SSHHHWWWACK!! got it???!!! SSHHHWWWACK!! SSHHHWWWACK!! Once he got done tanning my ass, I swear I blamed myself for lying like a fuckin rug to my mom, over something anyone else woulda just given up because they weren't stupid enough like me to even try to get away with this shit. Damn...all that drama over a fucking army man toy. I swore I wasn't gonna play with those evil fuckin plastic men ever again. Well, that is until dear old mom bought another industrial sized can of Lysol that is. You can't play army men without ammo...you know? All I know was to never fuckin play army men in the bathroom again, because after all, no kid, no matter how fucked up, would do some shit like that twice. Now...under my bed in my room, that's another story...those fuckers look glorious in the dark when they're flaring up and shit!! Ahhh, to be young again...damn I miss that shit.

Wow, I was gonna talk about games wasn't I? Well shit, guess you'll have to check out my next entry bitchasses. I now have to go answer all my spam in my mail. I really think that Kenya guy needs my help, so I'm off to the bank!! Have fun, and remember, if you see me on Live, say hello...or at least say piss off or something. If I see you first, I'll definitely tell you what I think about you, bitches.

PUN

Thought of the day: Imagine at least 10 ways you can use butter without using it in cooking. On your mark, get set, go!

[4 Comments]

"Getting Bdays, the so called good ones"

2old2play.com is a pretty nice site if you are an older gamer without a doubt. It lets you hang out and converse/bash/rap/shizzle/whatever with folks who are close to your age somewhat, and don't use the term "faggot" or "your mom is..." in every other sentence. That's a nice thing, but then there are the not so nice things that we have to listen to from all our gamer buds and budesses. What are they, for the most part? Age related shit. After reading through a buncha posts, I sometimes get seriously depressed about getting older. To me, you got 2 birthdays in your life that actually mean something. Of course there is the sweet Sixteen Bday. Or it could be close if you are in a state that makes ya wait until 17/18 to drive. At least for me, 16 mwas the year you could get your license and drive legally. Bam, one down. Next of course, there is the big ol' party at 18 years of age. That's the day your parents can legally get you outta their fuckin house. 18 Years old for me was a drag, because I spent it in a warzone with the military...fuckin lame Bday if there ever was one lemme tell ya (I joined the US Army at 17). Of course the grand daddy of Bdays is of course, 21. Oh yea, 21 and you can get into a bar legally and drink, then drive, then kill other people legally!! Weeeeeee!! Well, for me, I was going into bars legally at 17 (NCO club on base then overseas in the Army), so the 21st again, meant jack and fuck to me in that "excited and get a boner" because I can drink sense. So now...what the fuck is left?

I shall digress fellow readers. Oh, and if you are already taking Zoloft or Zanax or any other Z fuckin drug for depression, go ahead and skip the next paragraph or two, or you may just need to up your dose and shit. Yea, and I really don't want you to put any more money into those big pharmaceutical companies than ya have to already. Oh, and also skip the rest if you have no sense of humor, or, if you're just a plain asshole, or even more so if you're a retarded asshole, because I just hate assholes. And it seems that almost all asshooles are either retarded, or very close to retardation. You have been warned...so read on bitches!!

I thought since I got ripped off, I would make up my own birthdays to get all excited about. Fuck the norm, I got screwed twice, and since I couldn't do anything about it, vowed to just pick some days where it was gonna be important to me myself and I. So at 21 I grabbed my life planner book, made from the back of a cigarette carton (Salem Menthols, oh yea! btw...how many 21 year olds smoke Salem anyway? Wow, I was seriously fucked up eh?)) and write down these very important times in my life that would be a reason for celebrating that specific Bday. Now, the act didn't have to occur exactly on that Bday, but had to be at least 12 months before said Bday.

Ok, so the first major event that I celebrated was 23rd Bday, the "stop smoking one". Salem's and lung tissue don't mix for shit, and waking up with lung loogies really sucks. I stopped smoking for like 2 days. By the end of the 2nd day, I coulda strangled a fuckin girl scout since I was jonesin so bad, well, maybe not a girl scout, unless she was puffin a cig in front of me and shit. That cold turkey method sucks ass I thought, so of course I then tried the wean yerself offa these things slowly. Well it seems that I wanted to smoke even more by monitoring how much I smoked, so that worked for shit too. I then tried the patches, and gum. Well I was spending some serious fuckin goink for that shit man. Plus, I was then addicted to the fuckin patches and gum. I mean seriously, when yer wearing like 15 patches, and chewin the gum like you were at a fuckin bubble blowing contest...well ya know right there it aint gonna be a good thing. I eventually had to stop wearing the patches, because I had nowhere left to put them since they made my skin all raw and shit. Plus after a while, the gum made my jaw lock-up like a motherfucker...how many times have you woken up due to a fuckin mouth cramp? Unless yer a hooker or something, that shit had to go too. Ok, well I gave it the ol' college try, but it didn't work, I'm still smoking like a fuckin train, but at least my skin is healthy again.

The 2nd major event was a glorious one...I must say. My 24th Bday was the "Get rid of the hateful bitch you married for whatever reason" day. I divorced the hateful bitch that was my wife. That's all, and if you happen to know where the bitch is, kick her in the fuckin stomach for me ok? Man she was a fuckin hateful bitch. She did have decent titties though. Although they were hateful titties.

The 3rd major event was the "Cancer, wtf, I'm only 32 motherfucker, are you fuckin serious?" Bday. The doc who was my doc at the time threw this tidbit of info at me at 32 years old, and I went kinda limp. I was like fuck me, this is not too groovealicious to say the least. Well thanks to his tests done at a later time, and through all of the blood drawn, and even more tests done, and after, well, you get the idea. Anyways, 6 months later he tells me it was a false alarm, and that somehow the tests I took earlier were in error. Well geeeeeeee willickers doc, thanks for the speedy fuckin change in opinion there. I mean I was giving shit away, telling my bosses to get fucked and all those other things ya wanna do but don't because ya gotta be there tomorrow and shit. Doctors fuckin suck, more on that later in another entry methinks. Not all doctors, just the ones I seem to employ for my care.

Now of course there were others in there I coulda celebrated, but for me, these are the ones that just stuck with me for whatever reason as important to me. Be they good, or bad, just like real Bday's, ya gotta have 'em I guess. Let's hope your Bday memories are kickass. Well at least more kickass than mine. If they aren't, well, you should post them, because I love reading about other mofo's bad days, it makes me feel better and shit.

Wow, time is flying and i needs to grab me some gaming before I need to re-medicate. I'm goonna start throwing out cheesy reviews of my games that I have played at the request of a few folks in my gaming guild here at 2o2p. Seeing as this is my second entry in blogville, I think it's nice to toss shit around now and then, but of course, clean up sucks, especially if you have long fingernails. wtf?

PUN

Thought of the day: If you had no arms, how would you scratch your ass? Please, tell us all, I need to know.

[4 Comments]

Hello bitches! Note: NSFW is my mantra.

25 January, 2007

Just wanted to start this mutha up (this blog thingy that is). What to expect here? Rantings from a certifiable lunatic, with a seriously ciggy burned assed keyboard. I have to order freakin keyboards by the gross and shit, so if a letter seems to be missing from a lot of the words, just blame it on the cloves baby. Oh yea, cloves, I puff 'em by the carton baby...they remind me of that one night in Punjar, India with that $1.02 hooker. The extra .02 was payment to have her wash before we got all phunky with each other. Hot damn what a night...wait, what the fuck was I even talking about?

Anyway, for those who get offended easily, please do yourself a favor, and never click this blog link again, or you may just go blind and shit from all the groove funk I spill out. I mean if the entry starts with some shit like..."Anyway, as I was fisting this chick, see..." please don't assume right off the bat that it will be offensive. Oh no my dear reader, please read further into that, and that's where the real nasty shit will probably be. But there again, do not harbor ill will of me even then dear reader....no, please meet me in a game and then you can really be annoyed and hated by my bubbly personality, and freakishly good looks. Only then will you realise, that I am definitely your true hero, and now that you have discovered me, you can now live with yourself as your ying and yang have just gotten blown by one another and you are now on the path of true inner peace...or some fuckin shit like dat.

Again, please don't hate me because I'm beautiful, or that my postings may touch a nerve or three...just take this shit for what it will always be...shit. I reserve the right to be unedited, unless you are "Mr. T", because he is the only other person on this planet who can throw out the groove thang better than anyone else, and he is a damn uber leet badmammajamma to boot..."I pity the fool *insert anything here, the line is classic*". Man that's some awesome shit. Wait, what the fuck was I talkin about again? Cripes, my mind wanders too damn much methinks. In fact, yes, I will have pickles with that. Seven dollars!!?? For a fuckin sandwich...wtf??!!

Ok, so there's the start of me blog matey's. See ya soon, and yes, I am available for baby sitting, as long as the doctors let me out on the dates/times you need. See ya soon, bitches!

PUN

Yes, I am your hero...don't even try to deny it, and oh yes, I'm also as pretty as a girl. Remember kiddies, this blog will never be safe for work, clickee and get fuckee by your bosses, it ain't my fault, dumbass.

Aint he just the cutest little thang?

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