Scalia: Needs Sexual Healin'

He's got that feelin':

“The Supreme Court’s recent decisions protecting abortion rights, upholding the legalization of assisted suicide and striking down anti-sodomy laws represent a ‘dangerous’ trend, Justice Antonin Scalia told a Harvard audience last night.”

I know I was pissed when women were given the right to choose. You give them an inch and they take a mile. Next thing you know women will want to be able to vote or they’ll want equal pay for equal work or some other hippy bullshit like that. Come on Scalia, let’s you and me keep them in the kitchen and the bedroom. Right where they belong.

And why should we have assisted suicide? 104 year olds with terminal cancer that are in severe pain every second of the day should just toughen up and stick it out. I mean that can’t have that much longer to go right?

And I say bring back anti-sodomy laws. What two consenting individuals over the age of majority do in their own bedroom on their own time should totally be dictated by the state. I’m waiting for the official “Government Approved Sexual Positions And Acts” to come out so that I know exactly what I can and cannot do in the bedroom. I need my sex to have the official government stamp of approval. The government can hire a “sex inspector” and come into the bedroom every time I have sex. That way, if I slip up and do something too freaky the government can be sure to let me know.

“He asked—rhetorically—how many individuals would have to be involved in a sex act for it to no longer qualify as ‘private.’ ‘Presumably it is some number between five and the number of people required to fill the Coliseum,’ Scalia joked.”

Hahaha. So funny, Scalia. You just keep the zinger’s coming.

“An audience member later rose to ask Scalia 'whether you have any gay friends, and—if not—whether you’d like to be my friend.'”
“I probably do have some gay friends,” Scalia said. “I’ve never pressed the point.”

I bet you’ve got some gay friends that would like to press your point.

“‘I even take the position that sexual orgies eliminate social tensions and ought to be encouraged,’ Scalia said.”

Yeah, I totally agr… Whoa. Hold on a second. Did Scalia just say what I think he just did? Let’s take a look at that one again:

“I even take the position that sexual orgies eliminate social tensions and ought to be encouraged,” Scalia said.

Holy motherfucking hell. Scalia is all up in that freaky deaky group sex shit. I never would have guessed that one. He looks all pompous and shit in that robe but I bet his wife and her best friend and her best friend’s husband and Scalia’s next door neighbor and his neighbor’s cousin and his old elementary school teacher all just love it when the robe comes off and Scalia gets into “orgy mode.”

That’s going to be my new excuse: “No honey, it’s not that I want to sleep with you and your four amazingly attractive friends at the same time, it’s just that I’m trying to help eliminate the tensions that exist in society. Specifically, the tension that I feel in my pants just thinking about that.”

“And while conservative justices have been criticized for effectively deciding the 2000 election themselves, Scalia quipped: ‘Would you rather have the president of the United States decided by the Supreme Court of Florida?’”

New idea. Florida no longer gets to vote in the election. Rather, their electoral college votes will be determined on the basis of a huge, partisan shuffleboard competition.

“In one of the more bizarre moments of the evening, Scalia mentioned—in passing—that he thought the 17th Amendment was ‘a bad idea.’”

Good point. If there's is one thing the citizens of this country have too much of, it is say in the election process. Thank god for Florida which does it’s damndest to exclude as many people as possible.

Election

No, not that presidential election bullshit, but rather the 1L bullshit pointless retarded without purpose elections.

I am not voting because there is no point. Why is there no point? Because nobody has any basis for their votes. I know these people by name only. What the hell am I supposed to decide on? Oh, person X has posters that are on 8 and 1/2 by 11 inch paper. However, person Y has posters that are 6 feet by 4 feet. There is no doubt in my mind that Y would make a better president.

Then there are the people that are passing out candy with their names taped to it. Now this offends me. It's not offensive to think that my vote can be bought, because it can. However, it's offensive to think that my vote can be bought for only a peanut butter cup or a snack size snicker's. I mean come on. Offer me cash. Or a CD. Or head. Get creative. If you want to buy my vote you need to put some effort into it. If you can't even buy my vote effectively why would I have confidence that you are going to be a decent leader? I won't. You lazy ass.

Hey O'Reilly? Suck It!

Jon Stewart was on the O'Reilly factor about two weeks ago. On the show O'Reilly made frequent references to the retardedness of the Daily Show's audience. Such as:

"I mean, you've got stoned slackers watching your dopey show every night, OK, and they can vote."
And:
"Eighty-seven percent are intoxicated when they watch it."
And:
"Puppets [from Crank Yankers] can't vote, but these dopey kids who watch you can."
And:
"Do you think that Kerry does himself any good talking to you? Because I think most of your audience is going to vote for him anyway, aren't they?...The stoned slackers."
And:
"I'm talking 18 to 25 [years old], you know. The people who are on your intellectual level."
And:
STEWART: "He [Kerry] wants to get what any politician does: access to a new constituency. He wants to get..."
O'REILLY: "The stoned slackers."
STEWART: "... that's exactly right, because the stoned slackers, this election is going to rely on the undecided. Who is more undecided than..."
O'REILLY: "Than the stoned slacker, right."

So basically what I'm saying is that O'Reilly is a dick. But that's nothing new here. I'm sure O'Reilly was kidding. Well, kind of joking and mostly serious. Anyway, Comedy Central got kind of irritated because they don't want to lose ad revenue. So guess what they found?

Stewart's 'stoned slackers'? Not quite

"Viewers of Jon Stewart's show are more likely to have completed four years of college than people who watch "The O'Reilly Factor," according to Nielsen Media Research."

Oops. Sorry O'Reilly, but you're a dumbass.

In conclusion, O'Reilly can go suck a cock and fuck a donkey. Good day.



I said good day!

Weird Search

“Masturbate to much drinking smoking.”

Now what I’m wondering here is whether this person meant “to much” or “too much.” I mean, does he want to masturbate to a great deal of drinking and smoking? Does he masturbate too much while drinking and smoking? Or does he masturbate while drinking and smoking too much? I guess we’ll never know. But in my mind, drinking and smoking really turn this guy on.

Ever Bang A Gas Tank?

ES emailed me the link to a wonderful article. I laughed. I cried. I felt happy. I farted (Taco Bell for dinner).

"How to Bang Just About Any Object In Your House or Hints from Heloise's Teenage Son"

Basically the site lists 12 objects found in your house and then rates the pleasure received from, well, banging them.

"If you're visiting this site, you are in desperate need of a woman. And between you and me, it ain't gonna happen. The editors at UncleMelon.com have tested numerous alternatives to a real woman. All, with the exception of one, performed well enough in our tests to satisfy losers like you and me. And to be honest, that wasn't much of a challenge.

Uncle Melon and his staff examined 12 inanimate objects for their potential use as sexual partners. The evaluation included ease and pleasure of use, availability, orgasm efficiency and post-ejac clean-up. Each object has been scored on our standard Map of Hawaii Scale. Five maps means that the object was even better than a real girlfriend. One map means it was worse than my wife."

Now on to the objects (and my commentary on the bangabilty of each):

Number 1: Sock - Use a small crew sock to make your penis look huge. Just don't let your girlfriend's panties see you do this lest they get jealous and leave you for someone else's crotch.

Number 2: Pillow - Definately depends on the type of pillow. A pillow from your own bed? Probably no. From someone else's bed? Hell yes! A pillow crocheted by your grandmother that says "Thinking Of You" on it? Not a fucking chance in hell. That's just nasty.

Number 3: Melon - Melon's are sexy as hell. Just listen to the name: Melon. Doesn't that get you going? It gets me hot and bothered like nothing else. Even better is the Honeydew Melon. Goddamn. That honeydew is such a tease. Just sitting there on the counter staring at me. Screw you honeydew. And I mean that literally.

Number 4: Bath Toy - They say: "It's almost impossible to play with this toy without sticking your dick in it. No lube is necessary and the tri-fold, latex, labia are 33% more satisfying that the human two-lip slit." I say: Damn straight.

Number 5: Electric Pencil Sharpener - Not as bad as you would think. There have definately been times when I would have rather been banging an electric pencil sharpener. But maybe that's just me.

Number 6: Wet Dry/Vac - Perfect. Every man's dream. It sucks and swallows. I had to get my ex drunk to do the first and buy her diamonds to do the second.

Number 7: Party Supplies - Nothing says lovin' latex. Blow up the balloon, draw a face on it, and go to town. Alternatively, hold two together for your own simulated titty-fuck.

Number 8: Bottles and Containers - I prefer something with a wide mouth so it can properly accomodate the beast that is my manhood. Some of you out there should be fine with a peroxide bottle. Or a straw for that matter. But that's your own problem. One caveat: make sure if the bottle has one of those plastic wrings around it's neck (like 20 oz. soda bottles) you remove it. Because if it's left on there when you go to town you'll end up with more cuts and scrapes than I had after I was done banging your mother. And she got me good (damn she's wild).

Number 9: Paper Towel Roll - An oldie but a goodie. The added benefit is that it can still be used as a sword to beat the ever loving shit out of someone when you're finished loving it.

Number 10: Britney Spears - They say: I know you guys are thinking, "Britney's not an inanimate object!" Well then, you obviously haven't slept with her." I say: She's pretty to look at, but she's definately not a woman yet. Come back to me after you get some real implants.

Number 11: Automobile Gas Tank - Do not smoke while banging a gas tank. It's dangerous. That's why I don't smoke while I bang your mother. If she let one loose it would take out the entire city block. Gas tank lovin' works out better if your car is slightly warm and has recently been lubed. Now if only it were that easy to heat up and lube women. I guess if that were the truth, I never would have fucked a guess tank, but whatever.

Number 12: Hand - Definately underrated. The hand is the classic. It knows what you like and it never cares if you call the next day. Me? I never call. I'm lucky if I give my hand five minutes notice that it's getting some action. But after being used six times a day for the past eight and a half years, it kind of got used to it. And every now and then, I switch up and use my left hand while my right one watches. What a perv my right hand is.

I'm Broken

I went to the ENT doctor (he wasn't sick again; that would have really pissed me off). I have a deviated septum and so I'm having septoplasty. Lucky me. I just love surgery. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Can you tell I'm excited? Does it show? Becasue if it does, you're a fucking moron.

Then this morning, I went to the dentist. I thought I was just going in to have my teeth looked at. The dentist, however, decided to jab me with needles. So 4 shots of novocaine and 2 and 1/2 hours later, I've had 20 x-rays taken (I think I've grown a third arm from all the radiation), my teeth cleaned and polished, and then some composite crap put on the three broken teeth so that I look normal for now. It isn't permanent though. Apparently I exposed the nerves in two of my teeth and so I'll have to have root canals before the teeth can be crowned. And the third tooth is cracked all the way up to the gumline, so it has to come out. How lucky am I?

On a side note, if I hear one more person say, "So, I guess you won't be giving piggyback rides anymore" I'm going to shoot them in the face.

I Hate Inanimate Objects

Dear Closed Memo,

I hate you so much. So very very much. If I could find a way to kill you, I would do it a thousand times over. For an assignment that is not graded, you have done nothing but waste my time. In the absence of the ability to kill you, I will settle for damning you to hell for all eternity. Say hi to Micheal Bolton and Kenny G for me.

You are a piece of shit.

Always (and by always I mean screw you),
NDC

P.S. Fuck you.
P.P.S. No, Fuck you.

Boring Crap That Matters To Nobody

Funny Shit:
Some made it here recently searching for "rednecks incest." This is funny enough. What makes it even more funny is that this person is not only from the city where I did my undergrad, but that their ISP identifies them as "State Of [XX]/board Of Regents." So I'm not sure if this person is a student or employee, but it's funny.

Unsettling Shit:
I recently found a blog (the only one I've ever found) from someone at my law school. Who is also a 1L. Who is in my section. Thankfully it seems to be more for his friends and family and as far as I can tell nobody else from my city has visited my blog. However, were he to find this site I'm pretty sure the post about the broken nose would pretty much tell him who I was.

Still More Unsettling Shit:
I also recently found that a professor at my school is a semi-regular contributor to a pretty well known blog. Even worse, this professor is one of the faculty advisors for a group I am a member of. And he'll be one of my professors next semester. Freaky.

Completely Unrelated Random Shit
I blew about $100 yesterday. I finally received my loan checks after finally getting my tuition problem figured out (long story). But just for the hell of it, I bought the following:
This.
This.
This.
This.
This.
and This.
I love buying shit.

Dear NDC...

Larry asked for some guidance on a very relevant issue that frequently comes up.

“NDC: I was wondering both about sex on an inflatable raft and sex with an inflatable raft. Any guidance you can provide on this issue is much appreciated.”

Well Larry, thank god (or allah, or jesus, or satan, or buddha, or that weird guy selling headless chickens on the sidewalk, or that bag lady that keeps yelling about how the spaceship will be here any day now) that I am here to help out. I like to think of myself as providing a public service to everyone so that I may answer the unanswerable questions you may have in life (so to everyone else, send me your questions and I'll answer them in a way that will leave no doubt in your mind that I am the greatest man that has ever lived or will ever live. Goddamn I'm modest). Just make sure your question is clear so that I don't need to ask for clarification.


How To: Sex On/With An Inflatable Raft
by NDC*

As far as sex on an inflatable raft goes, this is a very tricky proposition because there is a definite likelihood of injury and/or death. The likelihood of injury is entirely dependant upon whether said sex in said raft occurs in water (and if so what type of water), or if it occurs on land.

If this sex on a raft occurs on land, the rule is that you are generally safe. But I do mean generally. Things can still go very wrong. This is dependent upon several factors. These include the size of the room you are in, the presence of objects that have the ability to be “knocked over” and subsequently “smack the fuck out of you and/or your partner,” the amount and/or type of lube that is used, your age (sorry old people but your chances of being injured while having sex in an inflatable raft are roughly 3,000% percent higher than everyone else), and position chosen (please note that this is not intended to be an all inclusive list of all the factors that are involved, but simply a sampling of some of the things that may affect the outcome).

Now sex on an inflatable raft that is in water is a much more risky proposition. Here the results are mostly dependent upon what type of water the raft is placed in. If your raft is placed in a bathtub full of water then there is a very high probability that you will be fine (there is also a very high probability that you are a fucking loser too, but that’s neither here nor there). If the raft is placed in a swimming pool you will likely avoid injury here as well. This is dependent upon the size and depth (“Hee hee, he said size and depth.” I know. Stop being such a perv Soup) of your pool. If your pool is too small and too shallow (goddamnit Soup, quit giggling) then if you end up falling out of the raft (and it can happen, I promise) your chances of hitting the edge of the pool or the bottom of the pool are very high. The general rule is that the raft should be in at least six feet of water and should at least ten feet away from all edges in order to achieve the maximum possibility of safeness. Now if you place the raft in a river, then you are a dumbass and will likely die. This is because you will be too busy having sex and thus won’t be able to steer the raft and thus will likely crash into rocks, be thrown from the raft, hit some more rocks, pass out, and then drown. This is not recommended.

Sex with and inflatable raft is an entirely different story and analysis of such cannot be approached from the same angle. Here the issue is not the safeness of the activity, but rather setting the mood so that you and your raft are at your most romantic mood. I completely discourage the use of any type of open flame in this scenario. After all, nothing ruins a potentially awesome night like burning a hole in your partner. No candles are allowed here. It is also best to keep the temperature cool so that your raft doesn’t get all hot and start sticking to itself. Music choice is also essential. The only rule here is to stay away from music about transportation of any kind because this will only serve to remind the raft that it is only a raft and not an airplane or a car and will thus only depress. So no “Leaving On A Jet Plane” but I will suggest “Rolling Down The River.” Protection is usually a really big issue, but here it is reduced to a nonissue. This is because the raft is made of rubber. So you’re already covered.

I hope this helps out everyone that is considering having sex on a raft or with a raft.

*NDC is a regular contributor to Penthouse Forum

And? Your Point Is?

The Rorschach test

You probably type with your penis. And don't say you haven't got a penis. Someone like you must have one somewhere. You're not very kind, are you? This makes for a worrying combination...

Free Ride? But I Just Paid

I had an appointment this afternoon to see the ear, nose, and throat doctor. I walk in the door about 30 minutes before my appointment and go to check in. Guess what? The doctor wasn't there. Why not? He went home sick. Should I be scared? Cause I am. So I had to reschedule for Monday. Whatever.

Recent Searches

inflatable raft sex - Now, were you wondering about having sex on an inflatable raft, or with an inflatable raft? Just wondering.

photo of international naked ladies - I'm glad to see you're branching out and not looking only for pictures of naked American ladies. I support diversity.

gap commercial singer sarah jessica - The singer is Lenny Kravitz, and the song is "Lady" from his recent album "Baptism." Just trying to be helpful. You're welcome.

The Street Kicked My Fucking Ass

Here are the aforementioned details:

It's Friday night, around 11:00. Time to walk to the bar. So we're leaving my friend's house. About three or four people walk ahead and I wait for my friend to finish locking up her house. I then decide that it would be a really great idea to give her a piggy back ride. And then run down the sidewalk. Very fast.

I'm not exactly sure what happened because I passed out right before I hit. But I remember running and realizing that I was about to fall down. Next thing I know I here people yelling and trying to drag me out of the street. Apparently when I fell I didn't just land on the sidewalk, but went sideways so that I fell the extra six inches and hit the street. Face first. (Just to be absolutely clear, it hurt like a motherfucker).

So somebody helps drag me back to the porch of my friend's house where I proceed to bleed profusely from my nose, mouth and face and where I realize that I have broken three of my teeth.

Total damage done: One broken nose; Three broken teeth; One mild concussion; One busted up/swollen/cut lip; Two scrapes on my forehead; One cut/scraped/fucked up hand

The most pitiful thing ever? I received four shot of lydocaine in my gums and so my face was pretty much completely numb. In addition to this, the middle of my top lip had swelled up to approximately the size of a large grapefruit. So I get back to my friend's house, very doped up, and attempt to smoke a cigarette. It was hard enough to find a place in my mouth where I could hold the goddamn thing and inhale, but after it was lit, it took me about 10 seconds each time to find my mouth. Not fun at all.

So I am on heavy narcotics. They help with the pain, but just make me want to go to sleep, which is a problem during class. I'm usually fine for the first half hour, but somewhere after that I can't stay awake. Luckily I have some very understanding professors whom I have even more respect for now than I did before. I emailed them all and told them what happened and asked if they could not call on me for about a week because it hurts to talk and I can't stay awake long enough to read. They have all been nothing but nice and sympathetic. So even though they will probably never read this, thank you professors. You have made this a much easier time to go through.

Now I just have to go to an ear, nose, and throat doctor to see what they'll have to do to fix my nose (I hope I don't need surgery again) and then to a dentist to see about fixing my teeth. I'm just glad I'm still under my parent's insurance.

What's the moral of this story? Only let people on your back if you are a woman and you are in the bedroom.

Shit

Check this bullshit out.

I'm in the hospital and can't vote, and that's when the fucking tie happens.

And the wrong bitch won here.

And somehow redneck whore became sexy enough to win.

Goddamn you life.

My Dreams Have Come True

For so long I have been wishing that I could spend a Friday night in the emergency room. Thankfully, my wish was granted. I am alive and well. I'm alive and I'll be well eventually. Details later.

What really pisses me off is that I missed the chance to make my joke here. And since I was out of comission Saturday I didn't get in Friday's catfight matches. Such is life. Well I'm going to go take more drugs now and then stumble around in a narcotic haze. You guys have fun.

Pig Fucker

That's right.

Pig Fucker.

I'm Rick James Drug Dealer Bitch!

Jesus Christ.

Coroner: 9 drugs found in Rick James' system

No word yet on whether "Funk" was one of them.
Updates as they become available.

I Woke Up For Nothing(But Not Because My Life Sucks;That's A Whole New Post)

Dear School,

As much as I love waking up at 6:00 in the morning because I have work to do, it really pisses me off when you wait until 6:00 in the morning to fucking cancel class becuase of "existing conditions Friday morning and out of concern for the safety of our students and employees." It was raining about 90% harder last night around midnight than it is now. You couldn't cancel class then so that I could have slept in? No. Of course not. Instead my sorry ass is awake. Fuck you school. Fuck you 100 percent.

I mean, Fuck.

So school, I would just like to say to you,

Always,
NDC


Pointless observation:
If you are watching a Spanish soap opera and have no idea what the hell anyone is saying you can't tell if the people in the scene are angry or about to have the best sex of their lives. Crazy shit.

A Day In The Life Of A Law Student

6:45: Alarm goes off. Jump up and hit snooze.
6:52: Alarm goes off again. Nudge the two strippers next to me that I brought home from the club last night until one of them gets up and hits snooze.
6:59: Wake up strippers and tell them “I had a wonderful time last night” and “of course I’ll call you.” Try to keep a straight face.
7:02: Morning slam.
7:06: Get into shower.
7:07: Get rid of morning woody in the only way that works.
7:19: Get out of shower.
7:20: Meditate and try to center my Chi.
7:21: Give up.
7:22: Find my orange and yellow swirled polyester leisure suit, white disco boots, and numerous gold items of bling.
7:25: Get dressed and search for my afropick.
7:30: Try to center my Chi once more
7:32: Give up; grab my bookbag, and a beer for the road.
7:33: Get in car, light cigarette, and open beer.
7:35: See cop ahead; chug beer and toss bottle out window.
7:36: Pass cop; grab another beer from the cooler in the back.
7:45: Arrive at parking deck. Finish beer, get out of car, grab Jack and Coke (in a spill proof container), light another cigarette and head to the library
7:47: Hide behind a tree as I notice someone I slept with but never called back. Wish she wasn’t the dean of the law school so that my life would be easier.
7:50: Sit down in the library. Take out books and computer. Turn on computer. Sip drink while waiting for computer.
7:52: Computer is on. Open book to case that needs briefing. Open new Word document.
7:53: Head outside for a smoke break to celebrate my accomplishments thus far.
8:00: Light another cigarette.
8:03: Talk to smokin’ hot 2L on the bench next to me.
8:05: Make lunch date with super sexy 2L and her surprisingly attractive female friend.
8:08: Head back to the library.
8:09: Check email; send replies to my adoring public. Read news, read blawgs, check my blawg, check to see if the hurricane is going to drown the entire southeast, or just the losers on the coast.
8:40: Bathroom break.
8:55: Back to chair. Swear to myself that I’ll never eat Mexican food after 9:30 at night ever again.
8:56: Check email once more. Shut down computer, pack up stuff, and head to my locker to get the book for my first class.
9:00: Sit down on the bench outside the door. Smoke a cigarette and converse with the hundreds of friends I have.
9:15: Head to class.
9:30: Class starts.
9:32: Play hearts.
9:36: Play spider solitaire.
9:42: Check email; sign on to AIM.
9:44: Block buddy on AIM that I had cyber sex with but never IM’d again.
9:47: Read blawgs again to see who has updated.
9:55: Check email again.
10:00: Check out porn sites to see if there are any new videos that I haven’t seen yet.
10:04: Nothing new. I’ve seen all the porn on the internet.
10:06: The professor calls on me. I don’t answer and pretend I’m not there.
10:10: See if Soup posted the next round of JB: Catfight.
10:11: Dream about how much I would love to see Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera in a catfight.
10:20: Class ends. I head outside to the bench to smoke a cigarette.
10:35: Head to my locker. Get the book for my next class and refill my Jack and Coke.
10:40: Light another cigarette and try to decide whose place we are going to get drunk at this weekend.
10:41: Remember something embarrassing I did last weekend. Apologize to girl and swear that “I’ve never tried that before” and “It was only because I was drunk” and “Yes, I think it’s disgusting too.”
10:50: Go to bathroom and smoke a bowl to get my mind in learning mode.
10:55: Refill my Jack and Coke at my locker.
11:00: Sit on bench, drink my drink, and smoke my cigarettes.
11:15: Head to class.
11:30: Class starts; check my email and the news. Read some more blawgs.
11:47: I get called on again. Feign sickness and tell professor that I’m losing my voice and can’t speak right now. Promise that I’m really prepared, but just sick.
11:49: Now that I’m safe, slouch down in my chair, hide behind computer screen and nap.
12:25: Classmate wakes me up and tells me class ended 5 minutes ago. I tell her that I would like to thank her by taking her out to dinner tonight.
12:35: Meet up outside library with drop dead sexy 2L’s for our lunch date.
12:40: Convince them to come with me back to my place because “I need to pick something up really quick.”
12:42: Grab their asses on the way to the car and whisper in their ears that this will be the best meal they ever had.
12:45: Grab beer from cooler, leave parking deck, and begin drive.
12:48: Road head.
12:55: Arrive at my apartment with dead sexy women in tow.
12:56: Walk in apartment. Offer drinks to the lovely ladies.
12:59: Everybody is naked and in the shower.
1:55: Everybody cleans up and gets dressed. I do two shots of Jaeger on my way out the door.
2:00: Drive back to school.
2:02: Beautiful goddesses start making out in the back.
2:11: Back at school; head to my locker and refill my drink, and switch my computer for decoy.
2:15: Head back to class
2:25: Go to professor’s office with decoy computer and explain that something has gone horribly wrong with my computer. Tell him, “I have backup copies at home, but I don’t have copies of my notes and briefs for today’s class with me. Could you please not call on me today?”
2:30: Class begins. Get out legal pad because I am sans computer.
2:33: Handwrite a letter to my “girlfriend” telling her that it is tough working for the Peace Corps in Afghanistan but that I love it so much I’m not sure when I’m coming home. Besides, “The people here really need my help, and it would wrong if I denied them something that I can so easily provide.”
2:50: Handwrite a letter to my “wife” telling her, “Prison life is tough and the warden is out to get me. I don’t think I’ll ever make parole. You better wait for me bitch, or else you’ll be in a world of hurt.”
3:00: Handwrite a letter to Penthouse Forum about my “lunch” with the Amazon beauties.
3:20: Class finally ends. Head to locker, dump books, refill drink, and meet up with my dinner date.
3:40: Ask date if she’d like to grab a drink or four before dinner. She accepts and we head to the bar.
3:50: I enter bar, while date waits outside, and look around. I spot an ex-lover. Tell date, “This place refuses to hire Arabs. Let’s go someplace else.”
4:00: Find a bar free of ex-lovers.
4:02: Small talk begins. I try to repress a yawn.
4:05: I tell her about the time I saved a drowning child in the ocean. And the child was disabled. And it was during a hurricane.
4:35: Two drinks later she goes to the restroom.
4:40: She returns, hands me the thong she was wearing and asks if I want to go to her place.
4:45: We play a game of grab ass on the way to the car.
4:55: I grab two beers out of the cooler and proceed to drive to her place.
4:57: Road head.
5:15: Make it to her place. She offers me a drink. I accept.
5:19: Tells me she needs to go “freshen up.”
5:25: She returns wearing nothing but black 4 inch stilettos.
5:26: Bedroom.
5:42: Bedroom floor.
5:51: Bathroom countertop.
5:56: Against the bathroom wall.
6:07: She asks if I want to try something kinky. I tell her, “I’m not sure. I’ve never really done anything kinky.” She tells me what she wants to do. I tell her, “I’ve never tried that before,” and “I’ve never even seen pictures of that,” and “I always thought it was disgusting, but if you really want to try it, I’ll do it. But only for you.”
6:28: Clean up and head home.
6:47: Arrive home and grab a beer from the fridge.
6:50: Check email and blawg, maybe write a post. Maybe not.
7:12: Check for new porn. Still none.
7:15: Turn on TV and nap.
9:30: Order pizza. Hope the delivery person is female and desperate to make money.
9:55: Pimply faced 16 year old boy shows up. I pay for pizza and don’t tip.
10:00: Beer and pizza time.
10:50: Open school books to see how much I have to read for tomorrow.
10:55: Email all my professors informing them that I will be absent for the next week due to a death in the family.
11:00: Drink beer and watch “The Daily Show.”
11:30: Put on my pink nightgown, climb into bed, and pass out.

Visitor ISP's That Scare Me

Third Circuit Court of Appeals
U.S. Senate Sergeant At Arms
Microsoft Corp
Supreme Court of Virginia

I've Been Discovered

That's right. Dylan has found a picture of me.

My life will never be the same.

How To Succeed In Law School

Develop a personal relationship will all of your professors
And I do mean personal. This will be an easier step if your professors are all hot 30 something female ex-porn stars with tight asses and huge racks. However, if your professors, like mine, are generally between the ages of 95-death, and also men, this will prove a difficult step. I encourage you to bite the bullet and do what needs to be done. Nothing makes class less stressful than rolling over in the morning next to Prof. Property and saying, “Baby, I didn’t read last night because I was too busy sucking like a Hoover and taking it like a prison bitch. Please don’t call on me today.”

If you put alcohol in a spill proof container you can take it to class
This is a tip I wish I had a month ago when orientation started. I know that if I had a thermos full of Jack Daniels, it would be a lot easier for me to make it through the day. Sometimes the only thing that keeps me going is knowing I can run home at 3:30 and grab a beer. You will be much more motivated to do actual work if you already your alcohol handy throughout the entire day. Also, nothing impresses a professor more than telling him or her, “I think there is plenty consideration present to support the contract that you shut the fuck up. Bargain with this, bitch.”

Try to sleep with at least one of your classmates
This may not help out your grades any, but it makes you feel like you're a fucking Superman (or Superwoman; I'm not trying to be sexist here).

Purchase a quality laptop
This is extremely important. What else are you going to do in class when the professor is off on some tangent that has no relevance at all? It’s really hard to play spider solitaire on a fucking legal pad. Laptops also come in handy during class for things like staying current with the news, checking your email, gambling in online casinos, checking on the shipping status of your Russian mail order bride, finding the nearest sperm bank for you to make a donation, and finding reading material to take with you to the sperm bank. And the people behind you in class really appreciate it when you look at pictures from www.blackmidgetwomeninthreesomeswithbarnyardanimals.com.

There is no need to ever carry your backpack
Now, you may be thinking that I’m talking about rolling backpacks. I’m not. Law school is not an airport (although if they had moving sidewalks and escalators, I would so rent a pilot’s uniform and bring a suitcase to school). My backpack is not of the rolling persuasion. So how do I never carry it? Simple. Mexicans. There is plenty of cheap Mexican labor. I found Pedro on the side of the road holding a sign that said, “Homeless and hungry.” So I did the only logical thing: I offered him a six-pack of Corona a week (and a spill proof container) if he would follow me to my classes and carry my backpack for me. It has worked out very well. My back isn’t sore at all, and the lawn has never been in better shape.

Don’t take any advice from anyone
Seriously. Especially don’t take advice from someone that uses a pseudonym with the word “Naked” in it because chances are good that he is one very fucked up individual with nothing good to offer anyone. But remember that none of us have any idea what the fuck we are talking about. What works for you, may not work for me. And what works for me, may not work for the 16 year old Asian girl that I pay $5 a week plus all the rice she can eat to go to class, take notes, read, and brief cases for me. I, for one, like to study in the library. Wong Tau (my Asian love slave), on the other hand, likes to do her work in seedy motel rooms between meeting clients from her second job. I’m not quite sure what that other job is, but damn she stays out late some nights. I don’t know how she does it. I should give her some vacation days or something. She is planning a honeymoon with her new husband (Pedro; I really hired him to carry her books. She’s so tiny). Maybe I’ll just hold off on anal for a while.

I Guess People In England Don't Suck

Somehow I ended being the 19th hit on google for "Olson Twin Catfight."

To the guy (I'm assuming it's a guy, if you're a girl, you really fucking rule) that searched for this one:

You are awesome. If you ever come on over here from England, I'll buy you a drink and we'll talk about how great it would be to get the Olson twins to fight.
Or wrestle.
In Jello.
While making out.
Naked.

I’m A Thief

Scoplaw had a great idea. He says,

“I was discussing the whole blawging experience with a friend today, specifically how my “real” or social persona interacts with the blawg persona (such as it is), and how those two reflect, or fail to reflect, who I am…I’m inspired to, in an effort to promote or discourage misconceptions of myself, share are some random things about the real me not thusfar mentioned on the blog…”

So I read this and immediately thought to myself, “Hey Self, that’s a really interesting idea. It’s too bad you didn’t think of that.” To which I responded, “Why the fuck are you always putting me down? I mean, Goddamn!” Self than decided to get uppity: “Well, NDC, it’s not my fault that you’re a fucking moron that never has any original ideas worth sharing with anybody. That’s probably the reason you’re alone in life and why your parents are disappointed in you.” That one hurt a little. “Low blow Self. Low blow.” Self than told me, in not uncertain terms, to “jump off a fucking bridge” and then “shoot [my]self in the face” and finally that I’m “probably gay and afraid of [my] own sexuality.”

Self had won this round. But the battle was not over. I came up with the idea to blatantly steal the idea.
That’s right. No apprehension, no front that the idea was mine. It was Scoplaw’s, and I’m a thief with no morals (sorry Scoplaw. I blame it all on Self; he’s an asshole).

So here, “in an effort to promote or discourage misconceptions of myself,” are random, most likely boring, and completely useless pieces of information about me that you don’t know yet. I call it…Behind The Blog: Mr. Coffee (again, my apologies to Scoplaw).

Behind The Blawg: Mr. Coffee

I once broke the window of a backhoe at a construction site across the street from my house. The police came to my door, talked to my mother, and then left. I hope the statute of limitations has run.

I have never done any illegal drugs.

I once took 16 No-Doz at one time.

I am drunk a minimum of two days each week

During the summer, this number was much higher

I smoke about a pack of cigarettes (camel filters) every day

When I drink, this doubles

I broke my nose. In kindergarten. On another kid’s forehead. While playing tag. He went to the nurses office and I was sent back to class

I have never been in a fight

I spent the first year of my life living in a trailer park in Minnesota while my father was a furniture repairman

I have lived in 6 different states

My first kiss happened when I was 14.

I lost my virginity when I was 15

My ex-fiance is a huge huge huge crazy fucked up bitch. (Ok, this one has been mentioned before, but it can’t possibly be stressed enough

I haven't had a threesome. Yet.

I once received head in a classroom after high school.

I have hairy legs, arms, face, and ass, yet my back has only 5 or 6 random hairs

I believe that The Blair Witch Project is the most overrated movie of all time

I can’t stand onions and tomatoes

I used to be a kleptomaniac

The only rap song I ever liked was Gangsta’s Paradise

I’ve had a total of three girlfriends; one for two weeks, one for a month, and one for six years

When I’m drunk I lose control over the volume of my voice, I lose the ability to think before I speak, and I completely lose my inner monologue.

One time I killed a hooker. And it will probably happen again.


Ok. The last one was a lie. For now.


UPDATE:
A couple more tidbits of information for you:

I almost drowned in the wave pool of a water park.

Cut or uncut? Sorry, not answering this one. You’ll have to find out on your own.

I chose my undergrad university because of its close proximity to where the Bitch lived.

While I enjoyed undergrad a lot and it was a pretty good school, I still regret not even thinking about going somewhere else

My SAT score was I’m not telling you so fuck off.

I once got sick from eating sand soup. Using water from a sump pump. I vomited profusely. I was 4.

I almost got hit by a car as a child because I was sledding down a hill whose bottom was about 4 feet from the road.

My penis is the Walrus, goo goo ka choo.

The word tidbits makes me giggle.

Turn Me Into Porn!!

Via SMP comes the pornolizer which lets you pronolize any website. Much fun will be had by all.

My favorite is that it turned this line:

I'm a cancer, I like walks on the beach, long talks, and holding hands while staring longingly into your eyes.

Into this:

I'm a cancer, I like smoochs on the beach, long talks, and titty fucking plows while browning longingly into your eyes.

How well the pornolizer knows me.

Goddamnit People

I still have 6 fucking Gmail invitations left. Somebody take them off my fucking hands. I'm sick of seeing that bullshit "invite a friend to Gmail" line at the top of the screen.

Side note: Does Gmail make anybody else think of G spot? No? Um. Yeah. Me neither. Cause that would be perverted and shit. And I'm not like that.

Are You There God? It's Me, Naked

The Victoria's Secret catalog came yesterday. This makes me rethink the whole atheism thing and makes me wonder if there really is a god. I mean, how great is it that pictures of hot women (even hotter than these babes) clad in lingerie just show up in your mailbox?? It's like Christmas, but with much cooler presents. Now I'm going to go read. In the bathroom.

I Think I Vomited In My Mouth

Somebody explain this search to me:

"movie inbreeding incest georgia redneck"

First of all, why not just inbreeding incest? Or just incest? Does regular Georgia incest just not get you going? Do they have to be rednecks? Is it the beer belly and buck teeth that really turn you on? Are Alabama rednecks just too classy for you? And is the qualifier "redneck" really needed? I'm pretty sure that if you're in Georgia and you filmed your own "inbreeding incest" movie than the chances that you're a redneck are somewhere around %8,000. But that's just me.

And if that one wasn't weird enough for you:

"my first masturbation pubic hair"

Dude. Get a life. Really. There is nothing here about the first time I masturbated. Because nobody wants to hear about that. Except you. And you don't count.

So please excuse me while I go vomit once more.

Consider Yourself Warned

Wayne has hereby told everyone to stay away from my site for their own sake. I couldn't agree with you more Wayne. I still haven't figured out why anyone ever comes back. Oh well. You have your warning. I'm just going to tell you now, there's no place to go from here but down.


To whoever got here by this search:

If you found what you were looking for let me know.

Mr. Coffee

Just Because: Antithesis Edition

Just Because: A four for Monday.


Goddamn. Now that's some sexy shit.

About Goddamn Time

I finally have internet access in my apartment. Now I can procrastinate in the manner to which I've grown accustomed.

I still have 6 Gmail invites. Somebody take them off of my hands or else I'm going to end up with 8 gmail addresses.

Irony Beats The Fuck Out Of Man

"Monroe County Coroner David Toumey was hospitalized with a leg wound after accidentally shooting himself while trying to demonstrate gun safety."

This world would be so much more boring without stupid people. Thank you stupid people, for giving me something to live for.

On that note, I'm going to go and get drunk for the third time in three days. To use Larry's words, "I need to go get my drink on."

Just Because: Antithesis Edition

Volume Two Hits Newsstands!!

Just Because: Antithesis Edition

In the veing of Soup's Just Because and ES's Just Because: The Franchise, I bring you:

Just Because: Antithesis Edition

John, I Am Your Father!

Is it just me, or does Zell Miller look like the Emperor from Star Wars?

Did anyone catch the Hardball interview with Zell? That is one crazy fucker:

"MILLER: Get out of my face.
MILLER: If you are going to ask me a question, step back and let me answer.
(LAUGHTER)
MATTHEWS: Senator, please.
MILLER: You know, I wish we...
MILLER: I wish we lived in the day where you could challenge a person to a duel.
MILLER: Now, that would be pretty good.
Don‘t ask me—don‘t pull that...
(CROSSTALK)
MATTHEWS: Can you can come over? I need you, Senator. Please come over."

That is one crazy son of a bitch.

Freak

I never would have thought I would be the 25th result on webcrawler for this search (probably want to stay away from this one at work; especially if your employer can see what you're searching for).

I am much more in line with this search. Because isn't that what we're all looking for? (don't click that one at work either...)

I still have 5 Gmail invites left to give. Go here to see how to get yours.

Also, just that nobody thinks I'm an asshole. Well, so that nobody thinks I'm a bigger asshole than they already do, I've seen a lot of new blogs and some older blogs linking to me, and I appreciate that completely. Unfortunately, I haven't had the time to sit down and update the good ol' link section becuase I don't have that much time to fuck around with it at school, and the software package from the internet company hasn't arrived yet. So whenever I finally get around to it I'll hook everyone up with links.

UPDATE: I still have 4 Gmail invites left. Come on people. Get on the ball.

Clerical Shit

Ok, couple things.

Email
Because I never want to delete email again:
New email address: nakeddrinkingcoffee -at- gmail.com
Or click the link to the right that says "Write to me. I'm all alone.

Feeds
For you lazy fuckers using aggregators, I hope this gives you an orgasm:
New RSS 2.0 Feed
New Atom Feed

Gmail
I have 6 Gmail invites to give away. But you can't just email me/leave a comment saying, "Hey Mr. Coffee, I want one!" Cause we don't all get what we want do we? If we all got what we wanted I'd be the meat in a love sandwich with these two. But I'm not.

So if you want a Gmail invite, email me something original (don't think that sending me links to some story will cut it; it won't). Make me laugh. Make me cry. Make me horny. I don't care. Write some utter bullshit nonsense, or send me naked pictures (note: does not apply to men.); just fucking entertain me. So if you entertain me I'll send you an invite.

Or you could sleep with me. That would work too.

Two Letters

Dear Law Student,

Your makeup makes you look like a French whore on a rainy day. Just thought I'd let you know.

Sincerely,
Mr. Coffee

Dear Other Law Student,

You look like David Crosby on a bad day. And that's really bad. Please see French whore girl for makeup tips.

Always,
Mr. Coffee