Prop 8? Totally Great!

Sup brohams? So, in case you don't keep up with politics and shit, there have been two pretty huge news items lately.
A) Our next president is totally a Black guy, and his middle name is Hussein! I hear a lot of dudes who wear neckerchiefs and girls with floppy hats jawing on about how awesome it is. On the other hand, my mom totally called me on election night, sobbing and freaking out, because she says that Barack Obama is going to dye everyone's skin black and sell half of us to the Chinese as slaves. Me? I'm not excited, but I'm not freaking out either. Because I bet Barack Obama is actually Dave Chappelle in a rubber mask. I'm being totally serious. Think about it - Dave Chappelle goes off the radar completely, cancels his show, moves to South Africa and probably became one of those dudes on National Geographic that ties rocks to his shlong - or did he? I bet on the day of inauguration, right when he officially becomes the President, Barack Obama will rip off his rubber mask, and reveal himself, and yell "Surprise, Niggas!" And then our National Motto will be "I'm Rick James, Bitch!" That would be awesome!
B) There is a huge fucking broo-ha-ha in regards to the fact that gay dudes can no longer get married in California - and guess who's limp-wristed, cum-gargling roommate is totally pissed about this? You guessed it! Dave Newlin!
A couple weeks ago, I was flipping the channels, waiting for The Simpsons to come on and right there on the TV news was Dave Newlin at the Mormon Temple in Salt Lake City, holding up a big sign that said "EQUAL RIGHTS FOR ADAM AND STEVE" on it. I texted Cody right away and told him to turn on the TV - as far as I'm concerned seeing Newlin in congregation with a bunch of other stool-pushers, getting their panties in a wad over something stupid like a wedding cake with two grooms on it, is like an official document from Dave Newlin, signed by a notary public and everything, that says he loves to go ass to mouth.
When Newlin got home that evening, I told him I saw him on TV. And he was all like "Yeah, this whole Prop 8 thing is ridiculous. The Government's job is to regulate trade and protect our land and provide public services like schools and free clinics and things. It has no business making decisions based on personal morals." And I was like, "Okay, but I mean, like God made men AND women. You know? How would we keep the human race going if everyone just decided to be gay dudes, or dykes." And he was all like "There are six billion people in the world. If anything, we need less people breeding, not more." And I can see that, because, like, I fucking hate traffic and shit, and the less people there are in the world, the faster it is on the freeway. And also, standing in line at the movies, or at Lagoon, would probably be less annoying. And while I was thinking about how awesome it would be if it were, like, me, Cody, and Cooter, and some real slutty chicks who had their uteruses ripped out by a doctor (we'd have to have a doctor, too, I guess, and a chef, and someone who knows how to work computers) and we'd all be the last people on earth, cause everyone else went queerbones on each other and died out, like the dinosaurs - while I was thinking about that, Dave Newlin was like "Look, the issue here is one of equality in rights. Gay people have all the duties attached with citizenship in this country - a homosexual gets drafted, they go to war. They called into jury duty, they have to go. They have to observe the same speed limits and pay the same taxes. If they have all the duties that go with citizenship, then they should have all of the rights and personal freedoms and whatnot." And that's when I came up with a solution to this whole mess - in exchange for banning gay marriage, we tell everyone in the U.S. who's gay that they don't have to go jury duty anymore. This would be a win-win for everyone, because then I don't have to worry about going to a Salt Lake Bees game and seeing that someone has arranged for the scoreboard to read "Andrew, will you marry me - Lance". And then I puke chili dog all over the place, which is the worst thing to puke, right after spaghetti.
But also, they don't have to go to jury duty. And I'd win at that one too, because let's say I get busted for like pressing my flesh rat up against Cooter's window as a practical joke - only this time, he presses charges. And I'm at the court and the jury is made of all gay guys, and they're going to find me guilty, not because of evidence or witness testimony, but because I'm wearing, like, pleated chinos or something, and they're out of style. Then I'd go to jail - and, shit, you know what happens in jail. I've seen a lot of movies about that kind of shit, where they make a dude toss a salad, or they just up and ass-rape him in the middle of the night. But if gay dudes would accept my offer - no marriage in exchange for no jury duty - then, I wouldn't have to worry about it. I bet a lot of those dudes in a normal jury would be total brohams about the whole thing.

Dave Newlin's Eating Habits? The Key to his Gayness.

Dave Newlin eats a lot of weird shit. I don't mean, like, that I've come home at two in the morning and caught him rim-jobbing a burly UPS Delivery Man with an ass like a plump Christmas ham or anything. I just mean that he likes to eat really bizarre foods. Like, for some reason, he puts Funyuns on everything. Even on a pepperoni pizza, I saw him one time crumble some Funyuns on it before he put it in the oven. Or, like, I saw him mix some Barton's with some vailla ice cream in a blender and then he dipped funyuns in that. And I'm all like, thinking, "Dude, Anderson Cooper is not going to want to french kiss you if you keep eating that weird shit, and get the Funyun and Tuna Cassarole breath."
Also eggs. Dave Newlin, eats so many goddamn eggs, like he puts a whole fried egg on top of his Ramen noodles. Or in the morning he cracks an egg into a glass of PBR and just chugs it like it was a stein of Lance Bass' baby batter. Eggs to me are the absolute grossest fucking thing I could think of. They're the menstrual poops of chickens. When a hen is on the rag, that's what comes out of her axe wound, is a fucking egg. I don't know who first watched a chicken squeeze an egg out of her snatch and decided "it would be a good idea to put that chicken menstruation in my mouth", but I bet it was Dave Newlin's "great" X 1,000 grandfather, some deviant caveman, who probably liked to cornhole saber-toothed tigers, or to put his whole head in the butthole of a woolly mammoth.
The other day, I thought I saw the grossest thing on the planet. Me and Cody went over to Brady Nickels' apartment with a case of Coors. One time, she got really drunk and "skied" Cody and Cooter Bradenberg, which is when a chick HJ's two dudes at the same time. So we thought we could trick her into playing "Truth or Dare" with us. But then Cody turned on me. He got me on a truth and asked me if it was true that last July I had like, six chili dogs and then I shit my pants at a Salt Lake Bees game. And then I was like "dude! we're trying to get HJ's here!" So he turns to Brady, like he's going to dare her to take off her sports bra, but then he dared her to douse me with her pepper spray keychain. Before I knew it, my eyeballs felt like Satan himself was taking a flaming piss on them and I was coughing and puking all over the place, and I heard Cody say we were even for the all the times I tea-bagged him and took pictures of it, and Brady said we were even for the time I told everyone that we dry-humped at her step-dad's cabin. I could hardly see or walk or anything, and I was pissed that I wasn't going to get skied with Cody, but in the end Cody was a broham and he tied a rope to the front truck of my longboard and pulled me back to the house. Me and him are cool.
Anyway, so I stumble in, and there's Dave Newlin on the couch. He's all like "Shit, Zack, what the hell happened to you?" And he was eating this thing, it was like brown and nutty, and i was all blurry eyed still, so it looked like a piece of human shit. And I yelled "Dave Newlin, are you eating a piece of human shit!" I was totally like, "That's it. Call a priest to bless this house and cast the gayness out." But it turns out it was just a Nut Roll. Still - a NUT roll. And he was dipping it in melted marshmellow. Like jizz, dude.
Seriously, I think Dave Newlin eats all this crazy shit, because he's trying to kill his tastebuds. Like, traumatize them so much they go into a coma. Why would he try to do that?, you might ask, and i'm like, Broham? Isn't it obvious? If he kills his tastebuds, he'll be able to rim dudes and drink their man-milk with total taste impunity! He'd be a fucking machine, and twinks and bears from miles around would gather at my house and form a long line, like taking numbers and shit, while Dave Newlin, liberated from the constraints of taste, would be eating assholes like caramel corn. I don't think I have to tell you it would be totally fucking gay.

Nicolas Cage? Great Thespian! Dave Newlin? Soooo Gay!

Wazzzup, dawgs! So, the other day I saw a preview for a movie that I think falls into the category of "Sweet-Ass Sweet". Now, some of you out there probably just go to the movies to escape, but I like a movie that makes me think. So, I don't know if ya'll are gonna feel me on this one, but keep your minds open, and then prepare to have them blown. It's called "Know1ng".
Now, I know what ya'll are thinking. "A number in the title? Is this, like, a math movie? And, if so, is it awesome, like about kids cheating at Black Jack and then the dude that was Morpheus in The Matrix fucks up their shit? Or is it about Matt Damon doing therapy and getting all up in Minnie Driver's guts, even though she has a mule face, and then he and Robin Williams hug and you just know that Robin Williams got Matt Damon's nut juice all up in that beard of his later?" But, brohams, you need not panic, because it stars the one and only Nicolas Cage! He plays this college professor who finds a crazy code written by some psycho kid, and the code predicts disasters in the future. And even though it's PG-13 and will therefore not feature any titties, there's gonna be like hella explosions and shit, and there's even a plane crash in the preview. I am officially stoked, brohams!
Nicolas Cage is almost like an official guaruntee from Hollywood that a movie is gonna be totally pimp. If you don't believe me, check out this list of the five movies I watched the most this month and notice how many of them feature the Cage-Man!
1. "Ghost Rider" (Nicolas Cage turns into a flaming skull at night, and then fights the Devil!)
2. "The Rock" (where Nicolas Cage teams up with Sean Connery and fight terrorists!)
3. "Gone in Sixty Seconds" (Totally suped-up rides AND Angelina Jolie? Boner-ville!)
4. "DP Me Baby 14" (There's a dude in the scene with this Hispanic chick, the one doing her in the butt, and he kind of looks like Nicolas Cage.)
5. "Con-Air" (Nicolas Cage kicks ass on land, at sea, AND in the air!)
But seriously, I have never seen a Nicolas Cage movie I didn't think was badass. I even wrote a screenplay for "National Treasure Three" and sent it to Disney. I don't want to spoil it for anyone, but I will say that in order to get the clues to a stash of gold hidden in Grant's Tomb, Nicolas Cage will have to bang Sarah Palin. More like National Pleasure, right brohams?
I showed the "Know1ng" preview to Dave Newlin, but, of course, being a total stool-pusher, he didn't seem very impressed. In fact, he went so far as to say that he didn't even like Nicolas Cage half the time. He was all like "Nicolas Cage is only good in movies where he plays a total loser." I had no idea what he was talking about, so he put in this movie called "Adaptation". I can tell why Dave Newlin likes that movie, instead of a legitimate movie like "Face-Off" or "Snake Eyes". Because Nicolas Cage is all fat for some reason, like a gay bear, and spends half the movie totally jacking off. And the movie is totally about flowers and shit. I bet Dave Newlin was trying to see if watching Nicolas Cage beat his meat would get me hot, and then he was going to try and French me. I thought I saw him staring at me all girly-eyed, but maybe that was my imagination running away with me.
I bet you guys are wondering "Zack, do you still think Nicolas Cage is a badass, since he was in the jack-off flower movie?" But I bet the Cage-Man did it on a double-dare or something. Like one time in high school, when I was on the lacrosse team, we did this thing for team unity where we all jacked off on a Triscuit cracker and the last guy to blow his wad had to eat it. It wasn't gay, or anything, it was just a stunt, like in "Jackass Two" when that guy drinks the horse cum. Or the other day, Cody drank a whole shitload of Budweisers and passed out and I totally took a picture on my cameraphone of me tea-bagging his forehead! I bet Nicolas Cage was clowning around with his brohams.

"The Gay Science"? Extremely Gay!

Sup, brohams? So, check it out: I decided I would have a look at that book that Dave Newlin was reading the other day. Not because I'm interested in gayness or anything. But I wanna know if that book is telling Dave Newlin to explore the depths of his love for cock by, like, crushing a whole assload of Tylenol PM into my Mountain Dew and waiting, biding his time, until i fall asleep probably sitting in his bedroom, in the dark doing those Mr. Burns hands, thinking to himself "Excellent - Zack will soon be passed out and I'll get my nut! All over his sphincter!" And then he sneaks into my room and lubes me up real gentle-like and then has his way with my butthole all fucking night. It's a goddamn rodeo up in my ass! And in the morning it looks like my poop is swimming in a bowl of Tropical Punch Kool-Aid, cause I bet Dave Newlin takes like Enzyte and shit, to be able to compete with other dudes for my ass cherry. They all whip it out before hand and they look and say "Dave Newlin, you'll to the most damage to his intestines, what with that donkey dick you're rockin'. Go to!"
But anyway, so, I had to find out about that book to find out what Dave Newlin's plans were. But I couldn't remember the title. So I waited until he was in the living room, reading that book. and then I called up my broham Cody, and was all like "Dude, get over here, like, pronto!". So he comes over and then I walk up to Dave Newlin all casual, like, "Hey, man, what were last month's utilities like? So I can budget for next month." But then I grabbed the book out of his hand and tossed it to Cody, and we started playing Keep Away with it, but only so I could get a good look at the title of the book, which was - dudes, I can't believe it - "The Gay Science"! Actually it was pretty fun playing Keep Away, until Dave Newlin punched Cody in the stomach really hard and Cody got pissed. He would have kicked Dave Newlin's dick in the dirt, but Dave Newlin is a fucking Gigantor, like, six foot three or something. In the Homo Animal Kingdom, he would be known as a "bear".
I didn't want to read the whole fucking book or anything, because I'm a busy man. Later that night Cassie Miner was having an Eighties Party. Even though the Eighties was one of the queerest decades in history - like dudes dressed as chicks and the guy from "The Mighty Ducks" crying like a pussy about his dad wants him to be a winner. Except for Brett Michaels - he's a fuckin' pimp. Cassie's party was supposed to be pretty cool. And, I mean, she's a fat chick, don't get me wrong, but sometimes fucking a fat chick is like riding on one of those mechanical Zorro horses outside the Smith's - it's a lot of fun until your brohams see you. I bet I could fuck her.
So I decided to just Wikipedia "The Gay Science" (I was so relieved that it didn't pull up a bunch of dudes getting hummers from dudes, like with a chart and graphs.) And while I was happy to see that it wasn't an instruction manual on how to give me the AIDS, it turns out it's about poetry. That's what they used to call writing poetry - "The Gay Science". Which makes sense, because guys who write poems are usually writing them about how much they love dicks. Sometimes they disguise it as hetero, like they say "chicks" instead of "dicks" in their poems, since it rhymes. But make no mistake. One time in junior year, Mrs. Norwood assigned us this poem called "Do Not Go Gentle," and I was like "ugh!". I totally didn't read it, cause the last thing I want in my brain is an image of this Dylan Thomas guy telling like, Shel Silverstein, to give it to him harder.
So then I clicked a link on the author, whose name is spelled weird. I had to look at the Wikipedia, like, three times before I got this right. It's Nietzsche. First of all, he has a huge mustache, like a total child molester. If you're not from, like, the wild west or some shit, like that one old guy in "Tombstone", then having a mustache is like a signal to the world that you fuck weird. Like little kids - probably boys - or dudes. And like all those dudes in the Village People have mustaches, and so does that one dude from Queen. Secondly, he apparently died from being totally crazy, and they first noticed it when he was trying to protect a horse from getting it's ass whooped by a police officer. And only chicks like horses that much. Okay, I mean, there are some solid dudes who like to ride, like, buckin' broncos and shit, and that's totally cool, because even if you hurt your nuts real bad, it's like man fighting against nature. And gay dudes are fighting against nature, sure, but not in the cool way, like fighting the horses and the Mongolians and shit for your God given land. More like when a dude wrestles a bear. And I don't mean a bear like how Newlin's a bear. I mean like in "The Edge".
Anyway, I can totally see why Dave Newlin would read that book. He'll probably go grow a mustache and then I'll see him on "To Catch a Predator", except he'll be trying to fuck a little boy or something, and Chris Hansen will pop out of nowhere and Dave Newlin will invite him for a three-way. But then he'll go to jail, which they shouldn't do, since it wouldn't even be a punishment for him. What with all the buttfucking.

Platonic Friendship? Totally Gay!

Okay, dudes, so get a load of this: Last night I was getting ready to hang out with some of my brohams at Atchafalaya's, which is this totally pimp bar on Center and Freedom. They got a bunch of pool tables and a pretty good jukebox, with that one Chumbawumba song, and "The Thong Song". One time at Atcha's these chicks that wait tables at Outback Steakhouse, it was one of them's birthday, and so they were drinking, like, one million fucking jell-o shooters. They were so fucking plastered, they were, like, dancing on the pool tables, and drinking Jack out of each other's belly buttons and shit, like in "Coyote Ugly". It was pretty sweet, and I got an HJ from this one chick in the back of Cody's Bronco. I was gonna totally fuck her, but when she lifted up her skirt she had this huge fucking bush. It was like Samuel L. Jackson was filming "Unbreakable Part Two" in her craw. So I told her that my wisdom teeth hurt real bad, so I wouldn't have to eat her out, and I just got an HJ instead.
Anyway, I digress. So I'm in the bathroom, putting some Brut on, and I've got the door open and Dave Newlin comes in. He's all like "I'm just gonna squeeze by you for a sec and grab my book. and maybe your balls." I made that last part up. He didn't say it, but you could tell he totally wanted to. Anyway I was feeling kind of sorry for him, cause it looked like he was going to spend his Saturday night reading some stupid book, which, by the way, is called "The Gay Science." Jeez, dude, why don't you just get in a plane and write "I LOVE COCKS" in the sky? I mean, the secret's out, right?
So I thought to myself, maybe if he hung out with some total straight-up dudes then he could un-learn being gay. Like, if he were exposed to the absolute machoness of me and my crew, it would weaken his love for balls." So I say, "Newlin, dude, we're gonna shoot pool at Atcha's, you in?" But he was all like "I'd love to, but my friend is coming over" Which probably meant he was gonna have like his butt buddy over. I mean, I don't wanna sound intolerant, but what dude wants two dudes buttfucking on his couch, getting AIDS all over the place? I'd have to lysol the shit out of the cushions before the guys come over for the Patriots-Jets game. So I was like "Dude, you should bring him, it's gonna be so tight. We're just gonna get, like, totally fucking wasted and Skeet said he bring his four wheelers so we can mudding after last call." I know - invite two queers to hang out with me and my brohams? But first of all, it could be totally hilarious watching them buy each other drinks and try to play darts with their girly wrists and shit. And also, gay dudes are total pussy magnets.
But, surprise, surprise - Dave Newlin said "It's a girl, actually, and I don't think she'd like going to Atcha's, it's not really her thing. I think we were going to watch a movie anyway." And I thought for a moment that I had had Dave Newlin all pegged wrong. And I was like "Dude, is she cute?" And he was like "Yeah, she's cute." And then I was like, "Dude, that's awesome. You have my permission to totally buttfuck her on the couch." But then he was all like "It's not like that. We're just friends. It's totally platonic."
So Dave Newlin's best friend is this girl named Kimmie and they don't even fuck. She's probably like his beard, which is like a decoy chick you keep around you if you're gay but you don't want people to know. And people think "Oh, surely Dave Newlin isn't gay, because he's always hanging out with that chick Kimmie. On an unrelated note, did you see Newlin suck that golf ball through that garden hose? It was quite a feat!" But what you don't know they just stay up all night and tell each other secrets about boys and make B.F.F. collages and watch "Beaches" and shit. And he doesn't even try to get some from her. I mean, what is this, a fucking Disney cartoon?
Being platonic friends with a girl just doesn't work. Period. Because why would you ever hang out with a girl unless you thought you were maybe going to fuck her? They don't hold their booze well (which can sometimes be cool, actually) and you always have to play touch football with them (which is also cool, because you get to touch her butt, but touch football is for pussies) and they always wanna watch stuff that doesn't have Chuck Norris in it, even though he's a total badass (I have a t-shirt about how he has two speeds: "walk" and "kill"! It's so sweet!). I mean, yeah, I have friends that are chicks, but it's because I waited too long to fuck them, or they're fucking a friend of mine or something. The only reason you would have a girl for a legitimate friend is if you had no interest in banging them whatsoever, which is obviously the case with Dave Newlin and this Kimmie chick. I bet she's fat, too. Gay guys are always best friends with fat chicks. Kimmie sounds like a fat chick name.
Dude, I would never be platonic or whatever with a chick. A chick might try and make me one of the girls, like I'm gonna come to her stupid ass "Sex and The City" parties. But she'd learn the drill real quick. After the third or fourth time we hung out, I'd wait for her to get up and go to the kitchen and when she came back, I'd have my boner all whipped out and ready to go. And I'd be real casual about it, like, just nodding my head toward it and saying like "So, whatcha think?" And if she got all weird about it, I'd be like, "You're being unfair. I helped you move last month and some of that shit was pretty heavy." Then she'd at least have to give me an HJ. Unless she was a bitch and, like, ran to get the RA in her dorm and I had to press the elevator like I was heading downstairs, but then I went to the roof until the campus cops left. That happened once.

Slaves? Awesome! Newlin? Gay!

One thing that really chaps my fuckin' caboose is how self-righteous my gay friend Dave Newlin can be sometimes. Like, okay, this morning, I don't even know how we got on the subject, but he was talking some crazy shit about how, like, there are more slaves on the planet now than there were during, like, olden times, with Abraham Lincoln. Or Moses. I don't even know. Anyway, when I heard this, I was all like, "Cool. Well, let's go get some slaves. And then they could do my laundry or, like, go get me some sluts, or if I wanted to steal an iPod Touch from Best Buy or some shit, I would make my slave do it. And if he got caught, I would come down there and be all like 'I apologize for my unruly slave, shopkeep!' and then I'd turn to the slave and be all like 'Someone is about to get off the train at St. Asswhoopinsberg'. But secretly I'd give him extra grits for his efforts and drive him to another Best Buy, like, in Draper or something." And Gay Old Dave Newlin was all like "That's morally reprehensibile. Hey, do you guys have any Playgirl magazines that I could peruse?" And, just to be clear, my slave wouldn't have to be a black guy. I'm not a racist. I love Nas! And Ja Rule? Yeah, he's all right. They should be making beats with DMX and Dre, not doing my laundry. But, like, some dude from the Ukraine? Who doesn't rap? That's fair game. Also, if my slave were a hot chick, I totally wouldn't bang her by default. Just because I'm the master. She could choose to bang me. And so I asked Dave Newlin if he'd feel better if his slave was, like, a hot chick from Japan, or, like a burly dude from Belarus who just happens to enjoy carrying him around on his back all day. But, whatever, Dave is totally gay. He would not own a slave, no matter the circumstances, even when I told him he could feed the slave however much he wanted and he wouldn't have to wear rags and shit. Like, he could have a dope ass Yankees hat, like Fred Durst and some Hollister shirts. But whatever. Newlin just really likes teabagging dudes I guess. Dudes dressed like firefighters, probably.