El Gammy’s Blog of Death

I should be the poster-boy for the fart pillow: the all-absorbing, technological breakthrough device that allows me to transfer all of the poisonous, o-zone depleting gasses rotting in my intestines to a simple seat cushion without turning mostly innocent bystanders into hapless victims.

This absolutely amazing pillow works so well that I’ve decided I’m okay with the fact that humans haven’t invented the flying car yet. At one point, the lovable clerks Dante and Randal had me convinced that the true “fire from Mt.Olympus” was the flying car – and nothing else would do. But this fart pillow has convinced me that ONLY the most advanced minds on Earth could’ve been involved in its creation. The fart pillow is the epitome of human ingenuity and creativity. It is the pinnacle of our technological capabilities. That’s it. We’re done. Hang up all the lab coats and pocket protectors. It’s over.

Before I discovered the fart pillow, I had written up this flyer to post just outside my work area:

My farts are recognized by American Association of Poison Control Centers

WARNING: If it smells absolutely rancid, putrid, malodorous or otherwise disruptive and disorienting in this area, it’s probably because I just farted.

Rest assured that I do everything within my ability to eliminate the stench as soon as possible through advanced air circulation methods and the application of the latest air-freshening technology.

If you value our friendship or working relationship, it is best to ask “is it safe?” within a 5 foot radius (min.) of The Dark Knight, Guardian of QA. Please do not judge, as this gaseous pestilence is the result of a documented medical condition (feel free to ask).

Luckily, the fart pillow has allowed my co-workers and I to peacefully co-exist and avoid full-scale, intra-office chemical warfare.

If you’re wondering what the fuck the title to this post is all about, look no further than to this genius drawing by the little black kid from the new Role Models movie:

Now, after I saw the first couple of safe-for-TV trailers, I thought this was gonna be just another run-of-the-mill movie – like Daddy Day Care or something, but after seeing the following NOT-safe-for-TV-trailer, I’ve decided I’m going to make a significant effort to go check it out:

Undoubtedly, the plot will inevitably lead to the two dudes forming a bond and connecting with their respective strange kid-pals, so I can only hope that they WILL NOT be better off than when they first met and ultimately come to hate each other. But nonetheless, this is a movie so they have to give it a happy, sappy ending where everyone loves each other, all the characters learn their lessons and nobody get killed. Oh well, as long as the ride along the way is funny and entirely inappropriate, I’ll take it I guess.

Oh – and you don’t have to thank me for giving you this post, your mom already thanked me last night while I was doing her by reaching back and tickling my balls, dface.

After reading the latest post on Stuff God Hates, I was compelled to let all 5 of you who read El Gammy’s blog know about it. God is a fucking funny dude, but He’s got a short fuse, and I’m sure as hell He would smite me if I didn’t link to His divine blog immediately.

But before you go on reading His all-powerful words, please let me give you the fair warning He does before every regular, non-Q&A post:

Prepare thyself, he who reads this, to tremble and quake before the Incredible Word of God, as written by THE LORD HIMSELF!

You’ve been warned. Unless you’re a turd, you’re gonna laugh your ass off. Check the full list of Stuff God Hates here.

And for the record, women are definitely one of the things he abhors. In fact, He keeps coming back to His extreme Holy hatred towards them, which – when you think about it – makes a whole lot of sense. Why else would women be cursed with periods, the inability to pee standing up, use reason, think rationally and carry the unimaginable burden of having “feelings” and “emotions” unless God absolutely detested them?

This here is El Gammy’s bloggy reach-around to ButterflySuicide.com and friends.

But before any of you cocksmokers from PETI (People for the Ethical Treatment of Insects) start bitching at me and request that I be crucified like the modern-day messiah that I am, let me first explain that the morose motherfuckers over at Butterfly Suicide don’t get off on watching winged insects offing themselves with tiny little guns or hanging themselves with mini-nooses (that would be awesome… I just realized) – well, at least I don’t think they do – no, instead they get off on:

…toilet humor, bad jokes, funny shit, video reviews, videos we find humorous, funny videos, stupid videos, funny pictures, stupid pictures, and babes. [Plus] Man Humor, cussing, penis jokes, funny things about women’s erogenous zones, and Little Johnny jokes.

Yes, these self-proclaimed perverts by the names of JaceOne and Tuefel have formed an unholy alliance with my merry band of perverts (holydouche! and Jeley the Propietor of Chicken Effed Bacon) to form what we have come to know as a “beautiful circle jerk of lunacy and perversion.”

Together we will conspire to read each others blogs and make witty comments on them to show off our cleverness and/or demean the douchesticks we regularly poke fun of, because well… let’s face it: it makes us feel damn good about ourselves. Plus, by adding me as one of their blogfriends, ButterflySuicide.com will only be 3 friends away from forming SuperMegaFuckyoutron and taking over the world.

Who knew cross-linking could be so goddamn powerful? Well, besides me, of course…

Okay, I admit it: Pink Floyd is bad-ass. Especially “Wish You Were Here.” I can’t stop listening to that goddamn song. Something about it just soothes me. It makes me think of an old friend that I never had yet I still wish was here.

When I first listened to Pink Floyd, I wasn’t terribly impressed, and I failed to see why everyone made such a big deal about them. But now that I’ve given them an honest shot, I’m a total Pink Floyd convert, or Pink Floydian, which I think is a better term for people who like Pinky and the Floyd (Narf).

My boss holysmith! is the biggest, most devoted Pink Floydian I know, and it’s because of him that I even have their music and know anything about them. He is constantly making Pink Floyd references, and no longer wanting to be kept in the dark, I knew I needed to become somewhat fluent in Floydish to catch at least a small portion of them.

I believe David Gilmour (should be spelled Gilmore, like Happy does it, but that’s another post) is the one singing in “Wish You Were” (correct me if I’m wrong here holysmith. Oh yeah… and don’t fire me). He sings that song like he really wishes that person was here, as if singing the song might somehow make his wish come true. I could be mental, but I can hear some pain and possibly heartache in his voice as he sings, which is another reason why that song rules.

From a musical standpoint, the guitars sound incredible. One of the guitars gets a special effect during the bridge that makes it sound like the guitar itself is crying. At the risk of sounding gay, I will also note that the fucking piano sounds beautiful. Nothing stands out about the drums or bass, but that’s the way it should be, as they mesh seamlessly with the rest of the instruments while providing that uniquely relaxing rhythm.

Anyways, I’m not much of a music critic, so you can lick my salty chocolate balls before you start giving me shit about my “Wish You Were Here” review. I just know that song rules, and not liking it is the equivalent of blowing 17 goats.