“Assology”

[as-ol-uh-jee]

Noun

The study of all things ass

Kiss Ass - this one is obvious, these people walk around with their lips permanently glued to another’s ass, most of the time it is the ass of a person they look up to, want to be with and/or want to be, in a strange deranged stalker kind of way.

Tight Ass - I’m not talking about someone who has buns of steel here, but rather someone whose ass is so tight that it squeaks when they walk, they have no sense of humor whatsoever and spend all their time trying to hinder everyone else’s good time.

Wet Ass – After dropping the kids off at the pool, or taking a dump for you less than civilized people, and not wiping properly thus leaving debris in the hole and causing the victim to walk around like he/she just got off of a horse, the end result is shit stains in their underwear and a wicked rash.

Ass Face – When someone is so hideous that their face looks like an ass, and not a nice firm plump ass either, but rather a hairy greasy pimply fat ass, like something you would see peeking out of the pants of a stereotypical plumber or Rosie O' Donnell.

Asshole – When someone is a dick for no apparent reason, they go around causing havoc and making people’s life miserable just because they can, these screwballs actually get pleasure from being a complete tool bag.

Eating Assushi – The eating of an ass, of course not literally because that would be morbid, but using your tongue to lick the puckered brown starfish as if it was a lollipop, chocolate of course.

Asstacular – When an individual has such an amazing ass that you can’t help but to stare, and touch, but be careful with the touching because unless the person is a freak you may end up with sore jewels and/or even in jail time.

Ass Blast – Deliberately shooting gas out of your ass with the hopes of being obnoxious and extremely disgusting all for a good laugh, the whole time trying not to shit yourself in the process, because then the laugh would be on you.

Ass Neck – When someone is so fat that the back of their neck looks like an ass, and depending on the person, it may also smell like one too.

Talking Out Your Ass – When someone says something that makes absolutely no sense whatsoever, complete and utterly buffoonery is spewing from their head hole, the shit they are talking stinks more than a nice juicy fart.

Asshat – When someone’s head is so far up their ass it is as if they are wearing it as a hat, these people act like complete idiots and are totally unaware that they are different than us normal people.

Well there you have it people, a whole lot of ass terms that you may or may not have been familiar with. Sure there are more, but being the lazy bastard I am, this is all I had the energy for.

You’re welcome!

MJM

“When I Die”

When I die I want my eulogy to be given by a rapper, preferably someone crazy like Eminem or Lil' Wayne, with backup vocals by Rihanna, that would be sure to get the party started.

When I die I want my coffin to be filled with punch, with me in it, giving a whole new meaning to “spiking the punch”.

When I die I would require people to come to my funeral dressed as their favorite character from The Walking Dead, they could take pictures with my lifeless body as if I was a zombie, and if they so felt the need to complete the illusion they could even stab me in the head.

When I die I want to be buried faced down ass up, that way as they are lowering me into the ground I can tell them all to kiss my ass.

When I die I don't want to be buried like everyone else; I want to be propped up on the front lawn as if I was a scarecrow, with glow sticks glued into my hands so on a windy night I would look to be raving.

When I die I don't want my funeral be a sad and somber place, I want it to be upbeat and loads of fun, instead of pallbearers I want puppeteers who would work my corpse as if I was in Weekend at Bernie's.

When I die I want pictures taken of me in my coffin, throwing up gang signs or deuces, then have the picture put on a postcard all sent to all my enemies with the line, "wish you were here" written on it.

When I die I want to be put into a stew and served to all my loved ones, that way we could be together forever, or at least until they went to the bathroom.

When I die I want an open casket at the viewing, with me being buck naked inside, that way, of course after rigor mortis sets in, all the girls can see exactly what they missed out on.

When I die I want my body to be burnt and my ashes mixed with the finest marijuana money can buy, to be smoked by all my loved ones so that they can experience all my awesomeness even after I’m gone.

When I die I want to be buried in my back yard to see if another one of me would grow, of course it would need to be fertilized with straight crap and lots of alcohol, but if everything works out as planned it would all be worth it in the end.

When I die I want to be buried with a hot dead babe, that way I would never be alone, and if by some crazy chance I did come back as a zombie I would have a built-in friend with benefits, that I could eat afterwards.

When I die I want to come back as a ghost, not one that haunts houses, but rather one that haunts the locker room of a women’s beach volleyball team.

When I die I want my tombstone to come equipped with a built-in HD television, so that way it would give people a reason to stop by and stay for a while, but no porn channels because I wouldn’t want some nasty bitches dropping their seed in my flower bed.

When I die I want a rumor started saying my passing was because I didn’t forward a chain email, really scare the shit out of the stupid people.

When I die I want to be buried in a coffin shaped like a vibrator, because you know, just in case God really is a she.

MJM

“Gangsta Blogging”

The world of blogging is very boring, uneventful and totally lame-o (sorry for the harsh language).

Something needs to be done to change that, we need to spice, and shake, things up…yeah I went there.

We should make it more like the gangsta rap game, but instead of the whole East coast-West coast rivalry, we could do something like mommy bloggers vs. humor bloggers…word.

I would call myself 2 Ply, because I’m white and handle more shit than toilet paper, and I would drop more dope blogs than a drunken waitress with vertigo drops dishes yo.

My gang sign would be one hand over the other, like as if I was playing slaps with myself, forget the bat signal, punks better beware when they see the 2 ply sign go up in the air fool.

We all know the pen is mightier than the sword, it’s an ink filled gat mother fugger, rat-tat-tat-tat tat ta tat like that, and I never hesitate to put a blogger on his back…okay sure we don’t use pens, but you get the picture.

I would start smoking the chronic as if I was Dr. Dre, burning more trees than a forest fire, turn my keyboard into a bong and call it Puff the Magic Dragon because that’s how I roll homie.

I would put hydraulics and spinning rims on my desk chair, this would help me feel more hood like when I laid down my flow, showing all those bitches and bastards just how gangsta I truly am when I spit my blogs.

I would even come up with my own dance, something cool like the Stanky Leg or the Superman, every blogger would be doing it and all the haters would be cursing my name because the wannabes are green with envy.

 

We could use different color fonts to show our allegiance to our respected gangs, or clicks if you want to be all Hollywood, and anyone caught blogging in the wrong color would get dealt with, proper like.

My blogs would be going platinum so fast that all those other bloggers wouldn’t know what hit them; my blog would look like a jewelry store with more bling than Nelly’s grill, while theirs looked like a flea market.

Hoes from every area code would be reading my shit, making my Google AdSense account rain like a monsoon, drinking champagne and eating caviar while you other scrub ass bloggers are drinking a 40oz Olde English and wondering where your next meal was coming from.

I would write the blogging equivalent as such rap masterpieces as “Peanut Butter Jelly Time” from The Buckwheat Boyz or “Because I Got High” from Afroman…I was going to blog but then I got high, now I’m browsing Facebook and liking everything I see and I know why, cause I got high, because I got high, because I got high.

I am going to be the king of the mountain, standing on Mount Rushmore, while all you other freaks are traveling underground like a bunch of angst-ridden mole people.

Deuces, I’m outtie like a belly button, better wear a vest because it’s pop pop like some rolled up bubble wrap up in here, forget ballin’ we straight blogging playa.

Pour some liquor out for my fallen bloggers.

MJM

“Eating Ass”

Ass, the other white meat (or dark depending on your preference)?

A friend of mine tried to sell me on eating ass, letting me know how erotic and sensual it could be. How it added some extra spice (and that spice is also known as fecal matter) to the whole love making experience, kicked it up a notch as if it was Emeril Lagasse. **Bam**

Now when I say eating ass, I don’t mean like Hannibal Lecter with some fava beans and a nice Chianti. I mean getting all up in there as if you were in a chocolate pie eating contest. Tonguing it like an anteater would an anthill. Get the picture?

I’m not trying to knock someone’s good time here, or be an asshole (don’t eat me), I just don’t get it myself. I can’t comprehend why someone would want to eat ass and/or have their ass eaten, but to each their own.

Eating ass the epitome of dirty dining! You won't go to a restaurant because you heard there's a roach, but you're perfectly fine with eating ass? These people won't let dogs lick their face because as they say, “they know where their tongue has been” but at the same time don't mind letting their tongue go spelunking down someone’s dark and dirty cave!

I do know that you won’t ever catch me eating it! I don’t care how fine it is and/or who it’s attached to, just knowing the shit (and I mean that literally) that comes out of it is enough to make me keep my distance. You do know that the book, “Everyone Poops” isn’t a work of fiction, right?

I also wouldn’t feel comfortable having someone eat mine. I would be too freaked out. I would be worried they would come up with a shit mustache and/or with corn in their teeth trying to give me a kiss. I would have imaginations of becoming a real life human centipede, which would haunt me every time I was a participant on Naked and Afraid.

Not only that, but what if your pipes were clogged, something so fierce that not even Liquid Plumber could fix? The job requires a snake (which in this case is the tongue), and with the first sign of penetration everything would come gushing out like a puss from a popped pimple. Taking “talking shit” to a whole new level, one that it doesn’t need to be on and absolutely something that should never be witnessed.

You’re staring down the barrel, eye to hole. Cheeks held wide open so there’s nothing to hinder the shot. Then it happens! You get blasted in the face as if you were Daffy Duck and you just took a shot from Elmer Fudd to the dome during duck season. I guess depending on your partner’s diet it could be good for your skin, but just imagine the smell, the clumps falling down your face like drips from a melting ice cream cone, and in my opinion a person losing all credibility when they are seen wearing a crap mask.

You’re now there with skid marks on your forehead looking like Swamp Thing and smelling like a public restroom, and if you’re like me your last meal is quickly making its way back up your esophagus, needlessly to say ruining the moment and completely killing the mood.

So with that said, we need to forget about banning drugs and guns, and ban ass eating, because honestly nothing good can come from it. You should never have to pick a dingleberry from your teeth, not for any reason. Never mind waterboarding, you want information from the terrorists; have them get down with some ATM (Ass to mouth).

To paraphrase the great Whitney Houston, “Butt crack is whack”!

MJM

“Blow Job”

Don’t get me wrong, I love women just as much as the next red-blooded American straight male with his junk intact, but sometimes they drive me nuts, and by nuts I mean freaking bang your head against the wall bonkers.

We men are not perfect, far from it, but you women should come with a disclaimer which reads something like, "Free Sex” in big bold letters, and then the fine print would read, with purchase of ring, car, etc. and must have a high tolerance for bitching…not hating, just saying.

There have been many times where I’ve considered swearing off women altogether, at least the living ones, and I’m not contemplating necrophilia here so get your mind out of the gutter you sick freaks, but maybe checking into purchasing one of those blowup women.

And when I say blowup, of course I don't mean with explosives, I'm talking about with air, you know giving them a blow job if you will.

You have issues with a rubber woman there is no "I'm sorry" times infinity, no bouquets of flowers and/or fine jewelry (depending on how bad you screwed up), just a can of fix-a-flat and a bike pump is all you need.

You don't have to spend any money on them to get them to put out, when you're ready to go you won't ever get shot down by the infamous "headache" line and best of all there is nothing off limits when it comes to banging the gong, if you catch my drift.

You want a threesome, a foursome or even a fivesome, no problem, just pick up a few more inflatable friends and you’re good to go.

You could even pick up a blowup man doll if you wanted to see what it would be like to be gay, just in case you were “curious”, and with all participants being airheads (no offense blondes) you would never have to worry about your bedroom shenanigans getting out to all your buddies and being made fun of.   

When all is said and done you can just shove her in the closet or any other out of the way place, leaving the whole bed to yourself with no one to steal the covers and/or complain what you watch on the boob tube to go to sleep to.

I would definitely recommend deflating and running her through the dishwasher at least once a week or so, otherwise you’re left with a big sticky mess on your hands, and who wants that.

Does this piece come off as sexiest, or possibly even a little crazy, I’m sure it does but what can I say, when it comes to women I love the sex but all the other stuff I can do without.

I’m sure that you women, if honest, would admit that if there was an artificial man doll thingy with none of our gross traits that you despise and all of the good stuff that you love, you would jump on him (no pun intended) in a heartbeat.

Sex toys bring all the joys and none of the hassles, so save your time, money and sanity and pick up a blowup doll, things would be a lot less stressful if everyone heeded the words.

MJM

“Feeding the Fitness Frenzy”

It’s no big secret that most people don’t like to work out, they will find any reason imaginable to avoid getting all sweaty and nasty, it’s very sad and completely unhealthy but unfortunately it’s true.

With that knowledge firmly planted in my brain, and not wanting the planet to look like a worldwide Klumps (Hercules Hercules) convention, I decided to do something about it; I wanted to find a way that would make working out fun and thrilling for all you fat bastards out there.  

After thinking long and hard (huh huh) about it, I came to the conclusion that the best way to get people excited about working out would be to fuse it with something that they do enjoy, like for example…wait for it…eating.

First, we add dumbbells to all the eating utensils, that way while people eat the food they love, they will simultaneously be burning the calories they are consuming and strengthen their arms in the process, a total win win situation if you ask me.

Next, we need to get the people moving, because without cardio and only weight lifting we will have a bunch of Santa Claus looking mofos with arms like Arnold and bellies like jelly, which is absolutely no good.

Here’s my idea, we place the refrigerator on a treadmill (I know genius right), and I know what some of you haters are thinking, “would that really work” and my answer to those sum bitches would be hell to the yeah it would.

Think about it, while they are standing in front of the fridge trying to figure out what to fill their faces with, they will have to keep moving or risk being pulled away from that beautiful box of chilled goodies, thus getting in their cardio and receiving a nice delicious snack for it.  

We could also increase the size of the portions our food comes in, and no I’m not off my rocker here, believe it or not there is a method to my madness.

Think about it, people love to shove as much as humanly possible into their pie holes, there is no such thing as too much when it comes to food, at least not by our standards, and empty mouth is a sad mouth…am I right.

My thought process behind this move is that while people are shoveling the crud into their guts, sooner or later it has to come back up, their bodies can only hold so much, so in a way it is like instant bulimia.

Finally, and this one is only for the straight dudes out there, we serve all meals to them on gay people, because you know, if they eat it they will catch gay, and what heterosexual male in their right mind wants that.

There you go, my eating for fitness plan, of course it is still a work in progress, but when all is said and done people will be eating to be fit, not fat…won’t that be frigging awesome.

MJM

“It Snot Coming Out”

Have you ever had one of those boogers that just wouldn’t come out, no matter what you did, or how hard you blew (get your mind out of the gutter) it just wouldn’t move?

It was like a large boulder blocking the entrance to a cave, it hinders you breathing and depending on the overall size of the snot, it could even weigh down your head like an anchor, making you walk all lopsided.

You try to pick it, come on we’re all adults here and have all been knuckle deep in our nostrils on more than one occasion trying to pick out a nose goblin or two, so don’t act like you think it’s “gross” and junk, but all it seems to do is push it further into your nose hole.

Since your breathing is now stifled due to the gooey bastard, thanks to your fat sausage like fingers pushing it further up the rabbit hole, you have no other choice but to try the infamous snot rocket.

Before launching the mucus missile you must make sure that you are not aiming your blow hole at anyone and/or anything that you would not want to get snot on, because try explaining to the person sitting on the seat in front of you on the bus that he/she has some of you sticky grodie DNA on the back of their head.

Now you close up the open nostril and blow as hard as you can with the hopes of the booger breaking free and shooting out of your nose like a “rocket”, but for whatever reason it doesn’t move and you find yourself lightheaded and dizzy like as if you were just run through a washing machine’s spin cycle.

With your snot rocket attempt failing like the Presidents attempt on healthcare, you now have to find another way to dislodge the little green/brown glob of death from your nose, and the next logical step would be to sniff a whole bunch of pepper and hope as a result of it that you have a sneeze powerful enough that it shoots the snot out like a canon.

The sneeze does come as planned, but to your dismay you don’t know if it worked and solved your booger dilemma, because unfortunately the sneeze threw you back and you smacked your head on something an passed out before you could find out.

When you wake the sweet taste of blood fills your mouth, because all the picking, scratching and snorting caused you to have a massive nose bleed, so needless to say things went from bad to worse with a quickness.

MJM