Archive for June, 2010

This Is a Picture of a Penis

June 11, 2010

Talvid is fuggin’ furious. I’m more mad even than the time I was in a menage with two A-List Hollywood actorettes, who I won’t name because I’m a gentleman, and one of them, a topless Jessica Alba, made eye-contact with the other, an equally topless Jessica Biel, after I explicitly told them not to.

Where was I? Oh yeah, in a hotel room. Where the eff else do you think I’d have my own personal topless nude sex scene with A-List Hollywood actresses who I won’t name? (Jessica Biel and Jessica Alba).

But the thing I’m fuming about right now is Justin Bieber. Talvid’s team of web analysts has learned that this very blog, TaDBoS (pronounced ‘Tadboss’) has been drawing traffic from Justin Bieber fans. Why? Because teenage girls have crazy good radars for sexy shit that makes them understand that their burgeoning womanhood is not something to be afraid of and that the weird warm feeling they get in their special private place isn’t a bad thing. (Also because Talvid reviewed My World 2.0)

Some of that traffic is probably from chickenhawks too.

There might — MIGHT — be things in the world that approach Talvid’s spontaneous “O”-inciting hotness, but for Justin Bieber to ride our Gucci-brand coattails to web fame and fortune is bushleague (and I’m not talking Pac-10 softball). I’m so mad that it’s hard to concentrate on whether or not my driver is maxing out my Murcielago’s performance right now. (I’m posting from my wire-fire equipped hobby car).

So this is an open warning, Bieber. Either give Talvid a thousand dollars or stop sending hormone-addled teens with Augusta National-approved putting green pubes to TaDBoS.

You have a good life. I assume you want to keep it that way. (I know — “assume” makes an ass out of you and me. But brother, I got all the ass I need.)

$20s only.

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In Praise of This Blog

June 10, 2010

Lately, to be more exact, always, people have been coming up to me (Talvid) on the streets of Toronto and New York to waste my time with their less than Talvidian witticisms. What they generally try to eke out in some disjointed, ESL manner is, “I love your blog, it’s great.” Of course I’m paraphrasing. It’s never nearly as eloquently put as that. No offense, fans. It’s just like, you see when I’m not talking to someone who’s on Talvid’s level, or, on a side note, getting eye-diddled by some gorg’ super model, I feel a tad underwhelmsy. I know this is probably coming across as conceited or arrogant, but I can assure you that Talvid is anything but. The truth is, we’re a human being. Fallible just like the rest of you. The only difference is that when Talvid is fucking up, it appears as exactly the opposite. For example, this one time I was caught cheating on a test in Uni. (Harvard, Yale or somesuch). What’d Prof do? He high-fived me, wrote me a blank check, thanked me for servicing his wife the night before, failed the student I’d been cheating off, and, of course, gave me an A+. Look, I gotta run. The president of Canada’s waiting to chit-chat. My secretary’s saying it’s something about a Nobel peace prize for literature in regards to my blog?
Whatevs, Obama, whatevs.

The Ultimate Guide to the World Cup

June 6, 2010

I don’t know much about soccer, but I’m basically an expert. 100 yards, two goals, something like 20 players on the field at a time — this isn’t exactly rocking science. So anyone who says they know more than me about soccer is just blowing smoke up your ass. (And not in the good, I-just-paid-a-hobo-20-dollars-to-do-that kind of way.)

So after literally minutes of research, here’s the ultimate guide to the favorites at the South Africa 2010 World Cup.

Brazil: Back when I was only bagging mediocre trim, I used to live on a block with these two Brazilian kids. One was fat and the other had a speech impediment. On the plus side, they showed me my first Playboy and their mom used to walk around the house wearing a nightgown that didn’t cover her privates. Oddly enough, her boosh was a veritable Amazonian rain forest. Ten years before I knew what the term meant, I expected her to have a Brazilian. These are just some of the factors why, at the end of the day, the Selecao are one of my top picks to compete in 2010 World Cup.

England: Holy shitballs is soccer corrupt. The captain of England’s footie team is this fugmo named Rio Ferdinand. I’m not making this up. Needless to say, when Ferdinand suffered an injury just before the tournament was due to start, I wasn’t surprised. Why not? Rio. Rio. Rio de Janeiro is the fugging capital of Brazil! This dude was a reverse ringer. Also working against England is the general ugliness of their people aside from Kate Beckinsale, who I’d rock like a sexual hurricane, 1994-era Elizabeth Hurley, and Susan Boyle, who I’d throw a pity bone. At best, I can only see England winning the tournament.

Italy: Clearly the most dominant team in FIFA 94 for Sega Genesis, the Italians are poised to repeat their 2006 championship run. Key to the attack will be my ability to set the difficulty level to “Easy” before beginning play. If the Azzuri get off to their usual slow start, look for me to hit reset.

Spain: The Spaniards are notorious chokers at the highest levels of international football. But if Pau Gasol can hold his own in the post and create scoring opportunities for Kobe Bryant with his offensive rebounding, Spain has a chance to either advance deep into the tourney or go home early. And speaking of Spanish scoring opportunities — imagine what it’d be like to pussy poke Penelope Cruz. Probably pretty sweet, right?

Holland: I was in Holland once. I saw a sex show where a guy who was obviously gay boned a haggard looking lady in front of seven paying customers. Then I ate a bag of magical mushrooms and some pizza with pieces of tandoori chicken on it. If the team can replicate that mix of confusion and excitement on the pitch — and overcome my experience working for a week at a shitty ice cream parlor owned by Dutch miser who gave me a hard time about using my tongue to scoop the ice cream into the customer’s cones — they’re strong candidates to play at least three opening round games.

Argentina: The Argentines are flying high on their recent Oscar win for Best Foreign Film for “The Secrets In Their Eyes.” Can they ride that wave to a third world championship? How the fuck should I know?

Germany: As holocaust deniers well know, Germany has never been involved in anything bad. Expect that trend to continue in South Africa, with the Germans relying on their collective cultural guilt to advance into the ironically named sudden death stages, where their cold-blooded efficiency will lead observers to wonder how the same country that produced Goethe, Martin Luther, the Scorpions, pretzels, and Dirk Nowitzki could also be responsible for such overrated beer.