Enought is Enought

I honestly love the random assortment of "literature" that shows up stuck under my car windshield wiper. Sometimes it's a flyer letting me know that strip clubs are such popular places to eat during the afternoon that they don't charge a cover. Sometimes it is Jesus trying to contact me through one of the people he has chosen as a vessel to spread his word via angry warnings against the Hell that awaits be if I don't join team Jesus. Jesus was always about threats. Feet washing and threats. Last week it was a lovely detailed note from a nice woman who informed me that she had hit my car. Had there been no note I would never have noticed the scratch that was put on my pristine bumper. It just fit into the Jackson Pollack scratch-fest theme on my bumper. I thought it was very nice of her to send a note and give me all her contact info. To be honest, I am delighted anytime the item on my car isn't a parking ticket. This last piece of literature was brilliance incarnate. Here is the actual document. There were thousands of them on every car in the entire neighbor hood.



Powerful and compelling, yeah? It's also a teensy bit ironic to distribute a note bashing people who don't want to learn English that appears to have been "written" by an angry, semi-literate individual with a limited grasp of the written word.

I do like trees buy I am hoping there will be more unintentionally ironic notes from this author. Perhaps a rant against the foul language that people have taken to using.

This is my imaginary excerpt:

WILL YOU FUCKERS STOP CURSING?!

These people who always make the curses are asshole who should go fuck themselves to shit. how is it being fair. I drive am in car and a man do say to me you are mother fucker. I am thinking that this pussy fart guy is not know how to talk good with the vocabalrie. we must show that these is bad words. have no fucking place in our community. we must stop saying and not to be okay to write all words that are not nice to hear or see. You join me and slice off the balls of any man or whore-cunt titty who spreads this filth to us. send those foul-mouthed cum-suckers message that we think they are lower than dog pissing.

Make no more fucking cursing!

So here's the challenge. I want to see how many grammar or spelling mistakes you can find in the original note. Whoever finds the most will get a goodie package in the mail from yours truly. And I am sure that the many people who've received prizes from me will tell you that I do not slack when it comes to sending out prizes, trophies and the like. I will send it wherever the hell you want me to.

As for finding mistakes, I'll give you a helpful hint. Sentences start with capital letters.

Please take me up on this kranki kontest, because just like a Mormon marriage, the more the merrier.

Boxing

I never had any interest in the sport of Boxing when I was younger. It wasn't until I met my wife who likes to watch boxing that I was drawn into the brutal art form. It is basically primal but there are skills and abilities that you grown to appreciate. There are people who collect stamps for fun so you really shouldn't give me a hard time just because I have developed an appreciation for the fights.

Today I saw Julio Caesar Chavez in his last professional fight. Emily brought me along with her and we got to sit in a luxury box at the staples center. Seeing a 42 year-old man box for ten full rounds, really emphasizes how truly out of shape I have become. They also scraped the bottom of the barrel to find an opponent for his son who is also now a boxer. It was a scrawny, bald white guy from Indiana who looked like the flamboyant waiter who works at that restaurant near your house. No, not that place, the other one with the good desserts. Anyhow Chavez Jr. knocked the bum out in 42 seconds.

From Boxing News site
Jr welterweight Julio Cesar Chavez Jr. (19-0, 14 KOs) needed just 42 seconds to annihilate Adam Wynant (9-4-1, 3 KOs) who was eyeing the canvas for a comfortable place to fall from the opening bell.

I will put a link to a picture of Chavez junior so you can marvel at the fact that he looks like Ralph Machio from the Karate Kid. I was expecting to see Mr. Myagi in his corner. Honestly, he looks like he is 12 years-old.

I don't have all that much more to share right now. I would like to say that I am very happy to have so many people reading my site again, I don't know why that brings me satisfaction, but it does. So, thanks for reading, tell a friend and I will endeavor to put up some entertaining posts on a regular basis.

I guess it just feels nice to be appreciated. Also all those people I met at the orgy have probably started checking out my blog. And since that is the case, lemme just take this opportunity to apologize for burning Randy's scrotum with that hot coffee. I was just offering it to be friendly. You had been working hard to be a great host and you really looked like you needed a caffeine boost. I didn't see the "spill" on the marble floor and... well I can't stress how sorry I am.

It's worse than we ever imagined

Ow. I think my unfunny bone is broken.



Ow. I think my unfunny bone is broken. (ENORMOUS LAUGHTER) 

The Book of LIZ

The Book of Liz is the new play from the enormously funny and talented Amy and David Sedaris.

First two very funny people broke the first rule of writing. That rule clearly states... "Write what you know." Unless they both grew up Amish and just never mentioned it. Okay, I'm as impatient as you are so I'll just skip to the end and tell you that the play is about an Amish woman who makes exceptional cheeseballs. Sounds wacky huh? It was like a workshop in how to be a shitty, hacky, sitcom actor. I did smile twice during the 35 minutes that I stayed to watch before the four people I was with unanimously decided to leave. That was probably just gas pain.

Note: I have never walked out on a play before out of respect to the artists involved. In this case I happily made an exception. We fled like Jews from... like Jews from anyplace really. The Jews have it rough right now. But mercifully they were not forced to attend this play.

The question remains and lingers like a sinister, festering zit on the cheek of a 16-year-old girl: How can two such talented and comedically gifted individuals write such a suck-broken-glass from-my-ass play? The answer is simple and one word long. Spectacularly.

Sedaris Kids, even if they say your play is good, well... The performances and the... Um... It all sucked. Unless it picked up 45 minutes in after I'd already fled the theatre.

Tragicish Footnote:
As we left the theatre and got outside we immediately burst into hilarious slams of the lousy performances of the " corny, ham-fisted hacktors." What we did not realize was that some of the cast was waiting offstage outside the theatre and heard every nasty word we said about them. But don't worry, because A) They really did suck (The Director especially) and B) The light quickly turned green and we ran for it when I noticed that a few of the actors had heard our "observations."

Subfootnote: I realize that writing the word "tragicish" is incredibly gay and I will immediately begin sucking enormous amounts of cock first thing tomorrow.


*Enormous Rhino Dick in rectum caused massive internal bleeding. So, to all you smug whores out there, be aware, because dares can turn deadly. Just because he likes to watch and pays extra doesn't mean you're going to have a good night.

Um, that's all.

God Can Make it Bigger!

This is an email I received today. I'd like to share it with you worthy folks.

Subject: Enlarge Your Penis Through Prayer!

Sounds crazy?

It's not!

Through the power of Christ (our Lord) and FAITH, you can have an embarrassingly large penis!

People will avert their eyes and hasten their step when you cruise down the street sporting a BONER that would make Mary Magdalene blush! And she's a filthy whore!

Love in Christ (our Lord),
-j*


My response:


Dear Enlightened One

Everything made perfect Christian sense. I just have one question before I send you a blank, signed check.

What shall I "cruise" upon? If I pray extra could the Baby Jesus (our Lord) throw in one of those cars that can turn into a boat? I saw one of those once and it was so awesome looking that I felt God enter me which made me tumescent with his love. When I saw that car drive down the beach and roll right into the water and just keep going, it was a miracle. For only God (our Lord) could make such a sweet ride.

Oh and also, can God fix my keyboard? The numberpad accidentally got gummed up with a thick, sticky fluid. I don't want to get any more specific about what type of ejaculatory fluid it was or which Country-Western singer provoked the incident. That's not really any of your business anyway is it? The important thing is the un-gummed up keyboard, the aqua-car, and of course the embarrassingly large penis.

Yours in Khrist,

Krankiboy

Pray for Pussy

This site below is the first thing that comes up if you google the phrase "pray for pussy"

I was hoping it would be a picture of the pope with a kitty cat. It isn't.


http://www.ubermorgen.com/WORDWAR/wordwar_tankv2_0_1995/wordwar.html

I think it's an interactive text art site. I write that as if I know what that means. I don't. But there was some interesting input. Some of it was even written in English.

Put in your own text here. Why, I dont really know. But you're bored so try it.

http://www.ubermorgen.com/WORDWAR/wordwar_tankv2_0_1995/sampling-subtank/sampling.html


Sample Sumbissions from other "artists"

Untitled Blog Post

Once in a while I just feel like writing something but I have absolutely nothing of interest to share. This is one of those times. Usually when you take a weekend vacation you have things to tell people. However 84% of this vacation was spent lounging by a pool and reading and listening to my I-pod. Sure I could tell you what songs I listened to or what I am reading but that's so self-indulgent. I will say that there was a group of rowdy Aussie women by the pool whose accents made me think of my lovely friends in Melbourne and Sydney. It also made me think, "Shut the fuck up I am trying to read you blabbering cunts!" But the first thought seemed a bit more snuggly and mushy.

Oh, I also found a tiny bird egg on the lawn. I fear the momma bird probably kicked it of the nest but that's not at all relevant.

Ten Things That Affected Me

Learning is a life-long process and these things in particular have stopped and made me think.



Does having a big valley make you hot to go up their alley?
Cougar size? Meow! *vomits*



*shakes head in disbelief*



Do any of you remember Jenni from Jennicam.com? This made the voyeristic nerd in me a little nostalgic.


The next two are from Postsecret.com

I thank my friends... Sprago and Jellyfish who brought my attention to this fascinating sight. Also, I'm concerned that I freaked Jellyfish out with an email I sent her recently. I have really got to stop offering to impregnate women. But by nature I'm a giver... so it's difficult.





It's important to remember all the quality time spent with loved ones.






Whether it's true or not this is sill a tad unsettling.




Please! Don't eat these. The best thing I can say about them is that they taste like fermented cough medicine-flavored Gummy Bears with a slightly stickier consistency.



Here is... The chicken who... Birdkini time... uh... This chick... hen...

I've got nothing.




Follow-up problem. Can you calculate the probability that this mathematician is getting laid?

Math Man, why not channel that frustrated genius into something womankind can appreciate you for?



Add a bit of melted butter... Maybe some paprika.


And below is perhaps my favorite recent find on Post secret.



This one whispers into my ear like the soft voice of a lover urging me into naughty behavior.

The Magic Number

Let's look at the following statement out of context.

"Never after ten, okay?"

While it would be appropriate in many scenarios such as:

1) A mother telling child that it's too late to go and play outside.

2) Person declining coffee because caffeine keeps them awake if they drink it at night.

3) A kindly old invalid neighbor informing the kids downstairs when it is okay to play loud music.

or

4) Porn starlet scolding a novice "actor" for inserting one too many dildos into her body cavities.

All those would be acceptable scenarios in which to hear those words. What would not be acceptable is the actual context of the phrase.

It's Saturday night and we're back from dinner, relaxing at out place with a couple of our friends. I suggested that we watch The Life Aquatic that we rented on DVD. But then of course the girls (women over 25 like to be called girls, so deal nazidykes) decided we needed, needed, and also really needed, to get high before we watched it. Now, currently I happen to be avoiding the refer-weed-ajuana because it leaves me with the esteem equivalent to a used and discarded piece of New York Subway bathroom chewing gum. That's Krankinese for "makes me feel depressed the next day." Now I am not in the habit of telling women what to do. And more importantly, I don't ever want to be seen as the "square guy." Plus I have come to understand that where as a guy simply wants things, a girl actually needs them. So, men, if you deny your female friend something they need you are callously putting their life in grave danger.

The words. "Oh my god, I love that purse... I need that purse." is just as urgent as the statement "The doctor says I need a kidney transplant or I am going to die."

So because getting high was this important to the girls (who are weaker and less intelligent than males*) I decided to take immediate action and call my "source."

Remember it's Saturday at 10:15 pm
"Hey, Evan it's Krankiboy..." Before I get another word out Evan says the now infamous phrase. "Never after ten, okay?" If he hadn't said it with such conviction I would have been certain that he was joking. How absurd of me to think I could drive to Evan's house to purchase something at the ungodly hour of 10:15 pm! I must have been high to think something like that was possible. Oh wait, no, I wasn't. That was the problem. I was thoroughly embarrassed to inform my friends that my guy doesn't deal after 10 pm on Saturday. Saturday Night. Who in the world would want to get narcotics of any kind on a Saturday Evening?!

It was suggested that to me that I call Evan back and inquire if perhaps he and his enormous, puckered vagina had to get up early to go church the next morning.

Implying, of course, that a dealer not willing to hook a customer/friend up was some kind of born-again, up-tight pussy.

Perhaps I can call Evan's office and they can pencil me in for an appointment next Tuesday at 9:30 AM.


* Note: This text was added merely to incite controversy and does not reflect the opinion of anybody at the Krankiboy Khronicles who've got mad love for all dem biznatches.

Also don't tell Evan that I mocked him for my own satisfaction. I may need call on him at a reasonable hour sometime.

Oh, You Sexy Bitch!

Ummm......

One Sexy Bitch

http://shop.starwars.com/catalog/product.xml?product_id=2698;category_id=332;pcid1=;pcid2=

.....Yeah.... That's something we can quickly file into the "Wrong" category.

"Help me Doggie-Won Kinobie! You're my only hope! Only your big Jedi Lightsaber is fit to bone me. "

Yeah, sometimes fetish crosses the line. One one side there is kinky and risque such as having sex on top of a faux bearskin rug and on the other side there's dressing your dog up so she is your hot Fantasy love slave. It's a few too many steps removed from reality. Oh and there is the whole dog as a sex object thing going on. I felt bad the one time I tried to put bandanas on my dogs. Some guy at the doggie park spotted them and he went all Queer Eye on me and shamed me by saying, "Oh, you poor little animals, who made you wear that terrible cowboy scarf?" I was too embarrassed to even mount a witty retort. I was at a complete loss for words. It was an act of pure faggottry on my part and I learned a valuable lesson. When the charges are directed at you by a gay man. It brought back a painful pre-teen taunting i received when, during the mid 80's, I purchased a pair of "cool futuristic-looking sunglasses" at a store called STAR MAGIC. They had glow magnets and all sorts of cool crystals and trippy spinning things. I had to choose the "rad" sunglasses. Then, like a retard running into oncoming traffic, I immediately wore them to the park. When the older teenage boys saw them on me, they mocked me mercilessly. I felt like a baby leopard being emotionally disembowled and devoured by a pack of shrieking hyenas. But it's cool. It's not like I carry the esteem-scarring event with me to this day. I'm totally over it. So the moral of this blog is. Conform. Fit it. Do what they tell you to and nobody's dog will ever need to be dressed up as Princess Leia Sex Slave. Wait. Do you think Leia had to fuck Jabba the Hut? Honestly, vile gross-out factor and sheer physical impossibility aside I would have found it very hard to cradle Jabba's blubbery genitals and give them a proper Princess polish. Certainly not with that little screeching dude perched on Jabba's shoulder and watching me. Anyway, enjoy the Jabba's cock in your mouth imagery. Kids: Eat your vegetables and never be different. Stay with the herd. But really, those were some fucking dork-ass, turd- sniffer sunglasses. Stupid 1980's!

Lastly; Why do I share these things with you and not with my therapist?

The Brown Hole of Comedy

Friends:

Sometimes all you can do is point at a Comedy Juggernaut and cry quivering tears of joy.

If you don't read it and like it then I hate you.

http://ifuckedanncoulterintheasshard.blogspot.com/

My thanks go to Liquid G for sharing this precious piece of political comedy.

Next Saturday

Rich baby! Next Saturday. That's right suckers. How? Who cares?! She's wearing a bikini and using her laptop while on the beach. I bet you want to be her or fuck her or perhaps both!

Plus, these four superstars certainly need no introduction.



This was the magazine I discovered for The Learning Annex. They offer classes in everything from 'How to Create, Write and Pitch a Reality Show in 48 Hours' to 'An Evening with Chaka Khan.'

My reality show would explore these masterful instructors sharing their wisdom with their deluded students. Anyway, since I'm going to be rich, I won't be associating with the likes of you anymore.

(If you could see my face here you would see that I am scoffing haughtily)

Here are some of my other favorite classes offered at Learning Annex. 3 are made up. See if you can guess which are bogus. C'mon it'll be fun and it's tax deductible*.

1) Stop Choosing Mr. Or Ms. Wrong (Handwriting Analysis for Love)

2) How to Snare a Millionaire

3) Gain A Photographic Memory in 1 Night

4) Learn to Speak Any Language in Just 3 Hours!

5) Become an Unstoppable Woman! How to Achieve Any Goal in 30 days or less.

6) Work with Your Angels to Realize Your Dreams, Potential and Highest Life Purpose.

7) How to Grow Hair in 12 Weeks (Stimulate new hair growth without drugs or surgery.)

8) How to Start a Private Investigation Business

9) How to Exploit the Unrealistic Desires of Others for Profit

10) Know Your Naked Body (Turn bedroom Moments into Minutes)

11) Writers: Create Unforgettable Characters

12) Smell Your Way to Success (How do phermones affect your finances?)

13) How to Make $$ in the Adult-Entertainment Business Online.

14) Cardio Striptease

Something some other guy wrote about the Learning Annex. I know where he lives if you wish to throw your underpants at him.

http://www.vgg.com/et/et_011001_learnannex.html

* How the hell would that work? You are a dumb-ass!

Note: The term "dumb-ass" refers to other people reading this, not you... Idiot.

Sucky Day

So, it was just a crappy day for everybody on Saturday. It was as if the world or at least the world around me woke up in a bad mood. I got into an argument with my keeper over whether or not I was in a bad mood. I explained that the notion that I was in less than high spirits was "utter fucking bullshit" and the keeper in question said how much it sucked that I was being so negative. The spirit of Flower Power and the 60s was not wafting in the air. I always feel guilty when I'm in a bad mood when it's a gorgeous day outside. It's like disrespecting Mother Nature. Also I am going to start abbreviating Mother Nature to "Momma Nat" or "Ma Natty." You are welcome to join me in this groundbreaking leap forward for slang or just sit on the sidelines and cheer me on.

So it's later that night and we have just had the absolute worst waiter ever. We are headed back to out friends apartment in Los Feliz. Let me go on a tangent for a moment because I know that Feliz Navidad means Happy Christmas. Does that mean the name of Los Feliz translates to "The Happy"?

End of tangent.

So after dinner we walk across the street towards 7-Eleven, which by the way, is the worst name for a chain of stores that is in fact open 24 hours a day. We are headed to 7-Eleven so our friend Janey could get some drops for her eyes, which were not in any way related to the large quantity of psycho-medicinal marijuana that this person had inhaled earlier in the evening.

We are about to walk into the intense and potent fluorescent lighting of the convenience store when some young Asian chick speeds up and walks in in front of us. She was definitely in her mid 20s but it was clear that she was in the middle of a really bad decade. She looked glazed over and strungout-ish, but what was most noticeable was that her blue jeans were hung rather low. Not fashionably low, like around the bottom of her waist. They were actually drooped down around her thighs and were it not for her ratty pink thong... you get the idea. She was 20 with the red and waffly ass of a sedentary sixty-year- old. She wandered in and we blinked in disbelief and stunned embarrassment for her. Somebody had to be startled because she had no problem wandering over to the fridge and pulling out a tallboy can of beer. I wish I had seen what brand it was so I could know what beer is the brand of choice among L.A. Asian Druggie Whores.

On our way out she again cut in front of us and made her way out the door already well into her beer. It was as if she was a walking billboard for grungy thongs. We watched as she got into the front seat of a long, stretch Limo complete with purple interior lights. Klassy. Leashed to the passenger seat was aan enormous and very chill-ed out dog. It looked like a sled dog. The dog met my gaze and bared his lipstick.

And then Penny made the following brilliant comment. "I feel quite certain that she's already fucked that dog." All I could think to respond was something about Penny's ability to always find life's silver lining.