This issue of SkullGame, the last before we talk a well-deserved vacation this week, is brought to you by WITCHES, ghouls, gobbling goblins, and art students with trust funds, OH MY!!!
AAAHHHH OOOOOOO.....SCAAAARRRYYYYYY....
NEWSFLASH: SMART DOGS DON'T CHASE CARS!!!
YOU MIGHT BE A REDNECK IF...YOU LOSE A FIGHT WITH A SEMI...
ORANGE COUNTY, FLA. (SkullGame) -- Florida State Troopers said a semi was traveling northbound on Orange Blossom Trail near Lancaster Road around 3:30 Thursday morning when a man walking in the roadway flagged him down and asked for a ride. The driver refused and started to drive away. That's when, troopers said, the pedestrian tried to kick one of the semi's tires and was run over.
"This gentleman had no business being in the roadway at all. If he wasn't in the roadway, we wouldn't have had his life ended like so much silly putty in the funny pages of life," explained Charles C. Grant, FHP.
The driver was not ticketed.
THE HOUSTON TEXANS PROVE THEY CAN'T DO ANYTHING RIGHT & RUIN AN OTHERWISE PERFECT SEASON BY ACTUALLY WINNING ONE FUCKING GAME, BEATING THE SPREAD & THUSLY FUCKING ME OUT OF A WELL-DESERVED $200: A STORY OF FRIGHT
WHICH WAY DID HE GO? WHICH WAY DID HE GO?!?!
HOUSTON (SkullGame) -- The Houston Texans, winless in six outings and on their way to a truly stunning victory over competence, skill and ability, fucked it up for everyone by getting their first win over the Cleveland Browns a team that though hapless just didn't have the man sack and perserverance to lose all of their first six games like the now failed Texans.
In an ugly, 19-16 affair, the Texans have no one to blame for their win outside of the sadly effective kicking and special teams. And when Kris Brown, who just wasn't trying hard enough to not succeed hit a 40-yard field goal, his fourth of the day, with 2:45 remaining, to give Houston (1-6) the come-from-behind-fuck-Vinnie-in-the-ass win. The kick was set up by a 63-yard kickoff return by rookie Jerome Mathis.
"It's kind of nice to fuck up so much that we actually managed to get that 'W,''' suspected non-team player Carr said. "Even though that was one of the ugliest games I've ever played in. What with the kicking and special teams guys actually trying and all."
THOSE WACKY "JACKIES" UP TO IT AGAIN. WHAT? NAKED, SEXY STUFF, NATCH.
"AND NOW IF YOU CONCENTRATE REEEALLLL HARD YOU CAN ALMOST EXPUNGE ANY THOUGHTS OF MY CRAZY BATSHIT BROTHER FROM YOUR BRAINPAN...RIGHT?!? RIGHT?!?"
LOS ANGELES (SkullGame) -- JANET JACKSON is caught up in a fresh new scandal, after a video clip of her sunbathing naked in the privacy of her own home hit the Internet showing the world, once again, her breasts of terror.
The 40-second paparazzi video, which was shot from bushes near the pop singer, circulated around the Internet at a high rate Thursday, reportedly prompting her lawyers to attempt to have the video removed from any sort of mass media due to her knobs corrupting influence on the youth of America.
The exact source of the video and when it was shot have yet to be revealed.
This week, Jackson also hit out at claims by her former brother-in-law, Young DeBarge, that she has a "secret" 18-year-old daughter with ex-husband James DeBarge.
"That's just crazy," said the singer whose brother sleeps with young boys, keeps monkeys and mummies, and whose face is made of playdoh. "Crazy."
TRUE FISTS: ENGLISH BOB VS. DOORWAY PISSING FUCKWIT
HI. MY NAME IS ENGLISH BOB. AND I HATE PISSERS.
Last Friday myself and my girlfriend were happily walking home after having a couple of drinks. I had been working till late so we only managed 3 drinks before it was time to go home. This is the way it goes in my town, you either start early or dedicate yourself to getting drunk, this means avoiding troublesome things like conversation and toilet breaks. So what I am trying to say is that I was far from drunk. Another thing about my town is that like all small towns, it's populated with small people. Not midgets as such, but small minded, small dicked no hopers, with ideas far, far above their station.
As we walked down the quaint little street where my girlfriend works, we happened upon two young men who were urinating in the doorway of my girlfriends shop. Doing what any normal person would do, she enquired to just what the fuck they were doing pissing all over her door. The reply came, they said they were sorry and couldn't be more apologetic.
Just kidding.
Predictably, the two idiots showed little or no remorse for their piss-based crimes. Admittedly, the smaller of the two was slightly less offensive. I decided to try and diffuse the situation, all I wanted to do was go home and eat some food. After a minute or two of heated words, I pulled her away and started to walk off. The taller of the two called her a 'stupid fucking bitch'. I turned around and asked him what he just said, not that I hadn't heard him, but more to give him a chance to either apologize or walk away. He did neither and instead puffed his chest out and barged into me.
MY WORK HERE IS DONE
Ping. What's that? That's the sound of my pissed-o-meter whirring into life.
My girlfriend and his friend put themselves in-between us, but by that point the adrenaline was coursing through my veins and my leg was juddering like I had Parkinsons. Still, there's time to avoid a fight I thought. You see, I am a friendly person, I take people how I find them. Whilst I might think about how much I'd enjoy breaking your jaw, there's virtually no chance of it happening. I'm not a fighter. I am however 6'2" and 190lbs with what can only be described as terrible, terrible anger managment problems.
Then, my girlfriend swiped at my opponent with her umbrella, catching him lightly on the chest. He then made the deal breaker by shoving her over.
PING. That's the sound of the pissed-o-meter going off the scale. That was that, fighter or no fighter, pain was on the menu. As I approached him, he asked 'Do you want a fucking boxing match then mate?' I asked myself, when do I throw a punch? Shall I crack him now. . . .or . . He kindly made the decision for me swinging wildly at me, missing two or three times. As I grabbed him by the neck, he caught me on the left hand side of my nose, normally this would have me reeling, but it was fight time and I was intent on fucking this guy up. My right hand caught him square in the face and I took this opportunity to get in real close. You know, so we could talk about this face to face.
Without thinking I clamped his head into what could be a chokehold, if I had even the vaguest clue how to do one of those, then as he struggled against me, a sense of joy washed over me. I was stronger than him, and encapsulated in our tiny war, I was winning. He tried to swing me off, I wondered to myself if he was going to get wise and stamp on my foot or punch me in the balls, he didn't and instead as I swung him against a wall, put his hand through a window trying to steady himself.
Silly boy. I dropped to my knees with him still clamped under my arm and rained as many blows as my adrenaline ravaged body would allow on the back of his head. Game over. At this point, I was brought back to reality by a huge figure coming toward me, fuck, I thought, I am going to get my just desserts now. The giant man yanked me off and threw me against the wall, I put my hands up and luckily my girlfriend was there at my side, telling the stranger that the groaning mess on the floor had started it by pushing her over and that I was simply defending her. The loser was helped by up by his friend and they scurried off. At this point I was unable to speak and just kept exhaling, trying to desperately calm my dutch techno heartbeat.
The ugly giant and his far uglier ladyfriend assured me that I had won, which was what I wanted to hear, 'You should 'ave seen 'is fookin' face mate, right mess' and urged us to leave the scene. My girlfriend was mortified when she saw my nose, which in turn freaked me out. I wasn't bleeding so what the fuck was wrong with my nose!?? The blow I had taken had not broken my nose but certainly altered it's trajectory. My dear girlfriend then sweetly insisted on trying to break it back into place, which hurt at least a million times more than the original blow did.
Soon enough the police showed up, we explained a slightly more favorable version of events, played the good citizens and soon enough they were laughing and joking with us, although my girlfriend was milking it by playing the 'I just wish I'd never said anything *sob*' card. She later confided in me that whilst I was scrabbling around on the floor, she had taken one of her stilettoes off and proceeded to whack his friend over the head until he was screaming at her 'Stop!! What are you doing? What have I done!??' That's my girl.
The day after I spent the day 'recouperating' in bed with her. This involved lots of high grade prescription painkillers she has for her 'back pain' and blowjobs galore. So here I am, a week on and it no longer makes my eyes water when I blow my nose and the bruising has turned a chic shade of yellow, a welcome change from the heavy drug user look I was sporting a few days ago.
The important thing is, I FUCKING WON. HOW FUCKING GAY IS THAT?!?!?
[Very. -- Vinnie]
