Saturday, December 31, 2011

Fuck Your Decorative Towels. The Random Thoughts Post.

I couldn't let the year end without one final post, because I already feel super lazy for not posting in a "who the fuck knows?" amount of time, so I thought it'd be a mighty fine idea if I wrapped up 2011 with whatever the fuck is on my mind, regardless of how slim that might end up making this post.

To start things off, as the title implies, fuck your decorative towels.
I go to people's homes around the holidays, drain the pee pee, then wash my hands and realize that there aren't any paper towels or normal fucking human towels to use at all except for those non-absorbent, decoration adorned shitty decorative towels people hang up during parties so we won't assume they hang their smelly shower towels that they rub their balls on around all the time.
Yes, I use them, fuck that shit.
I even give them quite a tug to dry my face and leave them a wrinkly mess because fuck you.
It's your own fault.
How dare you leave me dripping wet like some throbbing cunt, left to drip dry in the cold night air after being teased then shunned by society for being a lady of the night?
Fuck you, you set me up, so I had no choice but to dry myself on your stupid ass towels and I rubbed my face all over Santa's balls and it sucked.
I hate you and I farted and I squished your bar of soap, eat my ass.

YEAH! Fuck your towels!

While on the subject of the holidays; did no one watch any Christmas movies as a kid?
What the fuck does getting an iPad have to do with Jesus?
Jesus got like two out of three bullshit gifts (the gold was the only decent shit, you cheap bastards).
If we valued them in today's currency, it'd be the equivalent of getting those shitty cheap generic wrestling figures from the dollar store as a gift.
Maybe, I'm just basing it on how I would feel if some dickhead got me frankincense for Christmas.
Perhaps it was pricey, but it still sucks.
A piece of shit might cost three hundred dollars but it's still a hunk of shit.
Still, the spirit of this holiday shit is about family and spending time together and getting hand jobs in the bathroom from your woman while the kids are staring at the Yule Log on TV.
Not this nonsense of expecting pricey things I can't afford unless I let homosexuals take pictures of my ass behind the Target over at Mount Vernon (hypothetically).
So fuck you guys for ruining the spirit of Christmas and everything that baby Jesus guy worked so hard to set up.
That dude didn't die so you could have an iPhone, you scumfucks.
If you want to buy me one, though, I won't judge you, but I also won't stop myself from giving you a dirty stare, you blasphemer, you son of a bitch.

That's right, God damn it!

At this time, I'd like to reiterate the fact that I'm not a racist, but fuck foreigners.
You motherfuckers come to my city during the holidays and crowd my trains, my streets, my stores, you don't respect personal space and you smell funny.
Fuck you guys with a bratwurst and a menorah and whatever the fuck you shove up your asses during the holidays, but thanks for your patronage!


Speaking of trains, can New York please create a fucking law that allows the use of special bounty hunters that travel around the subway system collecting and/or killing homeless and crazy people?

This guy's perfect for the job.

These scary and smelly sons of bitches need to be eradicated.
I'm tired of schizos yelling at the air and smelly ass bums sleeping on the seats, god damn it.
I get all the psychos when I travel, too, and nothing like having a fucking bum taking a shit in the train during rush hour.
Fuck those guys, you can kill them, grind them up into a delicious, healthy juice cocktail to serve to the other homeless people who give a damn about themselves and don't go on the trains asking for shit all the time.

Bullshit, I'm not buying it, shoot this bastard.

Please, this law must be passed, it will be a glorious time for NYC, so many bodies piled high.
Kill those guys that sing too, fuck them.

I gotta run, I'm hiding in the corner of a party getting dirty looks for being anti social and a complete asshole.

You motherfuckers behave yourselves, don't smoke any crack in 2012 or suck any dicks you shouldn't.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

What Does This Do Mommy? The Sexual Miseducation of Bryan Bronx.

Thinking deeply to myself the other day, which is what I do when you see me on the subway with my lower jaw hanging open, drooling, leaning on someone who may be sitting beside me or rocking back and forth with my eyes closed as the train stops and goes, I realized that out of all my years spent in the New York City public school system, I learned absolutely Jack Shit about anything sex related from the many schools I attended.
Well, we did have a Health Ed class in seventh grade, which was coordinated by one of our gym teachers and was mostly about watching Basketball videos and little girls staring at his piece in his unusually short sweat shorts for forty-five minutes, but other than that, I didn't pick up anything useful in that class, unless by "anything useful" I actually mean "reading Nintendo Power" magazine.

"Nintendo Power"

High School wasn’t any better.
I don't even remember having a Health class, in fact, the only thing I can remember remotely related to Sex Ed was a substitute teacher showing us how to put on a condom on what appeared to be a wooden cock.
I swear to God.
That dude seemed sort of gay and had an insurmountable proficiency at this skill because that cock cover was wrapped around that wooden phallus faster than I can get one off of my own pink and fleshy love pole.

"Pay attention, children, we'll have a hands on demonstration next."
But that was it.
This was the extent of what the school system taught yours truly about sex.
Hell, I didn't even learn about sex organs!
If I didn't watch porn as often as I did, (which wasn't often, fuck you…..twice a day) I'd have never known what any of the sex organs' actual bodily functions and uses really were.
I didn't know tits produced milk only when a woman was pregnant, I assumed they just shot milk like Spider-Man shot webs, whenever, wherever, like bulbous, fleshy super soakers filled with cow juice.

"OH MY GAWD, those cookies are going to taste SO good!"

I always wondered why we even bought milk at stores when any one of my aunts could have just as easily squeezed their chesticles and filled a bowl of my King Vitamin cereal in a swirling white ocean of momma milk.
Why were people starving in Africa if all that was needed was a good pinch on someone's tit to shoot nourishment down the throats of fly covered kids?
What the fuck?

"Africa's messiah."

No one taught me this shit about tits,  I swear to God, I didn’t know anything about tits other than the fact that staring at them made my dick harder than a child molester getting a job at a daycare.

"Now kids, meet your new teacher, who looks totally safe."
I thought the main functions of mammaries were to seduce men and then feed the babies that came from said seduction's consequences.
That's about it.
Sure, one can argue "Haven't you seen a movie? Haven't you seen discovery channel?”
But keep in mind, I didn't have cable until later in life because I was a poor little piece of shit and I've also never seen a movie where the focal point of the plot was about titty milk.
You tell me a movie that focuses on that subject and I'll rush on to Netflix right now and start watching.
Possibly with my pants off, but whatever.

Don't even get me started on vaginas.
You have to what? Get them wet to insert your penis in there?
Since fucking when??
Was there a class I missed here?
"Instructional Vaginal Moistening 101"?
No one told me this shit, I had to discover this on my own by jamming my finger into a vagina and using the poor girl's cringes and screams as my guide to whether or not I've performed an appropriate and successful finger bang.
THEN after the water works began (or blood loss from my haphazardly and aimless dry finger stabbing) and the aforementioned moistening was upon us, that sweet gentle glide area was ready for me to insert items that needed lubrication for easy insertion such as rolled up magazines, mail tubes and anything else I wanted to shove up there in the name of sexual science and sheer curiosity.
Sure, probably my dick too, why not?
But that last point is neither here nor there,  I was one of those kids who'd stick his dick in anything with a hole suitable for it in the name of exploration (my penis is quite the spelunker), so that's a story for another time.

"Yup, you bet your ass I would."

To me, vaginas were just a mysterious, furry, spider looking creature that didn't come with enough instructions for me to understand the concept of one.
There's even a clitoris and a G spot in there somewhere!
Did you know that if you gently rubbed the clitoris, this would stimulate women and subsequently lead them to orgasm?
Me neither!
Holy shit!
When the fuck did anyone mention this?
Not even your parents can teach you this, because it's a touchy subject, too graphic or rather, erotic to explain and makes most parents feel really fucking uncomfortable.
I wouldn't tell this shit to my children, but I'll demonstrate on the cat.
Nah, I'm kidding.
But truly, it's all a game of trial and error and embarrassment.
Also, keep in mind, people won't outright admit half the shit I just admitted to.
Everyone goes through this exact same thing, this sexual confusion, but they try to play it off with a faux confidence and bravado about it, but its all bullshit, they had no idea what the fuck was happening at the time, just like me.
You think most guys know where the G spot is?
(I do).

Sex organs are some of nature’s greatest mysteries and will always have a need for discovery since the demand for sharing the knowledge isn't high at all, but only because of the embarrassment factor behind it.
I dare you to ask anyone about the subjects covered here, good luck being a social fucking outcast and a lifelong sexual deviant.
Had I asked anyone such questions, I'd have been ousted and would have become one of those weird guys who only get off when you fist fuck their parakeets while watching Family Ties on blu-ray and you have to jerk them off with a wet sock puppet.


I like to think of sexual discovery like a broken game of Operation, at least from the male perspective.
You randomly jam your dick into whatever hole you can find, hoping for victory, but since it's a broken game of operation, your lady friends' nose isn't going to light up and you don't get that scary fucking buzzing noise telling you that Cobra Commander is in the wrong hole.
Though, I'm very thankful it doesn't make that noise because Operation always scared the living shit out of me whenever I fucked up, I couldn't take that pressure during sex, especially first-time sex.

"Now I just insert myself into this hole and.....BUZZZZZZZ! FUCK!"

Penises aren't exempt here, either.
I obviously don't know how it must have been from the female perspective (and I'd love to hear your thoughts on this, ladies) but from my childhood understanding of penises, either a guy’s pecker looked like mine, which was a fully circumcised cruise missile, or a God damned hideously deformed ant eater looking contraption that shot piss out of it whenever it was exposed to light.
Fuck me, I remember the first time I went pee pee time with another dude, we were in an alleyway and both of us whipped out our dicks to piss when suddenly my little buddy points out the differences in our dicks and as I stare at his, I am suddenly filled with a sense of horror and dread and coldness as I bore witness to his little mangled meat and saw the most horrifying piece of flesh I'd ever lay eyes on.
His dick looked like a sick joke made during the Spanish inquisition, it looked like some kind of bait a depraved fisherman would hang off a hook, it looked like an over-boiled hotdog, ACK!  
It was just fucked and awful and I wanted to throw up.
His dick looked like Cell's tail (from Dragon Ball Z) and I assumed it would perform the same functions, swallowing me whole and absorbing my essence with my pants on and everything.

"Fuck! It smells like Feta cheese in here!!!"

I didn't know that there were circumcisions, I assumed there were just normal dicks and abnormal dicks and that my dick was regular and your dick was a motherfucking science accident.
Funny thing is, I later found out that my dick was actually the abnormal one and that the disgusting flesh sheath is what you're born with and my mind was completely and utterly blown away in disbelief.
I then realized that God is a fucking sicko with a deformed penis.

Imagine being a young lady (unless you are one, of course) and having the same frame of mind I did concerning what a penis should look like.
I mean, after all, when you watch most porn movies or look at dick magazines (these exist, right?), men are almost always circumcised, it's not too often you see one that isn't chopped proper in nude media.

So here you are, a young, innocent girl getting frisky with Fast Eddie from downstairs when those hormones start raging and something inside of you tells you that you should put his penis into your mouth because it seems like a good place to start.
He whips out his dick that you're expecting to look like a fire hydrant as you get ready to engulf it and all of a sudden you're confronted by a fucking pants leech.
What do you do?
You freak the fuck out is what you do, unless you're a sick fucking chick who'd suck on anything and it doesn't even phase you.
You also probably love aged cheese.

Personally, I would not put that thing in my mouth, so Eddie over here is going to have the biggest case of blue balls since Papa Smurf.
Sure, being uncircumcised is normal, but so is being born a retarded person and I wouldn't suck their dicks either.
If I was a young lady, I mean.
Shut up.

We have to get our sex know-how shit together, people.
Schools need to get on the ball and get sex education in order because all of this self discovery can't be healthy.
There has to be one crazy son of a bitch out there who is willing to share their knowledge of tits and pussies and horribly disfigured penises with the youth of the world.
Someone who will explain to you why vaginas fart and why some penises lean to the left and why anal sex is frowned upon (but so beloved!).

It's not going to be me, I'm still too embarrassed to buy condoms or titty magazines, I make excuses whenever I have to show someone my non erect penis, so you better look elsewhere for a solid role model, but I will be happy to endorse this individual once he or she steps forward.

Who will save us?
Who will teach those unfortunate souls of the world that farting during a blowjob is bad oral sex etiquette?
Who will tell you that the clitoris is not a god damned arcade game button for you to bash on?
We need the Sex Ed equivalent of Jaime Escalante....

Or we can just hand out more flyers and call it a day, whatevs.

Thursday, August 4, 2011

I Will Steal Your Fucking Bike, Spider-man (Super Spectacular Hetero Guest post by Kid Ish)

Got a special post today, from a guest, my heterosexual life mate, Kid Ish.
Unlike me, he's not a complete comic book racist, so read on about the Spigger Spidey.

So the other day, Marvel showed some pictures of Miles Morales, the new Spider-man, to USA Today, the paradigm of virtuous fucking reporting every goddamn day to Denny's patrons. It's totally the most reliable place to connect with your typical, completely racist, fascist, and closed-minded American: anyone living in the middle of the country.
 He looks pretty gay right here, but Marvel assures us: he's just a minority, not an asshole sodomizer. 

So goddamn right, everyone and their mother is online and offline talking about how Marvel is giving white jobs to minorities, those fucking bastards. Affirmative action in our white ego masturbatory fantasies?

Fuck no! We won't stand for it! Even though this looks pretty cool...



Except we totally will stand for it, because we're fucking godless heathens who like to suck each other's e-dicks. I have no idea what this has to do with anything, I think I just really wanted to connect with the readers of this blog.

You know, all totally buttfucking queer.

Anyway. Back to business: the new Spider-man is half black, half Hispanic. Marvel wants me to say half African American, half Hispanic. Since that makes absolute fucking sense, I'm going to call him half black, since on his mother's side nobody fucking cares about Africa, they have a really gay Batman. 

Batwing, the gayest idea since stealing people from their homes for slavery purposes and not sex purposes pfft.

So fuck that place. Right?

Bronx is Puerto Rican you know. Even my computer wants me to correct the spelling of Puerto to like, Roberto, which tells you how important that fucking place is. But his PR-ass is whiter than mine, so you know he's all pissed off that the new Ultimate Spider-man is half not white, like his albino ass.

Where am I going with this?

Fuck you, I like this Miles Morales kid. He totally wouldn't steal my bike.


Bronx's gripe: (This is me, writing on my shit, but on my guest's shit,  because I'm all up in his shit) .
(See yesterday's blog post). 
The only issue I have with a Spigger Spidey is that it seems purposely done to just generate headlines and/or controversy.
I mean, look at his mix, look at his name.
You take a common, yet somewhat sophisticated Black name and a common Hispanic last name and BAM, Obligatory ethnic mashup.
I'm surprised they didn't get even more PC and put him in a wheelchair, or make him gay or have him shoot rays of sunshine from his eyes that brought our soldiers home.
Whatever, I'm just a very hardcore Spidey fan, forgive my skepticism, forgive my rant, proceed.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

The Least Homoerotic Way Of Professing Your Love To Another Man. (I Swear)

I was talking to a really good male friend of mine recently and it got me thinking.
I love this guy.
He's like a brother to me, family.

We bullshit all day via email, we call each other up every now and then just to shoot the shit, we give advice to one another and we have so much in common that it's borderline out-fucking-rageous.
We live a great distance apart, but when we do see each other, we hug like we just returned safely from war, it's one of those big, bromantic hugs that makes a thunderous clap as we embrace each other in our nooks of manliness and shakes the very Heavens and also makes the Gods themselves envious at the level of affection two mere mortals can display.
People gather around us as we send rifts through the universe that make other guys love other guys in the most heterosexual of ways, but also in the kind of way that makes them toss aside all inhibitions, causing them to hug one another.
Men everywhere feel the love that is emitted by the shockwaves from our back pats, tears and hugs become abundant amongst men, it's just what happens, I'm not even making this up.
Ok, maybe I am, fuck it.


In all seriousness though, sometimes you want to solidify a bromance in a stronger way, but it seems that hugs and handshakes are the very limits of where men can go with their physical affections.
This is mainly in part due to a very homophobic society where most guys are afraid to even accidentally brush up against another man, let alone hug one, and if you do find one that hugs, it's usually the "I'm not confident in my sexuality" hugger, where they shake one hand and reach around the back, sort of "half-hugging" with the other arm.
This is the fashion in which most of my friends choose to hug me, in general.
They’re all most likely closet gays, but whatever.

Real men hug from the rear.

While I’m on the subject of huggers, let me point out a few other notable hugger types.

One would be the "Back Patter Hugger", this type of hugger hugs you and just constantly pats your back with great force as if to dislodge a bone you may have swallowed and are currently choking on.
This hugger is also known as the "Heimlich Hugger".

Then you got the "Circle Rub Hugger".
This type of hugger hugs you with great enthusiasm and joy, but constantly rubs your back in a circle pattern, usually while the other hand is firmly rested behind your neck or upper back.
The circles are usually pretty wide circles, so there's a chance that you may have your lower back and/or ass circle rubbed in the process, but by the time your body reacts, your upper back is being rubbed and it's like an endless cycle of uncomfortable circle rubbing between your upper back and ass.
This particular hugger usually makes even the straightest men feel that their highly hetero boundaries were just crossed and are usually avoided or met with a firm handshake that says "stay the fuck back!".

The final hugger is what I like to call the "Nook Hugger".
Like the "Circle Rub Hugger", this hugger likes to make you feel as uncomfortable as all fucking Hell.
You’re not only going to be hugged and possibly circle rubbed; you're also going to have a man rest his chin into your neck nook.
That's the spot where your neck and shoulder connect, where a vampire would most likely bite you if he wasn't busy being hugged by this fucking circle hugger.
Nook Huggers wrap their arms around you then rest their chins into that little nook making you feel so god damned violated, but fully loved all at the same time.
When this guy is done hugging you, you've had your fill of hugs, forever and will most likely become a full on "I'm not confident in my sexuality" hugger.

The best huggers.

My point is this, these various hugs are the highest level and form of physical affection a man can bestow upon another man without being considered a homosexual by the general populace.

What are we supposed to do when a hug just doesn’t feel adequate enough to show your love for your fellow man?

Here’s one of my best friends on Earth, I love this guy, I feel that our current level of physical affection is insufficient, I want this to go deeper, but I don’t want people to think I’m gay.
God damn it, society, why have you backed me into this passionless corner where I feel constricted in my own body and also prohibited from displaying my immense love for another man?
I don’t want another fucking hand shake or hug, that’s not enough, FUCK!


That’s right, you heard me, I’m not a homosexual, but I love this motherfucker, I want to enter his loins and penetrate his flesh, be one with him. I want to parade around in his skin.

Put me inside of this son of a bitch.

Where we're going , we won't need roads, just a lot of these.

Sure, it sounds super gay, and it probably is pushing the very limits of heterosexuality as far as it can go, but fuck that, this is your bro, your pal, your bestie, your BFF, your nigga 4 lyfe.
Get inside that asshole right now!
Being inside of your best male friend symbolizes a union of two becoming one, like marriage, but with a same sex couple that isn’t gay, but is totally inside of one another.

Why can’t two guys penetrate each other without being homos?
What has society done to us where we think man love should have limits?

We're totally not gay.

The bible says man shall not lie with another man or some shit (unconfirmed) but says absolutely nothing about “Man shall not be inside another man, in any way, shape or form, heterosexually”. Nope, read it, nothing like that exists.
It’s a sexual loophole that men can exploit to fully explore their love for another man.

Your best friend might say he loves you, then solidify this love with a hug, HAHAHAHA, such bullshit.
His love for you is about as frail as his confidence in his sexuality.
He doesn’t want IN you, he just wants anything else that allows him to believe his own bullshit, he might as well salute you with his middle finger.
Not me, not your buddy Bronx.
I want to enter you; I want to stab my dick through your chest cavity so I can feel your warm heart beat around my penis.
I want to climb into your peephole and bask in the ambience of your loins.
I want to crawl up your butthole and perform swan dives wile jumping off of your prostate.
I want to share your blood alcohol level.
That is how much I fucking love you.

I love you this much!

Sure, we’re both guys, but who cares?
We’re in man love.
Don’t be judged by the rest, let me rest upon your man breasts.
Embrace me as I would you, INSIDE of each other.

Many of you will say “Bronx, this is gay, what the fuck is your problem?” but once I enter you, you’ll be a new man. You’ll change your homophobia laced view of the world, you’ll see that there shouldn’t be a capacity to how much one man can love another, you’ll see that the only way to fully traverse, to fully realize the bonds of love is by doing what is necessary, then you’ll say “Bronx, thank you for entering my shit, I fucking love you so God damned much, my man”.
You will.

Join me, my friends, let us enter each other.
Who’s first?
I have the lube and preparation for penetration.

Let’s fucking love each other, man.
In the ass.

Friday, May 27, 2011

Bryan Bronx's Supremely Awesome and Extreme Guide to Understanding Women.

From what I understand, (which is everything ) most guys these days are having a difficult time maintaining relationships or keeping their women happy, or not, I make up random facts sometimes to make myself seem smarter in comparison to others, don't fucking judge me.

Now, I'm not talking about in the bedroom, that's another issue you may have to work on, which could require hours of practice.
I recommend leather or latex and a wild imagination, but that's another story altogether, so fuck off.
I'm talking about understanding your woman, through and through.

See, women like to communicate with men using a series of signals with their body language and very few words, it's sort of a code speak, so to say.
Like during World War II, when the Navajo Native Americans were used to send messages to other areas of the military in order to set up some awesome fucking kills and to tell jokes White people couldn't get, about White people, it's the same thing with women, only difference being; your woman doesn't have a bad ass nickname like "Runs With Fire", well, she probably does, but for an entirely different reason, besides, there's only so many ways you can say "Fucking Slut Bag" in Navajo.

This doesn't make you native either, but makes a great bull’s-eye for skeet.

So your best pal, me (I only love you when you're dirty) has decided to scrape together my vast knowledge on everything "women" and share it with you so that you can stop fucking up your relationship.
Your girlfriend/wife is tired of your bullshit, man and you need to fucking recognize what you're doing wrong.
Don't believe me?
Ask her, she's lying right here, call me.

My guide will fully prepare you and get you on track with understanding the hidden meanings of shit women say but REALLY mean, you'll be reading between the lines like a fucking pro.

Trust me, there are two things I don't do: lie and steer people wrong, unless I'm giving directions to tourists, then I do both, but that's kind of funny anyway, right?

This movie was made in honor of my misguiding tourists antics.

So I'll focus on four easy scenarios that you may have encountered in the past, but sadly, without my tutelage, so you completely dropped the fucking ball there.
I'll start each topic with what you see as the scenario, then I'll follow it up with the actual translation of the event with the fucking TRUTH, or what you should see, but don’t, because you’re clueless.

I. Your woman asks you to do something immediately.

Here's the scenario.
You're sitting down on the couch in your underwear, playing Call of Duty, shoving chips into your face when your lady asks if you could throw out the garbage.

At this point, you're probably thinking to yourself; "God, she's such a nagging bitch" as you tell her that you'll do it as soon as you get to a save spot in the game while she gives you an icy look like she wants to fire laser beams through your chest cavity.

Here's what she REALLY means with what she asked of you using her body language to interpret, (i.e., the icy stare):
"Honey, when you're done being lazy and completely useless, but still staying sexy after gaining 200 pounds, would you mind throwing out the garbage please?
No rush, take your time; I know you're involved in something important and I'm just being a bitch.
I'll be cleaning the bathroom floor on my bare knees with a piece of steel wool in the meantime, have fun baby!!
Oh, and would you mind if I dressed like a secretary tonight?"

Since you didn't do the dishes either, come here big boy….

So you see, what you initially thought, was complete bullshit, you were being foolish.
You assumed she was nagging and bitching and commanding you around, when in fact, her motives were the complete opposite!
That "icy" stare you perceived as being harsh was actually her undressing you with her eyes.
You just got eye raped, my man!
This woman wants and has nothing but the best of intentions here.
Congratulations, you've just made it though part one of my tutorial and your relationship will only get better after a few more tender moments like this.
Let's continue.

II. Your woman would like for you to do more around the house.

Here's the scenario.
You go to work, come home, repeat. Everyday.
She says you don't do shit at home.
You don't do the laundry or wash the dishes or walk the dog, or hose down the kids and pets, whatever, she's got a list of shit you do not do and a face full of scowl to prove it.

You're thinking to yourself; "I work so hard all day, why do I have to come home and clean!?
She just does nothing but bitch and chew me out!
I wish she'd stop fucking making that stupid fucking face, she looks like Mr. Miyagi from the Karate Kid".

Pick this fucking place up or I'll make you break car windows.

Here's what she REALLY means with what she asked of you and her furious looking face:
"Welcome home, sweetie, I made your favorite dish, because I know you worked so hard at the office playing fantasy football all day and watching youtube videos.
When I say I want you to do more around the house, I just mean that I wish you'd be home more, maybe call out sick or take a small vacation so you can lie around all day and do nothing while I pick up the slack”

Do you see how far off you were with your assumptions?
Never assume, it’s the mother of all fuck ups.
I heard that in a Steven Seagal movie.

This guy has more wisdom than your alcoholic grandfather.

III. Your woman appears to be visibly upset about something.

We all know, when women are upset, they do not have the ability and/or capacity to express these feelings verbally because they fear that as soon as they begin talking, we will drift off into day dreams where we’re imagining that we’ve become deaf.
This is not true, we love hearing why you women are upset, in all honesty, I swear to God.
So with this in mind, they sit there, quietly, until they fall asleep and forget about it the next day.
They always forget.
One great thing about the fairer sex is that women never hold grudges, they’re pretty cool about getting over shit rather quickly and letting the past be the past in order to move on to a better tomorrow.

Your job in this situation is to ask her “what’s troubling you/why are you mad/upset/cutting your wrists?”
Women love being asked those questions, especially when they are asked as often and consistent as possible.
So follow one up after the other in great succession:
Are you mad?
Why are you upset?
What’s bugging you?
Why are you so angry?
What happened?
What did you do?
Why are you so quiet?
You mad?
You mad, brah?

Keep it going, they will take your constant questioning as a high interest in their feelings and thoughts and will eventually crack, then they’ll let you know what’s going on.
You’ll most likely all have a good laugh about it, it’s probably nothing.

HAHAHA, Breast Cancer?

IV. Your woman says she is not in the mood.

Know this, my befuddled friend, women are the men of females, they are always fucking horny.
Saying they are not in the mood is their way of telling you they want to be rammed like a metal door by the SWAT team at a crack house in the projects.
They just don’t want to seem easy or whorish because it isn’t lady like, so they act coy and it's all a ruse.

Here’s what you do, my simple homeboy.
She says she isn’t in the mood?
Fuck that.
You simply do the most logical thing to start this fire in her sugar walls, a woman’s favorite action performed by a man, the one thing guaranteed to work every time, proven throughout the ages with a zero failure rate; you place your bare penis on her shoulder or slap her on the cheek with it, lie it across her forehead, rub it on her lips, etc.
If ever there was a piece of advice you would consider taking from your amigo Bryan Bronx, this is it.
Women love nothing more than to be attacked by a man’s penis, because for them, it’s the equivalent of shaking hands with a celebrity, but with your dick.
Trust me.

Overcompensating? Maybe, but you get the idea.

I can’t count how many times women have thanked me after sex because I began it like so.
The number of times is astronomical.
It’s like the doorbell of intercourse.
Knock knock.
Who’s there?
This dick, baby.
You’ll be scoring so fucking often.

In closing, I want you to promise me that you won’t share this information with those that may abuse the privilege of knowing the God’s honest truth about women.
If anyone found out, they may change the game up and make me look like an asshole, then I’d have to write you a really angry letter.
Remember, this guy here loves you, that’s why I’m always going to be around to tell it like it is so no one steers you wrong, especially people with vaginas and tits.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

I Hate Your Face, Facebook. HAPPY FRIDAY!!

I'll keep this one short, because I'm lazy.

If you happen to be alive today and I'm sure you are, (unless you're dead, then high five for reading my shit in the afterlife) chances are; you have a Facebook page, and at this point in time, you also might be as fed up and annoyed as I am by the countless "IT'S FRIDAY!" posts that you see every Friday morning notifying you that it is in fact, Friday.
It's not just the Friday posts, though, oh no, these same people must announce every day of the week, each week, with pretty much the same comment they used last week. Like "fucking Mondays" and "Hump day" and "THIRSTY THURSDAY!".
(Don't get me started on the "have a good/blessed day" people or the penis heads who speak to Facebook as if it were an actual person (GOOD MORNING FACEBOOK!!!).
I guess we should appreciate the robotic dickheads who post these messages, because if it weren't for them, we would never know what day it is, what the weather is like outside (thanks for the snow photos too, assholes) or what current song is popular , even though it is constantly being circulated all over the internet, TV and radio.

Yes, according to your Facebook pals, you had no fucking clue today was Tuesday, stupid.

But they break the news first.
I can't count how many times I woke up and had no clue what the fuck was going on outside or what day it was until I logged onto Facebook and read their posts, which may or may not have saved my life.
It's a lifesaver.
I'm wearing snow boots because my friend Ron said it was snowing, I'm preparing for the weekend because Calvin informed me that it's Friday and I know who Kanye West is because at least 1,700 people posted his newest video.
So to the drones, I'd like to say "Thank you" for being informative, thank you for being obvious and stating the obvious and for being our human calendars and flesh reminders.
THANK YOU and God bless you.

Make sure it's set to "ON" for this.

Nah, fuck that, fuck you, fuck your mother, fuck your face and eyeballs with a gargantuan sized cock and fuck your sister.
I'm tired of the same shit, get new material, for fucking Christ's sake.

HAHAHA, blasphemy tickles!

Sure it's Friday, but be original, don't just say "it's Friday", you're now just like everyone else who say's it, say "going to get laid tonight, GANG RAPE FRIDAY NIGHT!" or say "Hope I don't end up in an alleyway with Vaseline in my butt crack again tonight, FRIDAY”, whatever, just fucking be clever, or original, or shut the fuck up if you can't do either.
No one will miss you.

Even that tree hates you, dick.

We know what's going on, you fucking twat bot, we don't need reminders, and if we do, that's why we have Cell phones, because they don't just help us add small numbers or tell people where we are in the city every twenty minutes via foursquare (which is something we all fucking love by the way), they also alarm us for reminders (if we get around to setting it and shit).
I'm actually hoping Facebook causes more home robberies because you deserve it if you're telling me where you are constantly for no apparent fucking reason.

Tom Just checked into "Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow Church". "Totally stealing this guy's shit, Facebook".

So with that said, I am renaming the days of the week and/or creating a new day of the week slogan, or whatever the fuck it's called, I don't give a shit, just mix it up a little,  before I stab my eyes out with a jagged dildo.

So from now on, the list below will be how the days of the week will go, at least as far as I'm concerned or until someone creative creates a new set, since it's vastly different from the monotonous shit I see daily.
In order to be innovative, we're going to keep it hood because it's clever, and edgy, and catches on faster and when people of color do something cool, White people think it's amazing, so there's that.
I'm trying to start a trend without singing or dancing here, so fucking work with me in order to save America.

Monday will be - Mug a Nigga Monday
Tuesday will be - Take yo shit Tuesday
Wednesday will be - We ballin Wednesday
Thursday will be - Thugged out Thursday
Friday will be - Forty ounce Friday.
Saturday will be - Suck a dude's dick Saturday
Sunday will be - Steal Shit Sunday

And there you have it.
You now have something new to say, beginning tomorrow.
Sure, I'm being unreasonable or overly bitchy for something so minute, but I got nothing better to do right now, so eat my tits.

Eat them, deep fried. They also have nice DSB's, wink wink. Use your imagination....

This message was brought to you by people who think you should be posting titty pictures instead of "HAVE A GOOD DAY!".

Friday, March 25, 2011

How to Feel Racially Superior and Bad Ass (Without Anyone Else Knowing).

I don't condone racism, in any way, you've all read that thingy I posted way back when, but I figured this can be your little secret. Our little secret, rather.
Crafty, huh?
Let's be completely honest here, whether you admit it or not, you feel that your kind is superior to other kinds because you hate the idea of being inferior, so fuck that, you're superior, TO ALL, regardless of what color, gender, race, creed, etc, you/they are (unless you're a Native American, then you're fucked).
If you don't feel this way, even in the slightest, then you're completely devoid of any racism and should ascend to Sainthood, even though you love anal sex and jerking off to your High School yearbook, but God will overlook that because you love everyone, you sick fuck.
Let us also state the fact that you are most likely a gigantic pussy who would never admit to having these semi-racist thoughts in public, especially in a group of diverse people, lest you get your ass whooped.
I'm not assuming you're a pussy and you may not be, but this topic, given the subject matter within, you would not say any of this shit in said group if you had a mouth full of shit, let's keep it real.

So, with that said, your buddy Bronx here is going to offer you some secret insider tips on how to display racial superiority over any and everyone, without getting your bigot ass kicked in.
In fact, my tips are so solid, that you'll be like, a motherfucking racist ninja!
You could probably form a racist secret society, but that's what congress is for, so skip that, and continue reading.
Note that if you get caught being racist, it's because you opened your god damned mouth, and deserve to get your ass pulverized.
You have to follow the steps and techniques I provide down to the motherfucking letter, otherwise, you're fucked and I'll deny it if anyone asks if I had any involvement in this shit and agree that you're a crazy racist, cross burning fuck head who loves hitting women and raping pillow animals.

You'd hit it.

I'm neither supporting nor defending racism, because I hate that shit, but at least you can feel good about yourself at the expense of others, you know, the American way.
Besides, this is the best way of figuring out ways to high five yourself and believe in your mind that you are THE SHIT.

Step 1 - Let successful White people do all the work in a revolving door.
This White guy makes more money than you, he drives a better car than you, his wife is hotter than your wife, his kids are smarter than your kids, he just beats your loser ass silly in just about everything in life.
There has to be a way to get this man to work for you without using an Infinity Gauntlet, right?
If you work in a city, particularly an office building, there's a pretty good chance that you enter and exit this building via revolving doors.
If you want to perform a massive attack of racial superiority here over the "MAN", I'm talking about one of the highest forms of expressing yourself, wait for a successful White man to prepare to exit the building, or two, hell, three , shit 2 or more and you're a regular fucking mental Malcolm X!
As they proceed to enter the revolving door on their way in or out,  quietly enter behind them as the doors begin to rotate, but DO NOT push on the doors in any way, let them do all the fucking pushing for you until you've made it completely out without lifting a finger.
As they push with all their White might, say to yourself "that's right, push this fucking door for me, White man, Push it until I'm clear, you motherfucker, you".
Not only did you just make the MAN work for you, but he had no clue he was your bitch the whole time!
Celebrate by going to Starbucks and doing the same shit to the Barista.

FASTER, you White bitch!!

Step 2 - Own the sidewalk.
This pretty much only applies to White people (or gigantic vaginas).
Sure, you guys probably feel socially and racially superior anyway, but there are still some areas where you guys feel inadequate when compared to say, Black guys.
Particularly in the pants and in the coolness genes.
Yes, it's all stereotypes, I know some of you white guys have big wangs and not all Black guys are tripods, but that doesn't stop you from crossing the street to the opposite side whenever one or more Black people are walking on your side of the sidewalk towards you.
The cool factor, I can't help with, you guys have to really work on being cool while it's just so natural for Black guys, sorry, it's fucking true.
Even lame Black guys are cooler by default, it's pretty fucked.

So here you are, walking down the block, when all of a sudden, this Black dude is walking towards you and in your mind, he's not just any Black dude, he's as big as Lawrence Taylor and as scary as Mike Tyson.
HOLY SHIT, Cross over, right? CROSS, He's getting closer!! He might steal your wallet or pound your vanilla face in or dunk you in a basketball hoop or challenge you to a freestyle rap battle. CROSS NOW!!

Fuck that, don't cross shit. It's potentially dangerous, you could get hit by a car and die or there could be like, four Black guys on the other side.
It also costs you valuable time, like, two whole minutes, which is a major loss to the White community.
You're going to march your lame, little dicked white ass straight through that block and keep your pale head high.
When you pass that Black guy, even though he really looks like this….

He can still kick your white ass.

...High five the fuck out of yourself.

Not only did you display racial dominance over that guy by not getting off of that piece of land like your ancestors did with Native Americans, you stuck it to him and showed him that you will not bend to his will, you will not give in to fear, because YOU are superior, you are better and you handed him his Black ass, and the best part is he doesn't even know it!
Be a real bad ass and think to yourself "Who's the pussy now??" as he walks away.
Use the word "Nigger" in your mind as freely as you'd like too, you fucking tough son of a bitch.

Step 3 - Make those delivery guys work their asses off.
If you live in New York City, there is a one hundred percent chance that the delivery guy is either Mexican or Chinese, so it's not as dominating when it's a third worlder because you're kind of winning there already, but if it's anywhere else, chances are it might be a young White guy delivering your shit, in which case, you're going to fucking score big for this.
I find that it's also most effective when you order the heaviest shit you can get, like a vase or two of flowers filled with water or forty bottles of soda or a few hundred 1+ pound steaks, or all of those at the same time.
You might argue that they end up coming to deliver these items using some type of mobile cart, but fuck that, do it, those carts usually have some really fucked up wheels anyway and chances are, it'll break on the way over causing him to have to drag the cart AND the heavy ass goods at the same time.

When they finally get to wherever you are, preferably a huge office building, have them drag the load to one location, only to bitch about how it needs to go somewhere else for some group of people who have moved to another location, he'll sigh in anguish but still smile as you smile over having the slave boy carry your shit.

Keep smiling; I'm not tipping you SHIT.

This can potentially go on for as long as you'd like, he has to make the delivery and his bill has to be signed and lord knows you do not have authorization to sign the bill so he has to carry that shit upstairs to the boss’s office to have that done.
Just keep telling yourself "this way, stupid, White (or colored) slave" and feel the surge of racial dominance course through your body, it feels like victory which feels like eating a handful of Wheat Thins.

Racial superiority - brought to you by Nabisco.

This guy will have no clue that he's been played and that the game being played was you being fucking racially superior to his ass in every way, what a pussy, right?
You just brought back slavery, in this guy's FACE.

See, there are countless other ways to triumph over other races and be dominant in the fight for mental domination, it all depends on how bad ass you are on the inside.

We know, you're about THIS bad ass on the inside.

I just can't list them all because I use them daily and don't want people to get wise on me.
Telephone tough guys are a thing of the past, all hail the age of the secret racists!

You are totally unlike these assholes, though.