THE LUWS STIKES AGAIN

Rob Talihan was talking the other day about how he visisted LA and felt he was the only dude to take public transportation AND actually walk around downtown. Apparently all he encountered were illegal immigrants, mental patients and straight criminals. I'm sure it was weird, but i still feel like nothing compares to the utter despair one encounters in the LUWS. In a fifteen minute stop at a bagel spot this Sunday i witnesssed:

5 Mentally ill Homeless dudes
4 Weird old white men with sweatpants and SEVERE limps
3 Midgets [seriously]
2 Amputees
1 Normal human being

Check out this nytimes article for direct coverage of the LUWS.

I'M NOT A SMART MAN, BUT I KNOW WHAT RAGE IS

Listen, I understand that people in offices have their own preferences when it comes to listening to music or the radio at work. Personally, I’m a News kinda dude…news is news, but people have very different tastes in music, plus bad songs are fucking horrible. Which brings me to this chick I work with. Every day without fail she puts the interent radio jumpoff on Lite FM. Hey, I’m no fascist, I can deal with some of those horrendous “hits,” i mean hey, at times it's better than listening to my deformed nose whistle and my other co-worker swallow his burps…but this site plays the exact same set of songs EVERY FUCKING DAY. Each day she puts the joint on and all of sudden she’s all surprised when Dido comes on… "oh I love this song”..really? you love it? Do you realize you’ve been listening to this song once or twice a day every day for the last month? Don't you see that you know all the words b/c you've been hearing it over and over and over. Fuck, i think i know all the words to that Mariah Carey joint. I’m going fucking crazy over here if I have to listen to another Bee Gees song….Christ almighty change the station.

BRMS SPECIAL REPORT

Once again, the diligent work of the good men at The Bro Report Ministry of Statistics has uncovered urgent information.

Since the emergence of The Bro Report there have been some remarkable and uncanny occurrences. As documented by DDD, there has been a steady rise in unemployment among Bro staffers. Oddly enough, another trend has emerged. It has come to the attention of The Bro Report statistical staff that an unprecedented FOUR bros have been dumped since the TBR went to print (These bros shall remain nameless, except for Paul because he straight deserved it). Did the commercial success go to their heads? Were the Bros revealing too much about their truly odd and at times nauseating behavior? Could it have been that Bro Report research trip to that whorehouse in Chinatown that did them in? Or was it the crushing embarrassment that these girls felt when they found out their significant other was……ewwww…..a blogger?????? Whatever the cause, these numbers speak for themselves:

(click on image for greater detail)

THE MAGICAL FRUIT

Aids? No cure. Cancer? Not yet. Bird Flu? Never heard of it......but honestly, who has time for such pursuits when scientists and doctors can be spending their time attempting to take the Fart out of a bean. I'm kinda psyched.

SAY IT AIN'T SO GRAY......SAY IT AIN'T SO.

SAVE YOUR LOOTCAKES

A few weeks ago a friend approached me and asked if I could "do her a favor." As soon as someone asks me this I'm real quick to change the subject as to avoid any sort of responsibility or semblance of a mature friendship. However, I was taken off guard and said, "sure, uhhhhh, yeah, I guess I can do you a favor." The favor she asked for was a little more reasonable than I thought, but absurd nonetheless.

Her: "Can you and a few of your friends auction…
Me: "No chance"
Her: "…yourself off for a charity auction?"

I later told her I'd think about it, and what I did was truly think why a random girl would spend a dime to hang out with a bro like me. I don't know what your sales pitch is, but Here's mine:

Hey ladies, I'm about 5'9," graduated from law school but I deliver mail for a living and live with my mother and her guido boyfriend. I'm starting to get a little hair creeping up on my shoulders. You can often find me blacked-out drunk, arguing with bartenders because they think my 50 cent tip was "rude." I might have lied to a bunch of your friends, and possibly slept with one of em. That shirt I gave her to wear home is my least favorite and well-worth not having to ever speak to her again. I can't afford to take you out to dinner, pay for drinks, and/or have a normal conversation without an ungodly amount of alcohol. My t-shirts are extra-small and those holes are legitimately chew holes from mice. My hands shake uncontrollably. I have a small case of little man's disease which often leads to perpetual black eyes…for me. I have a decent criminal record, and am no longer allowed in an entire county in Southern Mississippi….(can't say I'm really mad at that). Last week a cab dropped me off in the pouring rain on 145th Street and Broadway after I couldn't afford to pay him the $30 dollar fare: I'm still not sure what's more embarrassing, walking home in the pouring rain after getting chastised by a cab driver named Sammy Boutros, or having to ask my mom to write out a $30 check and mail it to my man Boutros. Did I mention I live with my moms? I genuinely hate when people walk in front of me, behind me, or next to me. Besides all that, I'll treat you right…lets start the bidding!!!

I'M GOING UNDER THE KNIFE

Bro's, I have made a momentous/courageous decision. Being that I currently have health insurance, [and we all know that's not gonna last] - I have decided to have surgery to repair my deviated septum [aka broken beak]. See, the problem is my nose looks like that ill crumpled joint on the left, as opposed to the adorable staright joint on the right. I learned that after breaking my nose multiple times through years of using it to catch basketballs, footballs, fists, elbows, the occasional metal pole and a door or two, I had basically destroyed my ability to breath like a normal human being. And while the injury did provide me with super human strength in one nostril, [I constantly blow out candles on dinner tables, not the candles in front of me, but the ones two tables down] it also prevents me from breathing 90% of the time, while causing me to snore like a Wildabeast One Hundred Percent of the time. And although I am nervous about the surgery, I went to the Doctor yesterday and he eased all of my fears. In fact he had some crazy computer jumpoff that actually created a model of what I will look like post surgery......................peep it:

KKAAAAZZZAAAAAAAMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!



















Fuck all ya'll ugly mutherfuckers...

The Most Horrible Noise Ever

Since moving to NY to be closer to The Bro Headquarters, the main branch of The Bro Industries LLC, I have encountered noises that I was never aware of while living in far off places around the globe. New Yorkers are used to these constant sounds; you know the usual ambulance, fire truck.... the music blasting out the corner bar. These are normal noises in NYC.

However, last Sunday I experienced a sound that has changed my life forevcr, and has been haunting me ever since. The one day of the week I look forward to is Lazy Sundays. Bros have been known to be napping in their beds on Sundays well past 3 pm on the regular.

So last Sunday- while sound asleep, yours truly, Davey Boy was startled at 10 am by a strange and unfamiliar noise.... Is that Joe enjoying some afternoon delight in the next room? Pretty gross, but No. This sound is coming from below. Are two water buffalo wrestling downstairs? Probably not. And then I realized....... it was my Gay downstairs neighbor getting down with his new Boyfriend (who was the feminine one). Not only was I not happy, I was shocked. (I don't think any human has made a face that expressed the combination of horror/surprise that i experienced, the image above was the closest thing to it.) I realized i was hearing groans and grunts coming out of two grown men downstairs....with very different pitched sounds, a low one and a high one...... On a SUNDAY Morning Bro!!! That is NOT cool. In fact, it was enough to switch me over to the other side when it comes to gay marriage. This Bro would say if it sounds that wrong, then it is most definitely WRONG!!!!!
-Daveyboy [nohomophobe]

MY TEQUILA ALLERGIES ARE ACTING UP

Lately Bro's have been steady stickin' to beer and scotch at the bar. It's all you really need in your repetoire. Maybe a glass of wine here and there, but the beer and whiskey covers all bases, it can be sophisticated and classy, manly and rugged, or even sloppy if you so desire….I've become pretty accustomed to the type of drunk I become off the beer and scotch combo…and you know what? I like it. Its not a violent drunk [unless you're drinking jack and/or Jim Beam-that's a different story], and I generally become a laid back peaceful and generally happy Bro. Not to say that things don't get out of hand every now and then, but hey nobodies perfect. Unfortunately, I recently realized what happens when I stray from the usual formula. You see last Tuesday night Paully, EvRocker and I got Tequila drunk. Not the "I took a shot of tequila and feel woozy"-but the "i just drank an entire bucket of extra strong margaritas" – jump off. Let me remind all of you out there in case you forgot: the tequila drunk is not a good look. Let me describe it for you. First off you get the permanent squint in one eye, and apparently one of your legs shrinks considerably because you will be stumbling and swaying immediately. There is actually no possible way to prevent yourself from being completely horizontal at some point in the night. And to those around you it will seem as if you've been shot out of the creep cannon only to land in the middle of a crowded bar like a drunk mexican peasant rockin a fresh poncho and a silly Mexican grin. For some reason your shoelaces automatically become untied and a permanent wet stain/spill/drool develops somewhere on your shirt/poncho. You will seriously terrify all females around you, accuse bartenders of being rude for not accepting your 50 cent tip, and somehow find yourself folded up and asleep in the corner of the 1 Train. Of course, you'll wake up drunk off your ass, still rockin' that tequila poncho and call in to work complaining about "allergies" and mistakenly call your Human Resources manager "sweetheart" at the end of the message.

STRAIGHT UP CRIMINALS

The world is full of all kinds of criminals: dudes who tried to steal your bus pass in 8th grade, Ken Lay, Child Molesters, Republicans. But I would argue there is no colder a criminal than the real estate agent. Recently me and my girl have been looking at apartments like it's our job, and have run into various criminals along the way. One set of brothers who straight up tried to rob each other over the sale, a landlord who could raise your rent $500 if you gave the shit in the 2nd of the month, and then there was "Josh."
So me and my girl we were waiting on this corner for an agent who was already 25 minutes late, which was not too crispy since it was a cold cloudy shitty day, where a Bro is just trying to nurse this hangover with the crisp netflick/popcorn/cherry coke jumpoff. So we're waiting and I see this massive "tool" walk by wearing sunglasses, a tie and blazer and jeans, and generally looking preposterous. So I think, "man, dudes around here really look straight foolish." 2 seconds later the phone rings, the moron in question was none other than the agent Josh [no relation to the one and only Peesky]. In my head the word "Herb"just kept repeating. I keep old school in my unspoken insults. So he then rolls into what looks like a straight abandoned storefront. That joint was out of the 1970s South Bronx; and comes through with some keys. I expect the worst, but the apartment was a beast, and me and Erin decide to holla. So after a few days of mad phone calls from the "j man", as I've taken to call him. Each phone call costing more money with some random new fees involving the lease. leaving me feeling like, yo instead of ringing whenever the j-man calls it should make a cash register sound ala Pink Floyd's "Money." So we sign this lease and go to meet the landlord. We roll back to the abandoned storefront mentioned above. We enter, and the inside perfectly matched the outside. Literally nothing is for sale in there, save for 2 packs of 9 volt batteries, and maybe lotto tickets, although that lotto joint looked very broken. Random trash is laying about and one out of every four light blubs is working.
Then I meet a 150 year old (at least) Arab man who looks like he has been crying (I don't think he was but it really looked like it) and definitely has vitaligo. He gives me such a weak-slash-weird handshake, that it might have been my first homosexual experience. My girl gets no handshake, no anything, and is basically immediately debowed outta the conversation for being a woman. So as he tells me about which days to put out recycling, blah, blah ...and I start noticing pics all over the wall, not of family or friends, but of straight up dictators. The first couple are horrible but normal: Bush, Cheney, Delay, Gulinani. But then it starts getting weird, I'm almost positive your man Idi Amin was up there. It's one thing is have war criminals that history has yet to judge (i.e. the Bush Clan), but to have dudes who are known mass murdering villains is, to say the least, a little weird. So as we breakout Josh says peace to dude and said his name, but I couldn't quite catch it, did he call him "Charlie"?, nah it was probably some weird foreign shit I misheard.
So I ask Josh outside the guy's name figuring I'd have to work hard to remember his weirdo name... But Josh tells me his name and it's ... MR. CHARLIE. This 80 year old crying, disfigured Arab man is named MR. CHARLIE, if that's not poetry I don't know what is.

damn, grandpa!

man, this russian dude is still making it happen with the ladies. but the whole garlic thing is a little sketchy though. check this dude out on the link. that is my grandpa looking real stern.
http://www.ananova.com/news/story/sm_1764659.html?menu=news.quirkies.sexlife

Heavily Focused

“Whoa whoa whoa, what are those? Hold up man, I ain’t never seen no baby blue gingham check joints before. Where’d you get those? Um, Creative Recreation? Damn, I might have to check them dudes out. Looks like they are doing their thug thizzle. Yeah a little bit. Left here? Yeah I would say those kicks are heavily focused. I don’t say too many things are heavily focused, cuz in bro infested neighborhoods, that’s like the highest of the high. But I’m feeling them. Your ankle game is nervous though; you might want to pull your shoes up a lil bit. Aww just joking don’t be so touchy. What? Get your damn feet off my divider then.”

So sayeth the cab driver.

Photo courtesy of joe joe.

.i had to do it.

What is the deal with bros lookin' fuckin' crazy....... And other bros lookin' real scared......

Bro Paul has sure been known to flick nasty ones at your face if you insult him in anyway whatsoever. Watch out now!

That girl on the right is straight up flat-chested. Damn, and remember she had the crazy facial hair..... What was her name again?
Bros countin' loot cakes ain't nothin' new. Double Bros lookin' for that dt sliding through the block ain't nothin' new to us.



remember that night we were chilling at APT with that cool dude John Turturro.
so right before i took this photo i said "ok guys, show me your mean face!"

IS THIS THE REAL JOE?

I was in Amsterdam almost 5 years ago. I was only there for a couple hours on a layover heading to Paris but i managed to get really high and do some typical stupid tourist shit. I went to the sex museum and then the wax museum. I don't rememeber much about the sex museum but i remember being really stoned and weirded out at the wax museum. What freaked me out was that besides your celebrity wax figures they also had replicas of normal everyday looking folks. I would look around and anyone who wasn't moving at the time could totally have been made of wax. I didn't know, or couldn't tell who was real and who wasn't. I know there are a lot more crazy -i'm so fucked up stories that people have about amsterdam, like daveyboy who took a bunch of shrooms and borrowed some hippie artist's markers and despite no artistic talent whatsoever produced a work of art so breathtaking that people gathered around in the cafe and argued over who could keep it, or when davey got pulled up onstage at a sex show and had some transvestite/hooker draw a heart on his chest with the marker wedged in his/her vagina-but i digress. If Joe had a wax figure of himself it would look like this and it would scare the shit out of people.

ANOTHER TROPHY FOR THE BRO REPORT MANTLE

While several members of TBR's staff find themselves lamenting their position in life and crying into their pillows at night, it's good to know that some dudes on the staff are doing their goddamn thang. Peep Bro-tributer Salvi [center]. He deserves some respect as his squad just won the Italian basketball league championship [bro-tributing 14 points in the victory.] Salvi has graciously reported to the Italian press that his emergence this season as a dominant force can be attributed to all the offseason work he put in with The Bro Report's Brooklyn YMCA summer squad [thanks for the shout]. Despite all his success, he remains humble, so humble in fact that you will probably find him crashing on a couch in the NYC area for the entire summer. Peep his blog: That Man Salvi for more pictures from the championship game. Congratulations Bro.

ICE CREAM BEATS FOR THE STREETS

NYTimes: "The mayor also overhauled the city's noise code for the first time in three decades, taking aim at loud nightclubs, barking dogs and even that staple of summer, the Mister Softee jingle..."

Hold up bro, I sorta got over the whole smoking ban, and the sick $2 cigarette tax, but I think you went a little overboard my man. MISTER SOFTEE???? How are you gonna take away one of the truest voices of the streets. More importantly, how the fuck am I gonna know when I'm about to cop a tasty snowcone or that toasted almond jump-off if I can't even hear my man Mr. Softee's beats. Why do you hate ice cream and tasty treats so much Bloomberg?? What about it scares you?? Were you too busy getting duffed out by the other kids in the park to ever catch up to the Mr. Softee truck? Did the other kids laugh at you and call you ugly while they ate their snowcones? It truly boggles the mind how much of an asshole our Mayor is. All I'm saying is my man Bloomy sees no kind of "noise" issues with installing cellphone reception in the subway, but loses his shit when he hears that catchy little Softee jingle. Its clear that Bloomberg owns a few dozen cell-phone companies, but I dare to ask: does he own any stock in Mister Softee???? Doubt it. Bloomberg is a vicious businessman who fuckin hates ice cream and all the little Dominican kids who chase after that truck. Hey Bloomberg, you rich racist shit, not everyone orders their ice cream from Fresh Direct, some of us gotta keep our ears to the streets. Fuck you Bloomberg, I should be able to hear my snowcones coming a mile away. I know one thing, Bloomberg may silence that push over Mr. Softee but i wouldn't step to Brooklyns finest, The Kool Man [aka the M.O.P of the ice cream truck game], cause' he ain't going out without a fight....

THIS SHIT IS TOO CRAZY TO FORGET

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WHITE PEOPLE ARE EVIL MIXTAPE VOLUME: 3

I'm not a rich man. And every day at work i'm reminded of this as I pass a Ferrari dealership on my way to the 5 dollar rice and beans spot. It amazes me day in day out there are dudes inside the showroom checking these cars out and actually considering buying one. I'm eating beans for lunch and these guys are buying $500,000 dollar cars for lunch.I always wonder, "who are these people?"........But then i realized who they are: Evil white dudes like this jerk [Retiring Exxon CEO Lee Raymond]. While every douche in America is gonna be paying 4$ a gallon at the pump this summer you should rest easy knowing that this dude just copped the quick 400 MILLION DOLLAR retirement package. That's something like 150,000 a day or 6,000 dollars an HOUR. Thinking about it just makes me want to slap this guy straight across his gross neckbag. 400 million dollars? Come on Bro.

HAPPY EASTER... stop crying you little bitches.

GOOD TIMES, BAD ART

I’m truly tired of listening to people say that you can’t compare or judge art. BULLSHIT. Some of that shit straight sucks, and you shouldn’t feel weird or alienated for believing so. Why is it that people look at you like a retard who just threw mayonnaise all over the picture and/or sculpture, when you simply say, “damn, that shit really sucks.” People are cool with judging books, movies, shows, PEOPLE, and all other kinds of shit, but when you attempt to say that some asshole artist really has no skill whatsoever, they look at you like you just shit your pants. Fuck you….that art sucks. I came to this realization last year when I was working at this gallery, where they were showing some abstract French artist's absurd drawings, which he refused to show unless accompanied by a “monotone symphony.” Basically, he would only hang up his drawings if there was a single piano chord being played CONSTANTLY throughout the gallery. Are you serious bro? Your drawings and retarded symphony is making my face hurt. People would come into the gallery and have weirdo pretentious conversations about the true meaning of the piano chord. Its so bad and nonsensical…SHIT, IT MUST BE GOOD!!! Wrong again…your art sucks. I was proven right when a mother brought her 3 year-old kid into the gallery, whereupon listening to the “symphony” and looking at the drawings he started laughing HYSTERICALLY. That’s right, this kid saw straight through the pretentious bullshit and came with that super un-filtered reaction. That’s why kids are the truth, they’ll hit you with that no-nonsense, damn your art really sucks a penis type reaction. This is why I’m cool with little kids. Except that one little dude in my elevator who looked up at me and told his mom that I had a weird shaped head. Fuck that little kid. I wonder if he still thought I had a weird shaped head after I put him and his mom in a straight-up full-nelson….doubt it.

NEW STUDY FROM BRMS

The Bro Report Ministry of Statistics has uncovered a new and disturbing correlation between the frequency of bro participation, and bro gainful employment.

Months of comparitive research tracking key bros support the findings. As evidenced by the graphic at right. A mild spike in posting is often followed by a drastic decrease in employment, which is in turn flowed by an explosion in posting.

On another note, the good folks over at NASA seem to have had the bros in mind when preparing this helpful document on how to save yourself in the event you have fallen into a large bottle of Johnny Walker Black.

Have you seen this face?

There are few things that are more destructive to ones reputation at work than the hangover face. You know what I’m talking about, coming into that joint all bleary eyed, looking like you just escaped from one of them Matrix incubation pods. Just having ripped the whiskey IV out and shit. You can’t pull it off, even if you shower twice and put on the crispiest outfit you own. THEY ALL KNOW YOU WERE HAMMERED LAST NIGHT. Look at those bags under your eyes. Can you even open your eyes? Jesus man. Is that a drool stain on your chin? Looks like the salt flats. And yo, if you don’t think your breath is thorough right now, you are wilding. For serious, you should have called in sick bro.

It's a Dealbreaker

Being the least employed bro on Manhattan Island, I’ve been watching a lot of TV. Did you know that Bush said today that tactical nuclear strikes are on the table as a way to deal with Iran? That shit is crazy to me, because we have already caused enough trouble in that neighborhood. And using nuclear weapons is ridiculous under any circumstance I can think of. Except one. There is one place in the world for which I think it would completely reasonable to call in a nuke strike. That place is 27th street between 10th and 11th avenues. There is no other place with such a high concentration of door men, jelled hair, shaved chests, Aldo boots, Seven Jeans, fake tits and general house music, bridge and tunnel fuckery in town. On a recent night, a couple of us bros were tricked into going into a club on this block that they shut down (they shut down the block on the weekends people!) because of the high concentration of aforementioned wackness. How did we get tricked you ask? Because there were girls and free booze fuckface, why else? After having to fight my way to the doorman, we were told that the club was shut for the night. This is the stupidest thing in the world, seeing how it was 1 and joints don’t close until 4. That may change when they officially make that block and annex of New Jersey, where bars close at 2. We finally made it inside to the drinks and the girls, just to realize that even though some of them were fly, we had absolutely nothing to say to them, because they all really liked the house music that was playing. And as my man paully p says, “If a girl likes house music, it’s a deal breaker”. I couldn’t agree more paully!
So let’s not waist nukes on some far away country that doesn’t affect our quality of life right now, let’s call in the bunker busters on a real threat: Chelsea club block 27th and 10th.

BEING A MORON IS DANGEROUS

The other day I took some time to enjoy the spring weather and get some sun on my beak. I was kickin' it on this rock in central park reading the paper and people watching. There happened to be this young couple sitting next to me and I found myself listening to their conversation cause ima creep like that. They were sitting smoking cigarettes blah blah blah...Then the chick gets the genius idea to take a match and [over her boyfriends protest ] light a paper bag on fire. I guess she was a complete retard because she seemed genuinely surprised when this bag actually started to burn...After a bit of hesitation she got the even better idea of blowing on the burning bag to put it out....Well this obviously causes the bag to become more engulfed in flames...The boyfriend is annoyed and says something like "what the fuck? My hot dogs in that bag!" so now he starts blowing on the bag b/c apparently he's retarded as well. Finally he stands up and frantically begins stomping on the paper bag to put out the fire and destroys his lunch in the process. The dude was definitely pissed, and was giving his girl the "I told you so stupid" - look. Two seconds later the dude starts weirdly yelping and out of nowhere his entire pant leg shoots up in flames! He hops around for a second then takes his pants off [revealing a pair of super dorky cartoon boxers], starts stomping on them, and finally pours out his vitamin water all over the smoldering pants. At this point I'm hysterically laughing. The guy is standing in his underwear shaking his head and is straight furious at his girl. She looks at him like "what the eff just happened" and offers the faintest hint of a smile and my man just loses his shit. "Don't you fuckin' laugh. Don't even smile. This IS NOT Funny, I could have been seriously hurt. First you lit the bag on fire, then I smashed my hot dog and then my pants caught on fire and now my leg is burned- so don't fucking laugh." Oh man it was amazing. You never know what's gonna happen when you try to tan your beak.

DUDES ARE ALL BUSINESS ... WHAT CAN I SAY

So a couple of weeks ago I hired a financial consultant (H&R Block) to look over my assets. It made me realize it was high time for me to get my financial house in order. So I set a meeting with both my financial advisor (Daveyboy) and my lawyer (Dannyfresh) at my office (the subway station), we discussed the future fiscal year's budget based, in part, on the prior year's spending as a predictor. My advisor was impressed with my fiscal discipline, based on the budget described below:

Yearly Income	$39,000
Rent(that is when I had an apt., I'm currently homeless)	($6,600)
utilities	($480)
Clothing(I'm homeless and I look it)	($200)
Music (I've cut this down quite a bit cause I mean the older you get .. You just look at dudes and are like .. Wait you play guitar for a living?!)	($1,000)
Books (it's called a library, fuckface)	($100)
NY Times	($494)
cigarettes	($2,555)
Beer	($10,000)
Chinese Food	($14,200)
SAVINGS (aka "Money in the Bank, yeah"):	$$$3,371

Peep Some Photos

Look out now....Queen's Pawn got straight paparazzi-ed this recent saturday....go to www.joedelanoimages.blogspot.com to see some more....

PEACE OUT DOUCHEBAG

"He pulled me aside and said that at our conference he had finally made a decision that was going to be difficult for him to announce but that God wanted him to get out of that race", Rev. Rick Scarborough, founder of Vision America on Delay's retirement

Dear God,
Thank you for answering my prayers ... However, you kinda got it wrong: I asked that he never be born, and short of that ... that he be killed in a slow and painful manner, but I guess retirement is a close third ... so thanks for hollering at dude for me, good looking out troop ...

REPORT FROM JERK TOWN USA

The weekly report from Jerk Town USA begins today: With THIS teacher who tried to swat a fly on his desk with a 40 millimeter round that he was using as a paperweight [It's the wide joint all the way to the right]. Look at how big it is compared to a normal bullet on the far left. Dude didn't think it was still live.....Sorry buddy.

DON'T GET FOLDED UP

If I was part of a culture that revered old people, say like, Asian cultures, I wouldn’t write this shit, but since I’m just a regular dude from 1-2-5, ima go head and say old people are the worst, and old Jewish people are the worst of the worst. My building has a good share of senior citizens, a good portion of which are white. My main beef with these old people is the fact that they walk DUMB slow. Not only are they stupid slow, but when I walk by, they stop in their slow ass tracks, clutch their belongings and stare as if my average rate of walking is some sort of unbelievable and terrifying physical feat. Listen old man, the slight breeze I create when I walk by you is not gonna topple you over. And believe me, if I WAS gonna body-slam you, you’d only realize it while you’re looking down from the afterlife at your folded up little body, so there is no need to stop and stare. Also, I haven’t seen a bag/purse snatching since ’88, so relax yourself bro. Of course, it doesn’t end here…you see, it’s the old, sour-faced Jewish dudes that really annoy the shit out of me. Example: I’m waiting for the bus across the street from my building (yeah, I still take the bus…I told you before… I’m livin the American dream), and this little, old, sour-faced Jewish lady walks right up to me and STRAIGHT LEANS ON MY SHOULDER. The bus stop is completely empty and she’s all up on my bozac like there isn’t room for two. So I take a few steps to the side, and what does this lady do??? She decides to slide over as well, and practically rest her frumpy little head on my arm….come on lady!?!? Bottom line….i’m not above folding up senior citizens, so step off the bozac. By the way, none of this applies to old Asian people…those dudes are real official. They’re like 200 years old and you don’t even know it…plus they’ll fold you up just for looking at them the wrong way.

MY DAD WAS A FARMER YOU RACIST

Today I'm at work going through all these boxes of files with my co-workers when we come across this file folder full of your average stupid corporate white guy jokey things .... So first this African woman i work with finds and reads this joke, starts chuckling and then passes it to me. Now the joke is right in front of me, and everyone else eagerly stands around me to read it. It should be noted that I am white and everyone else in my office is black. The joke goes like this:

The Farmers Divorce Case:
A farmer walked into his attorney's office wanting to file for divorce.
The attorney asked "May I help you?"
To which the farmer replied "Yea, I want to git one o'those dayvorce thangs."
The lawyer said "Do you have any grounds?"
"Yea" the farmer replied, "I've got 140 acres"
"No, I mean do you have a case*?" responded the lawyer.
"Naw, I ain't got a case, but I got a John Deere" said the farmer. [*Case is a tractor brand you Yuppie jerks]
"No, No, No, you don't understand, I mean do you have agrudge?" asked the lawyer.
"Sure do, that's where I park my John Deere."
The lawyer then said "No sir, I mean do you have a suit."
To which the farmer replied "Yep, I got a suit that I wear to church every Sunday."
The attorney then decided to try a different tack, "Does your wife beat you up or anything?"
"Nope" said the farmer, "we both get up around 4:30."
The attorney then said "Well is she a nagger or something?"
The farmer then perked up and said "Naw, she's a little white gal, but our last child was a nagger and that's why I want the dayvorce."
Ok. At this point does Danny:
a.] Laugh Uncontrollably and then get smacked in the back of the head by a co-worker
b.] Laugh and then pretend that it was a cough/throat clearing, and excuse himself to the bathroom
c.] Furrow his brow and act as if he doesn't understand
d.] Slowly sink into his chair holding his breath until all the surrounding co-workers burst into laughter allowing for the politically-correct-careful smile.

If you guessed d. then your are correct. Which makes me think that maybe I should have been offended at the joke making fun of white people.

Leprechaun or Crackhead?

Ain’t that some shit

GETTING OLD SMELLS

If it wasn't enough to have steadily graying hair, a mediocre dead end job, and a growing belly to make me feel like I'm getting old, last week I got the most clear sign ever. It's no secret to Bro' s that I believe all aging white men smell like sandwhich meat. That's right. Cold cuts. Well on Friday I was sitting at my desk doing something so mindlessly boring that I almost forgot to breath, when suddenly this chick in the office starts looking around all startled. She scrunches up her nose and points it in the air. sniff. sniff. This immediately makes me nervous because my nuerotic jewish half automatically thinks I smell, or stepped in shit or something. Well, she sniffs around for a couple more seconds -getting closer and closer to me- and then asks, "Are you eating bologna?" What? I got so heated. Sarcastically I replied, "Nah, but I stuffed a few slices in my pocket before I left the house...." Yo, you see me sitting here, I'm not hiding a bologna sandwhich in my jacket. I got both hands right here shuffling papers up and down and all around - NOT eating a mysterious lunch meat, stop trying to play me. Damn. I bounced from work and showered as soon as I got back to the crib, But it was too late. Damn Danny...you got that bologna smell.

Doing the Knowledge- Google's Word of the Day

Not to get poltical (particularly when its old news), but I wanna straight up defenestrate this dude

Home of the Original Gunclappers

So on Monday night the block got hot ... I was standing by the window at my girlfriend's house about 12:30 (definitely not chiefing this stog out the window) ... Then I hear arguing... my ears perk up, cause when you're standing outside a window at 12:30 on a Monday night that shit is NOT crisp, and you know you could use some excitement...
"eff u asshole", "go fuck yourself etc." then a "Pop" "Pop" ... Which I instantly recognized from my gang-banging days as the sounds of gunfire ... So I stand there for a minute and was like "yo did someone just get straight up merked on this pussy ass block...
My suspiscions where confirmed by the sound of a helicopter and the blue and whites of the po-pos. I look outside and there were like 47 cop cars out there. I thought about going outside to see the scene but I was raised that when you hear gunfire you run away.
The next day I hollered at the Mayor of the block, this dude "Shy" who works at the corner store (i.e selling the local teenagers beer, cigarettes, and condoms), and knows every dude who lives or hangs out in a 2 block radius.
Me:"Hey dude what happened last night?"
Shy:"So these two guys tried to rob some guy, then the cops rolled up on that shit in progress, and the kids shot at the cops and cops shot back."
Me:"they bag the dudes?"
Shy:"yeah they caught the kids, crazy right?!"
Me:"Word"
Then I hear that one of the robbers ran into a bar a block away and there was DT (undercover) in the pod, now that's some bad luck.Fun Fact: New York Hardcore Legend Alan Cage (Burn, Beyond, Quicksand, Seaweed, etc.) was at the bar.