Monday, May 31, 2010

Best Spinning Phone Ever

Lieutenant Jenkems currently holds the record for longest phone spin on the east coast. Here is the proof and feel free to e-mail us if you can beat it.

Pictured above is the phone that was able to last for 16 seconds flat.

Swish Tying The Knot?

According to, Nick Swisher is engaged to Joanna Garcia, a scientologist. What does this mean for the pinstriped right fielder? Probably very little, other than the fact that he'll be too busy to snag pop flies in the outfield because he'll be making prophesies in accordance with the moon/stars. Not to mention it will be a little creepy for other Yankees to walk into the clubhouse after games to find him chanting in Parseltongue while stirring a cauldron filled with "potions". His locker will be adorned with dreamcatchers and posters of Tom Cruise and don't be surprised if Swisher legally changes his name to something like "Burning Mountain".

Scientologists better condone doggy packing because Swisher will probably commit suicide if his dog days are over.

Sunday, May 30, 2010

Coaster of the Week - Owners Box at a Bon Jovi Concert

(We are currently in the process of trying to get new Giants Stadium to be called "Walsh")

Verse of the Week (Light Up) - Drake

Fresh song that got leaked of Drake's new album "Thank Me Later". Make sure to go out and buy the album to support him. Countdown until the album drops: 16 days

I've been up for 4 days
Getting money both ways
Dirty and clean, I could use a glass of cold Spades
Rolexes, chauffeurs and low fades
I keep thinking how young you can die from old age
They always tell me nobody's working as hard as you
And even though I laugh it off, man, it's probably true
Cuz while all of my closest friends out partying
I'm just here making all the music that they party to
But party on, party on, all night nigga
I got these new rappers nervous prom night nigga
I've grown tired of these fucking grown man liars
Storytellers, they ain't even need a campfire
Uhh, but I just wanna tell the truth
Before one of these haters load a couple shells and shoot
This shit feel like when Fredro Starr was at Sunset Park
Stuntin' hard in his yellow Goose
Yeah, but I'm a ma'fuckin' missed target
But a target nonetheless and I just started
Was that directed at moi? It can't be
They must be talking to themselves, hoes hands free
Yeah, and I'm just filling up this daily planner
Gettin' busy 'cause I'm a star, no spangled banner
Jealous dudes get to talkin' in they music
And I just say I wrote it for your girlfriends, Kelsey Grammar
Yeah, that's what life becomes when you're doing you
Welcome to Hollywood, don't let this town ruin you,
And if you pillow talking with the women that are screwin' you
Just know that she gon' tell another nigga when she through wit you
Don't get impatient when it takes too long
Drink it all even when it tastes too strong
Yeah, I gotta feel alive, even if it kills me
I promise to always give you me, the real me

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Get Skinny or Die Trying

So apparently 50 cent is still heated that he didn't clean up at the Oscars for Get Rich or Die Tryin' and has taken to acting again. He's now playing a football player that gets diagnosed with cancer in "Things Fall Apart". I'm gonna throw it out there-these pictures are fucking creepy. There's no way this is the same man who took us all to the candy shop some years ago. This can't be the same dude that taught my Stunt 101 class.

Fitty slimmed from 214 to 160. 160?! I was 160 my freshman year of high school (before I drank 4 Muscle Milks a day, whether I worked out or not-the key to my success these days). I'm very grossed out by Fitty's weight loss. He looks more like an extra out of Blood Diamond.

A Sad Day For America

Jared Allen's trademark mullet is no more ... at least for now.

The Minnesota Vikings' star defensive end, known as much for his hairstyle as well as his ability to get to the opposing team's quarterback, lost his mullet as he gets ready for his upcoming wedding.

"The things men do for love," Allen told

Allen, who often says his mullet is a "lifestyle," has capitalized on the popularity of his hairdo, selling "Mullet Militia" T-shirts and including a "mullet generator" on his iPhone app, where users can try out the "lifestyle" for themselves.

In a 2009 interview, Allen explained his love and respect for his mullet.

"The mullet isn't just a hairdo. It's definitely a lifestyle. You're carrying on a legacy," he said "If I approach you from the front, it's like, wow, that dude is pretty serious. Then I walk away and you're like, damn, he likes to party. With two Rs."

Good god. Bust out your white flags and brush up on your French everybody, because America has gone soft today. A haircut for a woman? Jared, with all due respect, she wouldn't be marrying you if she didn't like the mullet. Don't give me this "the things men do for love" excuse. The things you do for love are gobble up NFL quarterbacks and do a fucking badass dance afterwards. The things you do for love are make PETA cringe by spearing innocent elk and laugh about it after. Let's make one thing clear, the only reason your wife/fiancee/devilwoman isn't making Anti-Bro of the Week is because she doesn't have a penis.

America has endured many struggles: Vietnam, the War on Christmas, seeing Joakim Noah win a National Championship, the release of Sandlot 2, the Yu-Gi-Oh phase (or Furbees, take your pick), Shoeless Joe Jackson throwing games for money, the assassination of James Garfield, Rice Krispie Treat cereal being taken off our shelves, and the release of scientific data that drinking and driving does in fact lead to a greater risk of accident. But this is the last straw. Allen would be just another face in the NFL crowd without the mullet. Damn near everybody in the NFL is a badass, save Martin Gramatica. The only thing cool left about Allen now is the dance and his jersey number-69. Only a man with a mullet would have the audacity to drop a little sexual innuendo on his workclothes. Now that his locks have ascended to mullet heaven, how are we supposed to know that the number is in fact a joke and not just one randomly assigned to Allen? I'm literally balling crying as I write this. I'm gonna go finish a tub of Mint Chip on my own while watching A Walk to Remember and really consider if life is still worth living.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010


A mobile phone company has suspended the number 0888 888 888 – after every single person assigned to it died in the last 10 years.

The first owner Vladimir Grashnov – the former CEO of Bulgarian mobile phone company Mobitel which issued the number – died of cancer in 2001 aged just 48.

Despite a spotless business record there were persistent rumours that his cancer had been caused by a business rival using radioactive poisoning.

The number then passed to Bulgarian mafia boss, Konstantin Dimitrov, who was gunned down in 2003 by a lone assassin in the Netherlands during a trip to inspect his £500 million drug smuggling empire.

Dimitrov, who died aged 31, had the mobile with him when he was shot while eating out with a model.

Russian mafia bosses – jealous of his drug smuggling operation – were said to have been behind the killing.

The phone number then passed to Konstantin Dishliev, a crooked businessman, who was gunned down outside an Indian restaurant in Bulgaria's capital Sofia after taking over the jinxed line.

Dishliev, an estate agent, had secretly been running a massive cocaine trafficking operation before his assassination in 2005.

I don't know about you but there no doubt is a conspiracy going on behind this. There is no way three people should die in a ten year span, all with the same telephone number. I didn't even think what happens to your telephone number when you die. What happens if you have a friends number, they die, then a few years later you're getting this chicks number and they have the exact same one as your friend? Would you keep it? Hopefully no one reading this has this number because if you do, well, you're screwed.

Lil Romeo Leaves USC Basketball Team

LOS ANGELES -- Percy Miller, a sophomore guard at USC better known for his career in music and acting under the stage names Romeo and Lil' Romeo, has decided to leave the team, the school announced Friday.

Miller, who is the son of rap mogul Master P, played in nine games in two seasons for USC, logging 19 minutes. He scored five points and recorded three rebounds and an assist.

Well there goes USC's season. If the recruiting violations and wins over BC in both the NCAA tournament 2 seasons ago as well as last year's Emerald Bowl weren't enough, this has solidified my hate for this school. Dropping Lil' Romeo? (Let's be honest, there's no way he "decided to leave the team", he was cut-look at that statline). Have the goons in Southern California not seen Like Mike? What? That was Lil' Bow Wow? Oh my bad. Still, their ticket sales are literally gonna be cut in half now that Percy is gone. Oh well, Percy will have to resort to still getting poon from all angles, and never, ever, ever attending class. Life for him will certainly be more quiet now though. He says he looks forward to a comfortable life of cooking, knitting, and makin' em say "uh".

Breaking News: David Ortiz is Slow

David Ortiz became the first player in the 2010 season to take more than 30-seconds to trot around the bases after a home run. With four of the top five slowest home run trots of the year already - all four of which were clocked in at 28.95 seconds or slower - it seemed inevitable that he would be the first to break the half-minute barrier. With his laser beam down the right field line in the second inning of tonight's game, he finally did it.

Cincinnati's Scott Rolen averages 18.43 seconds to round the bags. He would already be in the dugout finishing up his last chest-bumps and crackin' a Cope by the time Ortiz would step on home. David Ortiz's days as a Sox (sock?) are numbered. That's why this man relishes every dinger he gets these days, milking his time as he takes his lap of victory. I really can't take Ortiz seriously anymore. I am not and will never be a fan of the Sox, but I just don't get the all-out adoration Sox fans have for their players. Nomar, Papi, Youk, Ellsbury, the list goes on and on and those 4 were all from the last decade. Sox fans acted like their first-born was kidnapped when Pedro was traded (I won't even mention the Great Bambino). If Ortiz (.238 average last season) didn't have the persona and rep that he has among the big leagues, he would not be starting on any Major League roster. Yeah, he's had a good month recently, but every dog has their day. If his name held no significance around the league, he would probably be hitting about .290 in Double A right now. As I write this, J.D. Drew happens to be the only player on the squad beating Ortiz in strikeouts-Drew has 43, Ortiz has 40. Drew has also had 41 more at-bats than Ortiz. Drew also happens to be a washed-up has-been whose jersey is likely crumpled in your garage underneath an old mini-fridge you don't use anymore. Enjoy every step Papi, you've had a good run...err, stroll.

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Top 500 Feelings - #379 Executing the Perfect Eyefuck

The eyefuck, when executed correctly, is the most potent weapon in the world. You spy a girl at a bar/house party/classroom and cast Casanova glances in her direction until she returns them with a look that essentially guarantees at the very least a D-Floor makeout. The look often says "Why don't we skip all the formalities and go smush cheeks in the bathroom right now?"

One thing has to be said: Women are better at eyefucking than men. Now I may just think this because I don't enjoy looking at men when they are in eyefuck-mode, but I honestly think women have captured the game much better than us. We have Blue Steel, and that's pretty much it. Anything else will just say to a girl, "Hey, I'm (insert name) and one of 3 things is about to happen: We're going to make out, I'm going to watch you all night, or I'm going through all 81 of your profile pics on Facebook as soon as I go home, spending extra time on your Halloween and Miami '09 pictures." Keep in mind option 3 often occurs anyway if option 1 or 2 happen.

Eyefucking someone without getting one in return from them isn't always the worst thing. You didn't really lose anything-Let's say the girl calls you out on it (which wouldn't happen because girls have no balls, pun intended). You can just laugh, maybe throw in a hair-flip, and say that's how your eyes always are. Plus, it's not like you asked them to dance and they said no, they just didn't send back a look of pure sluttery your way. The eyefuck defines what we like to call "Low risk, high reward".

Best World Cup Ad Yet

Long but good. Less than 20 days until the whole country acts like they know about soccer.

We Like Sports And We Don't Care Who Knows!

Friday, May 21, 2010

Favre Admits He Could Give 2 Shits if He Played Next Year

HATTIESBURG, Miss. -- Brett Favre says he still isn't sure what he's doing next season, but he may have given some indication after visiting with the Southern Miss baseball team.


The Minnesota Vikings quarterback told the Golden Eagles on Thursday morning that if they can make it back to the College World Series for the second straight year, he will return for one more season in the NFL.

Southern Miss players have a lot of work to do if they want to force Favre into action. They are 30-20 and need wins to earn a postseason invitation.

Finally a decision from Favre. Oh no, wait, just more toying with our emotions. I guess this is the type of shit you can pull if you're the best QB to ever live (my opinion, not all of Broston's). You have to hand it to him though. It motivates his alma mater and gets him yet another mention in the news. This will only add to the all-out fellacio thrown at Favre this summer from the likes of Ed Werder and Mark Schlereth...and you know Pedro Gomez will get his two cents in too. The only meaningful thing in the whole ESPN article is that this shows Favre is healthy and ready to play. No one has a bigger stiffy for playing football than Favre (P. Manning, R. Lewis, and Mike Alstott come in with honorable mention-boners in this category). Favre will be back, and yes, so will the Wrangler commercials that represent all that is America.

P.S.- I give Barstool 3 hours to post a similar article.

Selling Back Books...With Attitude

This rebel with a cause was spotted outside McElroy. He was lugging a load of books back to sell, and after he filled his rather questionable recyclable shopping bag (I think that's what it is), he resorted to storing Principles of Macroeconomics and Nicomachean Ethics in an empty 30. Subject was unavailable for interview (probably loading up an empty keg with laundry he had to take home). We salute you sir.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Skoal In His Veins?

Some people wonder what makes The Great Fratsby so great...

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Chafe - Sibling Car Situation

For those of you who don't have any siblings, you're going to have a tough time relating to this. For those of you who have siblings that can't drive yet, you'll one day feel the pain of this chafe. New drivers come in one at a time in families (unless you're twins (but not if you're Siamese twins!)). There usually is only enough cars to go around for the first driver, then parents feel like they did their part and let the kids battle it out for who gets the car when there are more drivers than vehicles. You'd think seniority always comes out on top but that's not the case. The younger siblings think that when older bro or older sis goes away to college, they inherit the car. They think that you have to start asking them to use the car even though it was rightfully yours in the first place. When you come home you forget that you can't walk everywhere and remember how much you need a car again just to do the littlest of chafes (chores = chafes, they are synonyms). The argument usually ends up with Mom and Pop taking the side of the youngest sibling since they have dealt with their bullshit for a couple years less. The car used to be at your disposal whenever you wanted it but not anymore. Now whenever you need it, you can't have it, and when you don't need it, is when you got it. The only way to get what's yours now-a-day is through the use of physical force. I'm not saying kick the shit out of your sibling to get the car but give them a charlie horse once in a blue moon and remind them whose boss around these parts. Let them know that this summer it's not going to be ok for them to take the car over you. The only time you should be letting them drive is when they are your designated driver for the night, then we'll see how much they like having their license.

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Beer Wall

Courtesy the Class of Bro'9

Where Are They Now? -

What a year. What a goddamn year. Ten weeks (or so) ago we started this masterpiece of a blog. Here we are over 115,000 hits later, still going as strong as when we launched. It's been an amazing ride, and it's thanks to all of you. To be honest (lesbianis), back in March when the site went up, we really weren't sure how it was going to be received, but we took our chance, things just sort of worked out, and we got way bigger than we envisioned we would. If we gave you a breather from Biblical Heritage or Managerial Accounting during finals week, or you laughed at a single post, or you sent your buddy one video that we put up, well, then we accomplished what we set out to do. But the questions remain: What now? What next?

For starters, and I hate to blow the punch-line early, but we're not going anywhere. We won't be posting with the same consistency this summer, because you won't be reading with the same consistency. You're going to be in the Hamptons, or Nantucket, or on the Cape or the Vineyard, on the beach, not sitting in Fulton looking for something funny on the Internet. That being said, we're still going to be putting stuff up. Top 25 events to pre-game for, tons of BroTube for those of you stuck in an office interning, and we'll still be writing about funny shit that happens to us during the summer (summer chafes for college kids, stuff like that). So keep e-mailing us, and check in once in a while to see what's up.

As far as next Fall goes, we'll be coming back with a vengeance. BrostonPalooza (that literally could mean anything), apparel (bar hats, t-shirts, etc.), bar parties, house parties, pizza parties (top 500 - pizza parties in middle school?). Broston is going to be a fully invasive, unstoppable force that we hope will make next year a fun one, and at the very least, an interesting one. To our devout readers: We love you. To our haters: We love you more.

- Broston College

Top 500 Feelings - #299 Parents Saying Yes To A Sleepover

Now, I can honestly say I still have about 3-4 sleepovers a week, but most of them are due to the fact that I can't operate a vehicle well enough to get me from point A to point B. So for this feeling you got to take a stroll down memory lane and remember the days when you used to have to call your parents before 10 O'Clock to give them an update on the night and how it's ending. Try and remember the days when sleepovers weren't impulsive decisions. The days when you used to set up a Friday night sleepover on a Monday. Everyone had their go-to parent who was usually more lenient than the other and thus twice as likely to say "Yes" to a sleepover. They would always be your first option but half the time would just redirect you to the other parent because they didn't want to make the final decision, or because they just didn't care enough. Sometimes you would even get redirected back to the original parent you asked, which usually meant that the probability of the sleepover was high. Your friends would only be able to hear one side of the conversation on the phone too. They'd hear your plea for a sleepover, providing a list of reasons as to why you won't be tired, what time you're "planning" on going to bed, the word please at least five times, and a big "thank you" when you finally receive confirmation. It was a great feeling when you knew you'd get to extend the night with your bro's and have a surplus of time to talk chicks. You'd finally have enough time to beat Golden Eye and make as many prank phone calls as your heart desired. Sleepovers were better than sex, so the confirmation to have one is undoubtedly a top 500 feeling.

Saturday, May 15, 2010

Let's Just Keep Them Coming

Got this from a comment from one of our readers....fresh

Chafe - Bombing A Practice Test

There isn't much out there that is more demoralizing than bombing a practice test the day before a final. You think you finally got a handle on the material and you go to test your abilities but come back with a sore butt, courtesy the "Not So Basic" Finance practice test. You then start to panic and think all the studying you've done (or lack there of) was for nothing. Most people wave the white flag at this point but some people get even more motivated (atleast I think some people do). Sometimes it's even worse when you get an easy practice test from the previous year because you think to yourself, "if only I had this test tomorrow." Yeah, and if only you started studying a day earlier. If only you could steal the final. If only Notorious B.R.O. jumped off the top of O'Neill. If only Delante West didn't fuck Lebron's Mom.....

Verse of the Week - Brown Paper Bag

Just spent a 100 of that brown paper bag money
It feel good to be young money cash money
Rehab I'm addicted to fast money
I got stacks and rubber bands up in that

Brown paper bag (you're dig)
Brown paper bag (my name is weezy you all)
Brown paper bag (I'm here on behalf of young money cash money)
Brown paper bag (I represent 17 road of New Orleans let's go)

Practice makes perfect I'm relaxing at rehearsal
I'm gonna motherfucking professional like Hershal Walker,
the talk of the game is I, but I wonder if he'll still be talking after I die
But that's not important
Money's more important
And understand I been in that water like I was snorkeling
Understand I been in that water like I'm a dolphin
Miami Khaled took me in like a orphan
Why did they start him?
Now they can't park him
I go into the booth and just change like Clark Kent
Lamborghini dark tint
Philly blunts cigar scent
I'm by myself and niggas run they mouths like auctions
To streets my brother
Fefe's my brother
And we stay on point like a fucking box cutter
you heard what I said motherfucker did I studder
With my brown paper bag, here to represent the hustle I'm out

Friday, May 14, 2010

History Has Been Made

Another gem submitted by a reader. Check it.

Loud Music Out Of Headphones

Now, not all of us are fortunate enough to have sick noise canceling headphones. Rather, most of us don't have the balls to wear them on the walk to class. What we settle with are either the white iPod ear buds or a better version of Bose ear buds. The problem? Everyone can hear what you are listening to. Before you pick sides of who's right and who's wrong, let me dive into this topic and give you a look from both perspectives.

Guy NOT with headphones: No one enjoys listening to someone else's music through headphones. It's basically loud enough so that you're paying attention, but too quiet to actually hear what the lyrics are. We get it, you're jamming out on your walk to class. Can you at least have a little courtesy and turn it down a notch? I'm hungover from Thursday night and really don't need any unnecessary noise in my life right now. You give a look or two hoping they will pick up on your hint, but after a while you realize they're selfish and that they're going to continue to jam out as loud as they can.

Guy with headphones: It is not tough being this character. First off, if you are in an enclosed environemnt (i.e. an elevator), everyone can hear what you're listening to. This means when you're blasting "Damn It Feels Good To Be A Gangster" by Geto Boys, the black kid in the elevator is going to judge you and give you a look that basically says, "Change the fucking song." So you seek to the next song (via shuffle) and what else comes on other than "Forever and Always" by Taylor Swift. Now that really hot chick in your Econ class thinks you're a total pussy and you can kiss goodbye any chance you may have had of getting with her. Your music selection is very limited and usually dwindles down to the options of: Dave Mathews Band, Slightly Stoopid, or any and all Classic Rock. All you want to do is enjoy your music peacefully (and by peacefully I mean on full blast) without getting looks like you're Mike Ross. There's a reason why you have headphones in and aren't walking around with a giant boombox on your shoulder. You don't want to be bothered. That means when someone sees you with headphones in, no conversation should be started. Not only do you want to be left alone while listening to music on your way to class (after flight school of course) but you sure as hell don't want to deal with the approaching-person-headphone-chafe. When you see someone in the distance and it looks like they want to talk, do you pull one earbud out? Do you take them both out? Do you unplug your chord? Do you pause the iPod as a whole? None of the above. You give a head nod and continue traversing the Sahara Desert to get to Carney.

So before you pass judgment either way, just put yourself in their shoes, or better yet, their headphones. We are a loud generation and we listens to loud music. If you can't beat them, join them. Start a little sing-a-long on the elevator and maybe everyone will cheer up.

P.S. The kids that do wear the giant headphones probably are the ones that love haters also.

Love When Barstool Brightens My Day

Uncle Chafe is chafed. No shock there. I'm in the Brighton Library (I know, very sketchy, but it really is the best kept secret of BC finals Week - close to Walsh, virtually empty, printers out the fucking ass, and really nice 70's decour. I'm divulging this secret now because I'm done tomorrow and could care less if you invade my oasis any point thereafter), studying Environmental Law. At this juncture I've definitely spent more time calculating the lowest possible score I can get tomorrow to retain my B in the class than I have spent actually studying (iPhone calculators are tough to operate, get off my ass). Besides for that, what would you expect any sane, conventional BC student to be doing in the midst of a study grind? Checking Broston College of course. But, since I write for the site and can basically repeat every post verbatim, I occasionally have to settle for less comical, less interesting, less original blogs.

Yes, I'm talking about the weasel Portnoy. Now kids at Umass Amherst and Johnson and Wales (what the fuck is Johnson and Wales?) may be pretty intrigued with this jabroni's wit, and I assume many are amused by his work daily. Well friends, his posts amuse me for drastically different reasons. The only time I get tickled by a Portnoy post is when I know he's stolen it from me. Needless to chay, he jacked another post a day late. Dear Barstool, I have been grinding my balls off all week, studying for 4 finals in 3 days, blogging only when my head feels like it's going to explode, and you still can't keep up? It's like a Major League player, whose job it is to play baseball, not being able to keep up with Benny the Jet, who just fucks around with his boys in the Sandlot ripping the cover off the ball when he feels like it. I really don't care, I'm above it, but if he wants to work for us he should just ask politely, don't you think?

Sean Williams - History Will Be Made

Courtesy of the immortal Mod 17-A (17-Chay).

Waring: Tornado Watch

TV weatherman Bill Harding is trying to get his tornado-hunter wife, Jo, to sign divorce papers so he can marry his girlfriend Melissa. But Mother Nature, in the form of a series of intense storms sweeping across Oklahoma, has other plans. Soon the three have joined the team of stormchasers as they attempt to insert a revolutionary measuring device into the very heart of several extremely violent tornados.

This movie was on the other day and we began watching it after flight school. Has anyone actually seen this in recent years? The plot line is absolutely ridiculous. These nerdy scientists basically get off to chasing storms. They get boners over trucks, and the major conflict in the film is the pure storm chasers (soul chasers) versus corporate storm chasers (yeah corporate even drives black, hi-tech vehicles just like you'd picture). The graphics are above average, especially for being filmed in '96. What still baffles me is how Hollywood actually went through and produced this. It must have put on the invisibility cloak when it went by the Hollywood hierarchy. If you ever get another chance to watch this film, please do. It has an all star cast and an absurd plotline that will keep you on the edge of your seat. Hey, it kept me watching so obviously someone did something right. Or I just learned a lot at flight school.

Thursday, May 13, 2010


There is a grave and sinister new threat facing our college sons nationwide. College girls are now “vajazzling” their privates with jewels in efforts to tempt our solid, young men into fornicating with them and having babies.

Females are distracting young men from their studies, hindering their academic progress and dreams of becoming the doctors, lawyers and corporate executives of the next generation.

All right, first of all, I grabbed this off of a website titled “” if that doesn’t tell you how retardedly bad I am at studying then I can’t help you. Let me just say upfront, I love the guy who wrote this article, Derek Van Buren is his alleged name. And whether good ol’ DVB meant to be or not, he’s an absolute hero. OK he may be clinically insane, but he’s a hero nonetheless.

Beside for the obvious obscurities this guy is rambling on about, this article is absolutley loaded. For starters, the word “whore” is mentioned 33 times(I F-commanded it). And the lines that this freak is coming up with are absolutely priceless. Now don’t get me wrong here, this guy is clearly out of his fucking mind. But you can’t deny, the man is a magician with words and he is just dropping gem after gem after gem (vajazzling gems, if you will).

“College girls are now ‘vajazzling’ their privates with jewels in efforts to tempt our solid, young men into fornicating with them and having babies.”—What. The. Fuck?

Is this actually a trend? Are there actually girls out there getting jewels super glued around their pussies? I mean, I’ve met some girls that I thought were pretty fucking insane in my day, but my God… To be honest I don’t even know what to think of a girl with a sparkling pussy. Are sparkling pussies cool? Are they better than regular pussies? I never really thought about it, I thought pussies were pretty cuello the way they were.

And according to Van Buren these vajazzled vaginas (say that 5 times fast) are bad news for us college bros. Apparently these sluts are gonna try to bewilder us with there shimmery majestic vagina jewels and lure us so they can murder us, or whatever this freak was talking about. It’s also not their fault:

“We cannot fully fault college girls for being a victim of their feeble, near-sighted minds. It is innate to the XX gene-set.”

I feel you DVB. Speak the truth.

Quick scenario: You're hooking up with some chick in your bed, things start getting intense, ipso facto her pants come off. Now, no matter what type of approach you initially take at going down south; (hand, face, cock—whatever), when you eventually get down there you feel little tiny jewel-like bumps all over her FUPA- (or let's pray there's no F and it's just an UPA)—“What the fuck are these?” Then you get a glimpse of it. You can’t really tell what it is, but it kind of looks like a baby unicorn or a seahorse or something really flamboyant. Its made entirely of jewels and its completely covering this broad's UPA—Now my first reaction would be “Whoa this slut is a fucking alien.” I’d then proceed to call the Men in Black (I got Big Willie style on speed dial, so that’s a no brainer).

But if you're positive this girl is human, your next move obviously depends on how hot this girl is. I’m thinking any thing below a 919(on the face: yes or no: body rating system), warrants a get-the-fuck-out-of-there. But for a 919, fuck it, I’d vajazzle myself. I’d make a sick dragon, an outline of Jimmy Buffet's face or something really badass. Or I guess in that case ‘penisjazzle’ might be more accurate term? I’m not too familiar with the Jazzle Industry these days.

As a side note I think I just decided that ‘vajazzle’ is my new favorite verb. “Yo, Vajazzle me that beer bro!”…Love it.

So in final, I’m gonna close with a message to all you parents out there. To quote my boy Derek Van Buren:

“If you have a college daughter, at least talk to her and tell her to keep her antics to herself, not using her vajazzled groin in attacking young men at fraternity socials or at late night study hall meetings.”

What Is Getting Lite And How Do I Do it?

This was sent in from a reader in NYC (Yeah, we're that big now). It's like someone told these kids LeBron just signed with the Knicks already. And WHERE ON EARTH do I get a pair of those Rainbow Sprinkle Adidas that one guy was wearing? Can you say daps and stares all day in the Plex for rocking those? BAM!

FOR SALE - The Field Of Dreams

DYERSVILLE, Iowa -- In "Field of Dreams," Kevin Costner's character builds a baseball diamond out of a corn field after a voice tells him: "If you build it, he will come."

Well, now he can buy it and so can anyone else.

Don and Becky Lansing, the owners of the site near Dyersville where the field was built by Universal Studios, said Thursday they're selling the property. The asking price is $5.4 million.

The couple said they love the land, which has been in Don Lansing's family for more than a century, but they're ready to retire and give up the property.

"It's really time for us to head to the locker room. Maybe that sounds corny. I don't care," Becky Lansing told The Associated Press. "We really would just love to become spectators. We want to sit in the bleachers. We want to look forward to all that the 'Field of Dreams' will become in the future."

The "Field of Dreams" is in the middle of a cornfield in eastern Iowa. The movie, released in 1989 with Costner as its star, was based on the book "Shoeless Joe" by W.P. Kinsella.


Wow. Just wow. So let me get this straight (moving forward let's just assume for the sake of my own arousal that I have $5.4 mil lying around). If I buy it... I can build it... And then they'll come? How has this piece of land not sold yet is what I want to know. What are some of the great American pastimes? Wealth, stupidity, baseball, and Iowa. If you mix all of those together and put them into your Easy-Bake Oven what do you get? Well, presumably what you get is a fat, rich, Costner-loving hero who is gonna sign a check for this piece of heaven by Friday. Who wants to go in on this thing with me? I'm down to throw the $154.73 to my name. If anyone wants to make up the difference please e-mail us.

Where Are They Now? - L.L. Bean Backpacks

I was hoping that maybe, just maybe, L.L. Bean backpacks would've stayed in style until 2012 (when the world as we know it comes to a halt). However, somewhere along the way L.L. Bean backpacks joined the elite group of extinction alongside dinosaurs, overhead projectors, head nod's symbolizing "Sup," and Woolly Mammoths. L.L. Bean backpacks were the absolute craze back in middle school. Not only did they come in all colors, but you could even get your own initials (or those of a loved one) embroidered on your backpack (I felt bad for the kids whose initials spelled PMS, ASS, JEW, or FAG). But then, like all fads, as we grew up we grew out of them (most of us atleast, I still no-scope an L.L. Bean once in a blue moon). One day, out of nowhere (I think in October), sagging your L.L. Bean backpack below your butt just wasn't the "hip" thing anymore. It soon became an easy target for the bully Seniors in the High School (no one wanted a chocolate swirley as a frosh).

The replacement for the L.L. Bean backpacks? North Face backpacks. These new, all purpose, all terrain backpacks have as many zippers as a Club Lax Harrow bag. Wearing your backpack as tight as you can became the new backpack-sag, and the variety of cool colors diminished to just black and blue. Everyone's backpack now looks the same, and with no initials to distinguish them apart, a lot of unnecessary mix-ups occur. Where art thou L.L. Bean backpacks? I never should have abandoned you, come back to poppa. You can still get them now for prices ranging up to 40 dollars (less than (or equal to) the price of two thirties). Let's unite as one and bring them back.