Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

TV be gone

Thursday, February 17th, 2011

The only thing worse then tv, is kids. Scratch that, I mean Parents.

I’m so sick of my fucking generation of parents and their worries about their stupid children. Today’s parents ruin everything. They ruin everything because they are afraid of what it might to to their children.

I’m sorry that you’ve left the cool pool and now you have to go home to your kid. I’m sorry that you are afraid that the banana splits show might make them feel bad, because the gorilla on the slide is ugly.

When we were kids my brothers and I snuck into the movie Grizzly. It was the first time I saw tits and blood and it was in the same scene. My brother and I used to wake up in a cold sweat screaming about Grizzly, until my mother figured it out and realised that we snuck into a rated R movie.

She didn’t lecture us or tell us it was just a movie. She made us go out and pull weeds from the garden for the rest of the summer.

My point is that we needed it, and we loved it.

When we were kids you got a fucking cake and a toy on your birthday, and the immediate family was around to witness it. Now you have to hire a helicopter and Evil Keneval because your kid is turning six.

Your Not making better people. Your making the cast of Willy Wonka and your stupid child is fat and stuck in the chocolate pipe.

Having kids isn’t amazing. Getting a strand of semen to go from one nipple to the other on a hookers breasts is amazing.

Get over yourselves and grab your kids by the hair, drag then into their rooms and tell them to shut the fuck up or you’ll come in there, and make some cool kids for once.

Also, TV is Gay watch porn. It’s much better for you.

God I miss you people

your pal Randy

Mike has gone to Pot

Friday, February 6th, 2009

Michael Phelps and his bong.

Michael Phelps and his bong.

USA Swimming, the nation’s governing body for competitive swimming, said it was withdrawing financial support for Phelps and barring him from competition during the period of his “reprimand.”
“This is not a situation where any anti-doping rule was violated, but we decided to send a strong message to Michael because he disappointed so many people, particularly the hundreds of thousands of USA Swimming-member kids who look up to him as a role model and a hero,” they said in a statement.

What’s funny about this is that after I saw the bong picture, he became my hero. Before that, I couldn’t give a fuck about Michael Phelps. To me, a hero is someone who can swim faster then anybody else, and also hold in a gigantic bong hit.
I’d like to send a strong message to USA Swimming, by blowing a plume of weed smoke in their faces, for being such assholes.
On this note I want to talk about my man Rush Limbaugh. I know that a lot of my “Lefty” friends are getting upset with him, because he wants Obama to fail and Rush is a racist. I also know that a lot of people don’t like his point of view on things, and to that I want to say, I’m with you, he’s an asshole. But I give him slack, because he’s a fat drug addict. You can’t really take things that fat drug addicts say to heart, because….well because they’re fat drug addicts. And why would Rush “Just say no” when donuts are so fucking tasty.

your pal Randy

The Cellar

Friday, October 31st, 2008

Directed by Randy:


Tuesday, July 8th, 2008


My parents used to take me and my three brothers to the Jersey shore for a week mid summer. We rented a bunglao by the beach and lived the life. I remember the street names like Pelican lane or Dolphin drive, cute, simple, easy summer living. I was at the age where the look of a bikini on a teenage girl was just starting to make me feel a certain way, but not enough yet. Childhood still had me, and wasn’t letting go yet. What was infinitely more important was the walks with my brother to the store to buy some wacky pack baseball cards. Cards with drawings of goblins and creatures playing baseball or football, my ten cents buying me hours of wonder along with a brick hard slab of gum rolled in powdered sugar. Walks filed with conversations about Planet of the Apes and what we would do if it happened. How dr Zaius would actually like us, because we were different.

Jaws had just come out, ruining pools, lakes and streams for kids everywhere, not to mention the ocean. The great shark swam in the waters off of New Jersey, I knew it.

The boardwalk was the pinnacle of the trip. The big night out. Cotton Candy. The stuffed doll I would never win, and the smell of roasted peanuts. Small wooden roller coasters built in 1917, that no sane person would let their child ride, and the cool salty breeze that came in from the ocean.
I had no fear of tanned skin back then. We would play in the sun until we were caramel colored. I had no fear of anything except math and spelling.

My parents, to this day have no idea how much these little things would mean to me in my life. How much those memories would sneak in on a warm summer breeze and fill up my nostrils, and take me back even for just a few seconds. Just like those of you with kids are unaware how much of a warm summer night is going to stick in their little subconscious and wait to come out.

I hate that I don’t feel like that anymore. I live day to day in the drab world of the here and now. Bills and work and the future are on my mind. Those moments that used to fill my everyday with wonder and excitement are gone. Just small memories, that flood in and out. I know in my heart it’s why having kids is so great because they bring it back to you, and you get to hold their little hands and watch them amazed at a snail or a turtle.

I had one of those moments just a few minutes ago. I was sitting reading, and that feeling of youth and my life, and summer snuck in and nudged me. It’s why a write this. It all came back, and me sitting here remembering these things is a week attempt to hang on to it.

The great shark still swims off the coast of new Jersey, waiting for a kid to take his raft and go swimming.

Have a great Summer out there

your pal Randy

I am tougher then all of you

Friday, September 21st, 2007

That’s a lie

I am, and always was, a big Sissy. We used to call it faggot, but that’s not appropriate anymore I guess.

The last fight I was in, was in the fourth grade, and it was with a guy named Skip Sniffen. I’m not lying about that. Anyway, I’ve always been afraid of being punched or hit, and as mad as I ever get, the most I ever want to do is maybe berate someone. When I was about twelve I shot a bird with a bb gun and upon hearing it flounder around in the woods I began to cry and haven’t hurt anything since.

This brings me to America. What the fuck is up with us? I swear to god, everyone in this country thinks they are tough, or hard. Now, I know not everyone, but I’ll put it in the same scale as people who are overweight in this country, “almost everyone”. We have turned into a bunch of fat assholes who think they are hard.

I don’t get it. What is the appeal? Really, what is it that makes us act like this? I was walking home this morning and I passed a couple of dudes older then me, that’s older then forty mind you, and they looked like they were just out of jail. So I figured that I’d give them the old “hello” as I passed by, and they looked like they had no idea what to do.

Now, to all of you women out there, I know that most of you don’t have the “tough gene”. But you do have the “drama gene”. You don’t start the fight, but you get to cry and act like a ripe tosser when the cops come and you sit on the curb and scream as your dumb boyfriend gets arrested.

I wish America would knock it the fuck off. It’s stupid. We hate everyone who isn’t American, and we actually hate everyone who is as well. There is northing to gain from being tough. I’m talking mathematically. Maybe you can act all tough and then go home and have sex with a women who likes to cry a lot, but I’m thinking that is a bit stupid too.

It’s ok when you’re fifteen if you think you’re tough, but you’re going through puberty. I can look the other way. But when you are a middle aged man, and you’re acting like you’re still going through puberty, I feel like that is a little sad.

And just to put it in perspective, if you think you’re tough, I’ll tell you who is. Jeffery Dahmer. That boy had a guys head in a lunchbox. And I think he ate the rest if it. He was actually hard.The rest of us are like people who are still wearing our halloween outfits acting like we just got our first erection.

I think it’s time for us to embrace this whole sissy thing, and maybe try and make it pleasant to walk down the street again.

Your pal Randy

Re: Murdock owns everything

Tuesday, July 31st, 2007

Actually, I would love to hear Randy address this one. I already know the answer, but something about the way he puts things….

Randy, if you wouldn’t mind, could you squeeze in a history lesson between masturbation and/or pot smoking sessions?


Thank you for that compliment. Unfortunately I vowed to myself to never reply to anything Joseph writes again after uncovering that even angry washed up hippies would attack Star Wars geeks behind the safety of their computers. So I wont.

But I will say this. And this is a theme that I can’t stress enough. The news, like everyone else is just a whore. But unlike a good Whore, at the end of getting fucked, you don’t have an orgasm. You just get fucked. I usually watch that stuff for material, but I am finding it harder and harder to eat that bowl of shit. Because it is all a bunch of bullshit.

For instance, if I watched the news all day, I would be shown all of the horrible things that happened today. Killing, sickness, poverty, Racism, all of it. But if I sat outside on my lawn today, which I did, I saw an amazing sky, and a beautiful day pass by. Maybe even wave to a couple of neighbors.

Maybe there was a time when it was good for you to watch the news. But it isn’t anymore. And the people who tell you that you aren’t informed if you don’t watch it, can suck a dick, because who wants to be informed on sadness and hate and fear. I’d rather watch a nice day go by.

In the end it’s all the same. When you die you are still the sum total of all of the things that you have done, and seen and felt. Some people would have you live in fear and hate because they have found a way to make a lot of money on it.

the more simple of us, don’t know that it is stupid to drive a gigantic truck and have a sticker on it that says “support the troops”. They just believe what they saw on tv. And in a way I wish I was more like that because to not know, is awesome.

The one thing that is consistent is that whoever is running the show, knows that the best way to keep people from looking under their rock, to see what they’ve been up to, is to keep people separated.

This is exactly why sex and drugs and music are always under attack. These are always things that bring people together. Most of the women who will fuck me are wasted. This is why I love drugs. and we all know that the Government loves drugs too, because of all of the drug pushers on tv, drugs and cars two biggest commercials.

Unfortunately, the drugs they push don’t make women slutty, and that’s why I’m against it!

The best that we can do is flip them all the bird and go get nasty. Get out there and try and find some people that we can get naked. Get intimate with people that you hardly know. Feel good. More importantly. try and make other people feel good. and after a great night of ass hunting, when you get home and you couldn’t score. Don’t worry, there is always tomorrow, tonight, sattle up to a good porno and get yourself off.

Rupert Murdock has made maybe a hundred close friends feel good.

Jenna Jamison has made millions of Americans feel great!

and I’m gonna go see her tonight.

feel good people

your pal Randy

Time machine

Tuesday, May 22nd, 2007

If I could do anything for mankind. If I could use anything to help out people on this planet, I would invent a time machine. Then I would travel back in time and fucking kill Alexander Graham Bell.

That dushebag has no idea the trouble he started.

When I was a kid, it was a time called Nineteen Seventy. And for the most part it was awesome.

My Mom had a coup[le of friends that were real assholes on the phone. They would call her up and fucking gab like there was no tomorrow. One woman was named Betsy, and the other was named Francine or however the fuck you spell it.

Anyway those two assholes were always on the horn, and to make matters worse they were on the horn fucking everything up. Especially my day. they would call up my mom and Nark on me, that they saw me and I wasn’t at school, all sorts of shit.

But the one thing that was different was

they were attached to the fucking wall.

Now every asshole from here to New Jersey is on the fucking phone everywhere you go. It’s the the whole world turned into a BetsyFrancine monster and they are making calls. Who needs to drive when you can talk on the phone and coast between lanes?

Hot chicks walking down the street used to have to deal with getting hit on. Now they have a phone attached to their ear cock blocking everyone.

I still hit on them, There is nothing better then bothering a woman until she puts the phone down and then asking her for her number. The face they make is awesome.

Well, that’s it. I am reaching out to you people to stop the madness and hang up the phone. It sucks, and people who are on the phone suck. think about it

your pal Randy

Nice one…

Tuesday, July 11th, 2006

I’ll tell you

And this is coming from someone who tries to get people angry. There is no difference between Ann Coulter and Howard Stern, except their audience.

Both people know that the more trouble they cause, the more famous they get. I tend to like Howard Stern, because I tend to like hookers and prostitutes.

But don’t think that little miss Ann or fox news don’t know for a second what they are doing, and that they don’t know that their true audience used to watch American Gladiator and Cops. So don’t get so upset.

Also, there is a bigger fact to deal with. Here is my personal problem. I want peace on Earth, and kindness towards all mankind, and at the same time I fucking hate people. On one hand I want these bombings to stop, and at the same time on my commute to work I imagine everyone running down the road with their skin falling off their bodies and their skulls exploding.

Because people fucking suck.

So who cares if they die? And who cares if our country is being run into the dirt by bum penis? Who cares if all of these stupid people pay five bucks at the pump to fill up their street yacht? Who cares how many soldiers die, and how many people they kill? Fuck them.

The republicans can have it. They can have the whole fucking mess. Great job, it’s all yours and every time some kid gets killed by a gun, I say, “well I guess that what you people want” so stop fucking complaining. It’s not what I would do, but fuck that little kid, because we like our guns
Hooray for America!

Enjoy your life and get a hooker

your pal Randy

the difference between Macs and PCs

Sunday, July 2nd, 2006

One time on my system I was typing some Mac shit with some pc shit on top, and I felt like the product I was looking for more IBM see, then I looked at the motherboard and realized that it was all linix like. and that was uncool.

Here is the bottom line.

Computer talk makes women’s vagina’s get dry.

If you want to talk about scientific facts, talk about that. Because I don’t have a vagina, and mine is dry from just reading your emails. It doesn’t matter who is right or wrong on this one. Because all across the nation there are thousands of dry vaginas just because of the kind of shit that you people are talking about.

Here is how you solve it. Tonight go to a strip club. If you still live in San Francisco I suggest “The Market Street Cinema” because those girls are really disgusting, I know, I’ve had sex with many of them.

So anyway, go there tonight, it will cost you about fifty bucks, I know that is hard since most men who work in visual effects are the cheapest basterds on the planet, but anyway, go in there, and sit with a stripper. She should be wearing a bikini, and she should also be ready to take you into the back room and do stuff to you that was in the movie that you watched last night.

Ask her about the difference between Apple and Mac or PC and what she thought about the movie Cat Woman.

Then watch her stare at you as her vagina gets dry.

But I love you, and all of your computer talk makes my penis wet

your pal Randy

Meter Maids

Sunday, June 4th, 2006

Today I stepped in to get a cup of coffee and the guy behind the counter was an ass. I needed to use my card, and it needed to be over a certain amount so he suggested that I buy the woman next to me breakfast.

Now I don’t mind buying people breakfast, but I aint going to help you get laid, but in all the confusion I said ok, and bought some lady breakfast and I’m sure she is enjoying it.

I step outside, and wouldn’t you know it. There is a meter maid giving me a ticked. He had a mustache so you know he was fucking stupid. Here is our conversation, I think it would make a good play.


“Don’t you just love America?”

Meter Maid



“It’s the only place in the world where you can get a nice cup of coffee, and then get dicked for some money.”

Meter Maid

“How long were you in there?”


“Two minutes”

Meter maid

” Well, you should have put money in ”


“Yeah, I didn’t have any, but I don’t mind paying this. I make a lot of money.”

Meter Maid



“But, you can answer me a question. How does it feel to have taken a job where you fuck people over for money? Does it make you sad? Is that why you have a mustache?”

Meter maid

turns and walks away in a huff, looks back disappointed.

Randy yelling

” Enjoy the life you have chosen, it’s a sad one!”

Meter maid gets in car and leaves

The end

I know, I know, a beautiful story. I’ll pay thirty bucks to tell a meter maid they suck any day.

Your pal randy

I have to apologies, because I didn’t mean to be such a wimp. And although, I am a sissy boy for using a card, you can bet that one of us threw down two bengy’s as you call them to have three, countem, three bitches give me a lap dance at once, this very week. There is no joke there.Also, you need to knock it off with that Rap music stuff because you are starting to sound like Fity Cent, who is an asshole. I agree, that it is cool to have hundreds of dollars on you, but I think if you are going to walk around with that kind of cash there is only two things that you should spend it on

Bitches and coke.

Not Coffee.

Thanks for the heads up, and I promise to not make you shake your head, if you spend some money on naked women and score some coke

Your pal Randy

Here’s the problem I have with your story: you got fucked by paying with a card. Don’t do that anymore. A real man doesn’t need a card. When I see a grown man buying a $1.25 candybar with a debit card, I shake my head in shame. That man is owned. Real men carry cash, and lots of it.

Thanks Chris

I have to apologies, because I didn’t mean to be such a wimp. And although, I am a sissy boy for using a card, you can bet that one of us threw down two bengy’s as you call them to have three, countem, three bitches give me a lap dance at once, this very week. There is no joke there.

Also, you need to knock it off with that Rap music stuff because you are starting to sound like Fity Cent, who is an asshole. I agree, that it is cool to have hundreds of dollars on you, but I think if you are going to walk around with that kind of cash there is only two things that you should spend it on

Bitches and coke.

Not Coffee.

Thanks for the heads up, and I promise to not make you shake your head, if you spend some money on naked women and score some coke

Your pal Randy