Thursday, November 26, 2009

Happy Turducken Day!

Hope you fools had a food-stuffed day of American gluttony and Imperialism!

Turduckens: Genetically engineered Super Soldiers, protecting America from hunger for the last 15 years.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

What Might Have Been

As the president and legal guardian of this illustrious, irreverent band of misfits, ne'er-do-wells and criminal cases, I am often caught up in the bureaucracy of things, rather than the comedy of it all. Long hours are spent doing things you chuckleteers might find tedious (and let's be honest, utterly unfathomable) such as:
1. Making lists of all the things you haven't done for me lately...
2. Designing our fair publication
3. Sending emails about things to people to request said things so that other people (namely myself) may turn those things into the ultimate thing - the aforementioned fair publication.
4. Desperately trying to remember all of your names

I do, however, find the time in my busy schedule of KiCkAsSeRy!!?! and logistics to create humor of an unparalleled quality so that others might know my might and worship it. When given an assignment for the best Freakin' Beakin this college will have ever seen, one cannot take it lightly - visual jokes must be made with careful thought, ruthless aplomb and a fierce dedication to the core of humor reflected in the article it accompanies.

Needless to say, the following photo features none of those things.

But I still think it's pretty fucking funny.


Saturday, November 14, 2009

Monday, November 2, 2009

James Bond is Sad

Shooting Draft 4


JAMES BOND awakens, still woozy from the knock out drops and looks around. He does not recognize the room around him, a posh well decorated living room set. James jumps on guard. It almost looks too normal; except for the P.A. system coming out of the wall.

Goddamit Goldfinger. I don't have time for this.

Ah, but I think you do Mr. Bond. You've taken a royal poop all over my plans for a good long time now, and I say now its my turn to play with you. Look under the chair Mr. Bond.

James Bond nervously looks around the room.

I say you best do it Mr. Bond, one wrong move and the entire room may simply self destruct. Now be a good old boy and look under the chair.

James Bond looks under the chair and removes a cake.

Ahahahaha. Very good.

Its a cake. What's your game Goldfinger?!

I will tell you when you eat the cake Mr. Bond.

I would never.

Eat the cake.


Eat the cake Mr. Bond! EAT IT!

Stop shouting! It gets us nowhere and makes me stressed!

Eat the cake or both the room and Britain get blown sky high!

James Bond takes a little bite out of the cake.

Now eat the cake. Good. Good. Eat the whole thing.

James Bond is sloppily eating it with his hands.

Oh yes! Oh God yes!

Are you pleasuring yourself?

Eat the cake dammit! Ohhhh, oh yes!

James finishes eating the cake.

Now how did that feel!?

Well, I feel pretty shitty. Like a fat piece of shit. I feel like a fat piece of shit, Goldfinger.

Lie down Mr. Bond and turn on the TV.

Bond sighs to himself and lies down on the couch.

I don't know what your game is...

I'll do it for you!

A series of irritating static noises occur. These noises make Bond grow quietly sadder and whine to himself a little. The TV turns to THE BEVERLY HILLBILLIES.

Fine. Whatever. Grumpf. I'm such a fat fucking piece of shit anyway who gives a fuck.

I have the plans Mr. Bond. Would you like to get them back?

Yeah. I guess I should. Whatever.

James Bond doesn't leave the couch. He sighs dejectedly and continues to watch TV.

All those girls I slept with. Do you think any of them loved me?

Long pause. The sound of the Hillbillies plays in the silence. A shitty joke is followed by empty laugh track laughter.

Yeah. You know, I guess not. Sigh.


I guess I could masturbate. Whatever.

Beat. James Bond falls asleep.

Good, Mr. Bond, Good. I have given you depression!

Goldfinger cackles viciously as James Bond falls into a deeper sleep.


Sunday, November 1, 2009

McSweeney's Rejected This Piece For A Reason

Hello Guys (Girls),

I wrote this fake (ie: faux) letter a few weeks ago and thought it would be a great idea to submit it to McSwenney's Internet Tendency for some reason. Luckily, they didn't publish it, which is good for them and everyone that supports Dave Eggers (ie: everyone). However, because I have such contempt for Hyena and all that is stands for, I'm going to post it on this blog. I expect my blogging rights to be swiftly revoked within the next few hours, so I will spend what little time I have left on the Internet watching porn and funny cat videos.

Dear NBC,

Hello the National Broadcasting Company, my name is Kevin Cuggar. You're probably wondering to yourself, "Hey, who is this Kevin Cuggar? He can't possibly be NBC's next David Hyde Pierce!" Well, I've got news for you. I AM your next David Hyde Pierce (but I'm willing to settle for Michael Gross)! Now you're probably wondering to yourself, "Okay, so maybe this Kevin Cuggar is the next David Hyde Pierce (or Michael Gross). But that doesn't mean he's got an awesome idea for a sitcom that will totally revolutionize the network and save us from ratings hell, right?" Well, wrong again asshole! I DO have an awesome idea for a sitcom that'll save your shitty network (I know we just met, but have some faith in me)! But before I pitch the show that'll save NBC, I'd like to tell you a bit about myself.

I am 41 years old and currently employed at a Best Buy located in Southington, CT. I have worked there for over ten years, and consider myself an expert on what shows appeal to the American public. I know what DVD's sell and which ones don't (Hint: Not everybody seems to love Raymond). Now I know what you're thinking, "Gee, what's a brilliant media critic like Kevin Cuggar doing stuck in a dead-end job like that?" But working at Best Buy isn't so bad. Sure, my co-workers are constantly ignoring my requests to combine the Chevy Chase movies with the Dan Aykroyd movies to make a Chevy Chase/Dan Aykroyd hybrid section, but other than that, it can be quite pleasant at times. Anyway, enough about myself, let's talk about the show that will save your network!

My working title for the show is called "Cuggar Town" (this is nothing like ABC's "Cougar Town" starring Courtney Cox because I came up with this idea years ago). It stars an up-and-coming go-getter named Kevin Cuggar (played by the real Kevin Cuggar), who lives in Northington, CT and works at Great Purchase, the country's largest consumer electronics retailer. He is the manager at Great Purchase, and all of his co-workers respect him and his decisions, like the time he combined the Chevy Chase movies with the Dan Aykroyd movies to make an awesome Chevy Chase/Dan Aykroyd hybrid section. They also don't mind that he used one of the store's Macbook's that one time to look at Internet porn. Kevin Cuggar also has a love interest, which will be played by Courtney Cox once ABC's inferior "Cougar Town" gets cancelled. I plan on starring, writing, producing, and directing everyone of "Cuggar Town"'s 250 episodes. Please contact Jerry Bruckheimer as soon as possible because I would like him to executive produce the show.

I have also come up with numerous taglines that will be used to promote the show, such as, "Look what the Cuggar dragged in!" and "This Cuggar's got claws!" So far, I have written 47 scripts for "Cuggar Town" and I plan on mailing at least 23 of them to your New York offices. I will also send you a VHS copy of the "Cuggar Town" pilot. Please do not judge the show based on the pilot alone, as it is only five minutes long and the majority of the footage is of me lounging in the bathtub. Thank you for considering my offer, and I look forward to hearing from you very soon.

- Kevin Cuggar

P.S.: I'll be coming up to your New York offices to personally give you what will be the 24 remaining "Cuggar Town" scripts next week. You can treat me to lunch while I'm up there (I'm partial to P.F. Chang's, but I'll settle for Friendly's). See you soon!