Huge Cocks, SUVs, and Pocket Jeff Goldblum.....

.....the only way this picture could be more American would be if a chick in an American flag bikini was playing a guitar solo on a gun shaped guitar.

WATCH ME AS I UPLOAD THE ORGASM VIRUS INTO THIS DRAWING USING MY MACBOOK!  SEE AS THE JUICE OF HAXORZ FLOWS!

*giant wiener artfully crafted by Patches of Adams.

Keeping Up With PJG: Indiana Adventures and Curry Sweat

A few weeks ago I took PJG down to beautiful (surprisingly so - kudos Indiana for not being a total shitfest) Bloomington and the University of Indiana to help my friend Peter (through whom PJG was found in a roundabout way) move in and get ready for Grad school.  PJG was none to happy to be put in a position to marinade in beer sweat and fast food grease next to my unwashed package, but I assured him that the only lulz could come from this adventure.  Reluctantly he agreed - little did he know that he would come closer to another man's junk than ever before - and he would be trapped in a curry flavored prison for 4 days.

After moving in to the new digs and enduring ceaseless bitching from my hip pocket (fine I get it you prefer the cargo pocket, but I'm sorry it just isn't as intimate as I like PJG), it was time to tour campus. 

In search of young college floozies to crawl inside of, PJG insisted we go by the football stadium.  Sadly, all he found was the gimp cart and some painters.  Here you see him clinging desperately to the fence outside the stadium, smelling the wafting paint fumes and looking for a buzz.  WHAT ARE YOU DOING PJG YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE A PAPER BAG OR A RAG.  GET DOWN FROM THERE.

PJG insisted I post this picture.  He kept muttering things about bears touching children.  Oh PJG, it seems like it doesn't take much of the ode du paint to get you going.....


After wandering about campus we got down to the most important part of moving:  drinking.  Now armed with 3 30 bricks of 'Stones and a fifth of vodka, the move began to transition into something more magical.  Songs were being written and stories being told, when it dawned on us:  we were in the perfect mood to go cruise campus under cover of night (and booze).

Now completely soaked in beer sweat, PJG began to become intoxicated, so not even he can explain much of what happened next.  Somehow he ended up in an Art building, and now full of swelling cultural interest and curiousity, he began to explore....

PJG started his tour admiring the work of the undergrad students.  PJG remarked on the kind hearts of the potheads who must have toiled over these projects, while I commented on the obvious cinnamon rolls on the piece on the right.  An argument started, but I deferred:  PJG probably knows more about fine art, being from Hollywood and all. 

PJG was clearly under the influence at this point.  Climbing all over these large cardboard pieces, he kept singing "A Whole New World" from the Little Mermaid.  PJG, you are kind of starting to gross me out, you paint huffing pederast.

No PJG, I don't think that's what the face of God would look like.  Maybe the lower intestines of God, but not face (if God does have a lower intestine, I would imagine it would be clean and free of unvoided feces, as he probably eats a pretty high fiber diet - insert cleanliness close to Godliness joke here). 

Here PJG, fully in the grip of what had to be one bad trip, tries to reenact his favorite scenes from Saw movies.  Its a good thing you put your hands up at the last minute PJG, remember safety first.  On a side note, I wonder what a sawed in half plastic nutsack looks like.  Oh well.

Shortly after PJG got tired of the band saw and began to find new ways to "look like a badass bro for the ladies, maybe learn some Dave and get some poontang", we retired back home.  What the rest of the night held, well, that may just be something that haunts PJG for the rest of his years.......

DUN DUN DAAAAAAAA!

 RUN FOR YOU LIFE PJG FORGET MODESTY GOGOGOGOGOGOGOGOGO!

NAKED ROBOT ATTACK!

Sox game 8/13 - Ninapaloza

This post is late, and I have no excuse, except alcohol.  Ninapaloza kicked off with tailgating at the Cell and a game against the Detroit Tigers.  Whats this Ninapaloza you ask?  Simply a weekend long party celebrating her recent engagement - and Pocket Jeff Goldblum could not resist coming out to cause some trouble.

PJG tries to hail a beer man - but that lush remembers HE AINT GOT NO MONEY.  Free from the pocket and away from the chance to steal from my wallet, PJG needs to find a new way to get some beer.....

PJG completes his quest.....by mooching off of me - but this will only stand for so long.  At $8 a beer, I don't have the money to support his drankin.

Oh PJG, you skank!  That's my fucking cousin!  And right in front of her husband! 

The Cousin appears to be enjoying her time with PJG, while her husband appears to be getting ready to beat his tiny plastic ass.

Suddenly another cousin swiped PJG and gave him as much beer as he could handle.  Drowning in beer sounds like a sweet way to go, how do you like that you little smarmy skank?  Unfortunately, I informed the cousin that PJG spends most of his time in my pocket, rubbing up against my junk.  PJG was quickly tossed from his watery grave.

Shortly after PJG finished clearing his lungs of beer, it began to rain on our little escapade.  Everyone went home, and the mood was good.  However, for some, the mood was better.....

Oh Nina, you so crazy.

Oh PJG, you are turning into a lush.

Last night we all celebrated the 30th birthday of the Peter Kenar.  Not one to miss a party (as if he had a choice), Pocket Jeff Goldblum tagged along for a trip to the bar.  Much to my chagrin PJG demanded release from my pocket, as signaled by many stern punches to my package.  He could smell the booze, and nothing else could cure his shakes.

Double fisting already PJG?  We had just arrived and the small plastic man made it clear:  this night he would not be fucked with.

With a beer and a Red Bull and vodka inside him, PJG began to show off his strength to Peter.  He was foolish to thing he could impress such a meast, but he tried anyway.

As if to prove some sort of choas theory nonsense, PJG stole my smoke and began to brandish it at me in a threatening manor.  For a small plastic man who spends 90% of his time nestled against my penis, he sure thinks hes hot shit.

All the drinking and violent Apple slogan shouting began to make me mad, so I made PJG sit his salty ass down and relax.  WELCOME TO FLAVOR COUNTRY ASSHOLE.

Clearly here things are turning for the worse.  Unable to lift the pitcher and fill his own glass, PJG claimed a pitcher for himself (by vomiting on it, of course).  Right before I took this picture, he claimed he could drink the depth in one single sip. 

Thoroughly lubricated with spirits, PJG proceeded to give Peter his birthday present: a seductive dance.  This is the only picture I can post here - once the splits were finished PJG engaged his bulging biceps and tried to give Peter a happy ending.  Hilarity did not ensue. 

From the dark past

A few weeks ago my friend Justin got married.  I was on call for work, so I behaved myself.  Pocket Jeff Goldblum, on the other hand, decided to take advantage of the open bar.

At first he kept it classy - some Chardonnay with dinner.  Notice how he is lifting his arms, mocking my assertion that he would not be able to lift the glass to his plastic lips.  How wrong I was.

PJG has enough of that frilly finery however, and decided to enjoy the full taste experience of triple hops brewing. 

Clearly at this point his tiny plastic body had reached its limit.  After showing off all night, hanging out with various well wishers and taking some photos in the photo booth, PJG was saturated with alcohol and ready to go home. 

As soon as I have a chance to scan in the picture from the photo booth I will post it here.