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The Best of Draw Something (Dirty): Part 1

Draw Something is a the latest mobile app to take the world by storm.  And for good reason: it lets you interact with your friends and Facebook stalkers (or stalkees) by playing a simple version of Pictionary with them.
The game levels the playing field between artists and whatever-the-opposite-of-artists-is quite effectively due to the fact that no one can draw worth a shit on a small touchscreen.
You’ve seen what we have done in the past with a children’s colouring book, so guess what happened when we got our filthy little hands on this baby!
I hope you’re ready for some more drawings of dicks!

Draw Something?  Yeah sure. 
If by “Something” you mean pics
of crudely drawn dicks.
—NPX/RLLD

St. Patrick’s Day: The Drunk O’ The Irish

Today is  St. Patrick’s Day.  And using the helpful information we learned last year, The Space Boner invites you all to join us in making some great memories and then destroying them with alcohol.

Dignity?! If that ain’t a brand of Whiskey I don’t wannany

Here is your (liver’s) itinerary:

SATURDAY

07:55: Wake up.  Try and figure out where you are.  The closet?

08:00: Time for the typical morning pee as the body tries to cleanse Friday night’s warm up session.  Maybe a coffee since you’re up?

08:02: Fuck it.  Your brain can’t hurt you when you’re sleeping.  Pray you don’t have your usual dream of TLC’s hit “waterfalls”.

11:43: Wake up in a panic and scramble for the bathroom clutching your dong with enough force to crush an apple.  The only thing keeping your Friday night from coating your hallway in fresh, hot, piss is your blistering forward momentum.

11:44: You body check the bathroom door causing it to explode into saw dust like a team of Navy Seals breaching Osama’s bed room door.  You barely make it with enough time to tear off the shower curtain in your roommates en-suite.  He’ll be so grateful you didn’t get any on the floor.

11:47: Still peeing.  Pretty sure you’ve broken a world record at this point.  Too bad the only witness is your screaming roommate watching you pee in his shower from his toilet.  “This experience has only brought us closer!”  Isn’t proving to be any consolation to him whatsoever.

11:48: Well great, now you’re out of breath and still drunk.  Could this day get ANY worse?  Best go get some grub before Hang-o-saurus Rex shows up…

12:15: Can’t decide what to eat so you drive to Burger King, McDonald’s, Subway, Mr. Sub, Panda Hut, and Wendy’s and buy something awful from each place before realizing you really just want a donair.

The Ultimate Hangover Cure

12:17: Go home and order pizza.

13:01: Maybe a little hair of the dog will make you feel better.  This is before you realize that “the dog that bit you” was a mixture of Tequila, Grapefruit Juice, Melon Liqueur and Red Bull; garnished with a slice of watermelon.  It is known as “The-Drink-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named.

13:05: Maybe some actual hair of the dog will help.  Too bad you found a bigger dog, this time with rabies… literally.  Sure there’s a lot of blood and you probably could use a few stitches and maybe a shot, but you’re pretty sure you won the fight.  You may as well drive the dog to the vet… with a 5 iron.

13:30: It’s beer-thirty, so beer it is!  Drank, of course, from a bowl since all the glasses are either dirty, broken or full of quarters.

13:45: You now should have regained most of your senses and realized that the shower you peed in earlier was actually your roommate’s bed.  This is made funnier considering he was still in it, and that shower curtain you threw back were his sheets.  While laughing heartily you go to wake your other roommate to tell him, but remember you locked him out on the patio last night after he lost an argument about who would be the better president of earth: Batman or Superman?  (Batman, duh.)

“I did not have sexual relations with that sidekick.”

14:00: Three beers down now.  Well, best let grumpy ol’  Porchy McSleeperson inside.

14:01: Get into fight.  Go to other bathroom and pee into the toilet while having a shower, ohhh this could be irony if you actually knew what that meant.  The other roommate has locked his door.  You hear sobbing.  He must be watching a movie.

14:25:  Hmm, must have had one of those mid-walk naps… Loosen belt from neck and exit that posture-killing closet.  Your brain must have tried to get forty winks in before you put forty drinks in.

14:42: Six beers gone.  Man, you sure showed that dog what was up!  Just about drowned those “I am too drunk to drive” jitters.

14:44: Seven beers gone.  Time to go to the pub!  Maybeeeee I should call a taxi instead.  Where’s my purse?

Wait. What number did I dial?

15:22: Arrive at the pub to join all the wannabe, drunken, tough guys pretending to be Irish and spewing horrible accents and green vomit from their mouths.   All the while wearing a colour that nobody looks good in.

16:30:All caught up using the time-tested technique of putting a shot of gin in each green beer you hastily quaff.  Someone starts singing an Irish drinking song but no one seems to know the words.  Spent the last hour bragging about actually being Irish for some reason.

17:00: Start singing a Canadian drinking song, pass it off as Irish; everybody joins in.  Green shots seem like a good idea, though pointless since you can no longer see colour.

18:00: Using the pub’s bathroom is now far too inconvenient.   You and your bladder decide to christen the new Toyota Prius in the parking lot as your new urinal.

18:02: Oh yeah, and you’ve decided to take up smoking.

20:00: Spent two hours asking people if they wanted to see your “Shelayleeeeee!

21:04: Your fake Irish accent has become distorted into a hybrid of Arnold Schwarzenegger and Gay Robot.

“The Space Boner ? How about you blow your milky way into my assteroid? *beep boop beep*”

22:12:  The Magic Bus finally came, picked up all the ugly slags and switched them with chicks that you would totally bang.  Overhear some guy whining about his Prius smelling like piss.

22:43: Rejected by the girl you’ve been macking on all night long.  Turns out that wasn’t a girl, it was a jukebox; save some face by being commended for actually playing good music.  Can’t stop the tears though.  Play Bruce Cockburn’s’ Lovers In A Dangerous Time 8 times in a row.

23:10: You go and see if the claw machine is dating anybody.

23:28: Argued with a random stranger for 45 minutes about how much wood a woodchuck could chuck if that woodchuck did indeed chuck some wood.  You both agree on “A Metric Fuckload.”  And then you get into a fight for no reason.

23:59: Everyone seems to know the words to every Irish drinking song now and they are crooned loud and indecipherable as the clock strikes 12 and you strike your head against the bar.

SUNDAY
14:40: Wake up… in the fucking closet!  You vow to take the shelves out and leave a pillow in there for next time.

14:45: Take your first green dump, and panic until you realize why.  Wipe away shamrock poop with eviction notice.

And why you pooped in a bowl

THE END.

It’s just like Christmas.
Except with people you like…
And the Elves are drunk.
RLLD/NPX

      From The Space Boner and our Friends @ Someecards.com:          HAPPY ST. PATRICK’S DAY!


Meals Regretfully Eaten, Part 2: MREtarded

Contributing Authors: neuroparadox (NPX), ramalamalongdong (RLLD), JockolateBear (JOCKO)

Time for the second part of our “Torture ourselves for your amusement” series.
It has been over a month since our first foray into the world of barely edible food.  The length between parts is not due to our laziness, but to the time need for our stomach linings to grow back and their ability to handle solid food once again.  We have a guest joining us this time, but he is just here to finish our drinks and have 911 pre-typed into his phone for the inevitable ambulance ride to the hospital and, more likely, morgue.  This whole experiment is going to be diarrhisky©.  So against all common sense and doctor’s orders, we dive once more into the breach.

Opening Thoughts:
NPX: ”All of the closing summaries of each food item will be of things I would rather be doing than eating this shit.  I hope there is enough watermelon vodka this time.”
JOCKO: “I am an indian, my thoughts are of no concern to the oppressive white man.” *Starts dancing*
RLLD: “It’s a shame his people don’t believe in taxes, because he couldn’t have picked a more ‘taxing’ (get it?) activity to show up for!  Mind you, I think he’s just here for the free food and to steal our empties.”

MRE # 4: Cheese Tortellini Vegetarian

Contains: Pasta in Tomato Sauce, Apple Pieces, Peanut Butter & Crackers, Energy Bar, Lemonade.

My stomach feels diarrhea-tarded already

Chunky Peanut Butter and Crackers:
RLLD
:  This again?  Pretty sure that not even a stray canine (straynine?) would lick this peanut butter out of your ass no matter how desperate it was!
RATING: ★★☆☆☆  “Michael Vick wouldn’t feed this shit to his dogs.”

NPX: Ah yes, I remember these from the Penne Pasta MRE, probably because there is still some stuck to the roof of my mouth.  I also remember the moisture absorbing quality of the crackers. I suggest that Procter & Gamble snatch up this technology so they can wrap soup cans with the crackers and sell it to New Jersey women as the new Tampax: For Whores.
RATING: ★★☆☆☆  “I would rather be a moustache groomer on the set of gay porno.”

JOCKO: Did you guys buy Budweiser?  It truly is the Chief of beers.
RATING:  ”1 out of 12 Buds gone!  I hope you lightwhites bought more, eh.”

Why did they have to cancel Dawson's Creek?!

First Strike Chocolate Energy Bar:
NPX:
 Haha it kind of looks like an Eat-more bar!  *Takes bite, stops laughing*  Ughh more like an Eat-less (Zing!).  They should call it ‘Fist Strike’ because it hits you in the taste buds with jab of awful molasses flavour and doesn’t stop until it is punch-fucking your throat into reverse-paristalsis.
RATING: ★★½☆☆  “I would rather eat a fart-flavoured hot dog out of Rosie O’Donnell’s hairy vagiant.”

RLLD: Well this sucked.  I don’t think I ever met an energy bar that I liked in the first place.  Why I thought one dubbed “First Strike” that came out of a plastic bag packed for war would be any different is beyond me.  The threat of having to eat this would give me more energy than eating it itself.
RATING: ½☆☆☆☆  “Only because it made me think of an Oh Henry and made my mouth water.  And then I tried it and swore off food forever.”

JOCKO: I get all the energy I need from hunting my own meals…from the local Save-On…using food stamps as my weapon.
RATING:  ”I rate my hunting skills 4 out of 5 mighty buffalo…wings.”

The first thing it strikes is your taste buds

Powder Base Lemonade:
NPX:
 This tasted ok I guess.  Kind of like if you took Crystal Light and mixed in some fish poison.  I am concerned by the name of some of the ingredients shown on the surprisingly normal-sized packaging.  If only there was something we could add to make this drink less harmful.  *Grabs WMV, adds 4 Oz.*  My watermelony master fixes all drinks and makes me forget all wrongs.  Now, who parked my truck on the lawn and spilled Elmer’s glue on my Twilight poster?
RATING: ★★★☆☆ “I would rather have lemonade just like mom used to make: lemons, water, sugar and telling me what a disappointment I am.”

RLLD: They call it lemonade, I call it the beginning of a canker sore.
RATING: ★★☆☆☆ ”I would taste great with watermelon vodka if you left out the lemonade part.”

JOCKO: This drink is too sweet and way too non-alcoholic for my refined pallete.  Also, it burns the holes in my gums where teeth used-to-was.
RATING:  ”I rate thishh 4 of my original teeth left out of 32.”

One drink to rule them all!

Spiced Apple Slices:
RLLD:  Apparently they recycle apples…  Ever heard the term used by someone describing how they feel after getting pissed the night before?  “I feel like a bag of smashed apples?”  Well, obviously they were exaggerating, because they were never vac-sealed and shipped overseas to feed soldiers.
RATING: ★½☆☆☆ “Did anyone hear that sweet Al-Qaeda/Apple-Pieda joke I made?!  Fuck.”

NPX: These kind of taste like apples; in the same way that placenta also kind of tastes like apples.  Except placenta has a lot more pleasing texture…and taste.  I am pretty sure this gave me tuberculosis somehow.
RATING: ★☆☆☆☆ “I would rather be bukkaked by Spider-man and Peter North.”

JOCKO: These have an extremely smokey flavour that reminds me of bingo night (every night!).  Oh wait, I am eating from an ashtray.
RATING:      ”I rate that ashtray 3 out of 5 cigarettes”

Pre-chewed for your unenjoyment

Cheese Tortellini and Tomato Sauce:
RLLD:  Tastes like bark mulch.  If the Flu had a flavour, it would taste like the combined spices did after we added them half-way through the main course.  Looks like Leonardo, Donatello, Michaelangelo, and Shakespeare took a shit in a circle.
RATING: ★★☆☆☆ ”Two words: Chernobyl pasta.”

NPX: This is how I know God doesn’t exist.  On the plus side, my tears added a nice salty flavour.  Not surprisingly, this had the same consistency of the apples only without the tangy zip of tasting like mucus.
RATING: ★★☆☆☆  “I would rather eat a bowlful of leaky batteries.”

JOCKO: I don’t know what kind of fish a Tortellini is.  How many can I fit in my canoe?  Is it like a salmon?  I love salmon.
RATING:  ”I would eat delicious salmon 6 out of 7 days a week.”

Chef Boyardisgusting

 

MRE # 5: Chicken Fajita

Contains: Chicken Fajita Filling, Tortillas, Mexican Style Rice, Snack Crackers, Cheese Spread, Irish Cream Cappuccino.

The first time we have had a chicken ration

Mexican Rice:
RLLD:  At first glance I will admit that I didn’t have high expectations for this.  I mean, what’s Mexican rice?  I have had SPANISH rice, but never Mexican.  I best take a bite to see how it is…
Holy shit!  Call me if you want some winning lotto numbers, or the winner of the Super Bowl because I am clearly psychic.  This stale piece of garbage had the texture of stale rice…after someone else ate it, washed it down with some Sauza Silver, and took a shit on a hot sidewalk.
RATING: ★☆☆☆☆ “Hard, brown, with chunks of corn and questionable red and green spots throughout it, surrounded by soft, runny edges is how it looked both before, and after.”

NPX: You know something’s not going to be good when you remove it from its packaging and it holds the same shape as the bag it was in.  Look at that picture down there!  I am surprised that serial number that was stamped on the bag wasn’t depressed into the rice blob.  Speaking of depressed…eating this makes me want to slash my wrists with the plastic spoon that was included in the MRE.  The rice isn’t even cooked all the way through.  It’s like raccoon got into some raw rice and chili peppers, ate it and then shit directly into a foil pouch.
RATING: ½☆☆☆☆  “I would rather staple my dick to my balls.”

JOCKO: How much did all this food cost?  I would chip in, but I don’t get paid until the first Wednesday of every month.”
RATING:     ”3 out of 4 of my social assistance cheques are blown on salmon and Budweiser every quarter.”

"Your rice envelope is served, sir"

Cheese Snack Crackers w/ Cheese Spread:
RLLD:
Not too shabby.  Other than the expected stale tasting crackers that we seem to constant have to ingest at every turn.  These crackers were greasy as fuck though.  I am pretty sure that I could rub them on chest over my heart to see how clogged the cheese spread made my arteries.
RATING: ★★★☆☆ ”A star for each cardiac bypass I’ll soon need.”

NPX: These are probably the most tolerable thing I will eat today.  I still can’t stand the cheese spread though; it’s like a bunch of Oompa Loompas circle-jerked into a tube and laughingly sold it to the US government.  The crackers themselves aren’t completely inedible, although they are greasier than an Italian’s pillow.  I dropped some on the floor and was able to see through to the basement.
RATING: ★★★½☆  “I would rather have an orgy with two dead cats, an active volcano, Andy Dick and an aggressively gay shark with herpes.  Also, Andy Dick has herpes too.”

JOCKO: I fucking rode here on a bike.
RATING:  ”1 stolen bike.”

You would think cheese and cheese would go together...

Chicken Fajita w/ Tortillas:
RLLD:  Okay, this is where the Mexican rice would have come from if I had eaten it first and then shit it  out.  It wasn’t THAT bad, certainly a step up from the rice itself.   This is quite literally the human equivalent of dog food.
RATING: ★★½☆☆ “Eating this is like tossing a hot chick’s salad: The bowl may be nice, but in the end, the meal is still kind of shitty.”

NPX: I was equally excited and anxious about finally having a chicken dish to eat.  My excitement was quickly dashed with one whiff of the fajita, and my anxiety was affirmed with a taste.  While the actual flavour of the chicken and fajita-flavoured slug juice wasn’t too bad, the consistency of the dish was left in purgatory somewhere between fresh cat throw-up and the lung scrapings from a smoker’s autopsy.  But still, not too bad!
RATING: ★★★☆☆  “I would rather have sex with Megan Fox, but only if she was really polite about it.”

JOCKO: Did you keep the plummage from the bird?  I want to make a hat.
RATING:  ”Only 7 feathers?!  I need 3 more to finish my war hat and clean out my peace pipe.”

"Who stole the fajitas and then puked in this bowl?"

Irish Cream Cappuccino:
NPX:
  I frequent Starbucks, so I know how a Cappuccino is supposed to taste:  near Halloween it tastes like pumpkin spice, in November it tastes like ham (yum!) and near Christmas it tastes like candy cane.  If it’s just one of my regular morning Cap’s, it tastes like 1 Oz. Amaretto, 1 Oz. Grand Marnier and 1 Oz. Irish Cream.  Also, there is no coffee.  While this coffee isn’t horrible, you are expected to make it in the weird shaped bag that the coffee powder comes in.  Good fucking luck with that; pouring boiling water into a plastic bag, what could possibly go wrong?!
RATING: ★★★☆☆ “I would rather be put into a fart coma by a couple of obese sailors.”

RLLD: This wasn’t bad.  With shipping it was still cheaper than your average Starbucks blend.
RATING: ★★★★☆  ”Cheaper than Starbucks, but still prepared and served by a metrosexual (NPX).”

JOCKO: Cappuccino sounds like another type of fish.  I really have to go to the bathro…nevermind.
RATING:    ”1 out of the 3 of us has a piss-covered shirt.”

Left: The included uhhh drinkbag. Right: The appropriate chalice.

MRE # 6: Beef Enchilada

Contains: Beef Enchilada in Sauce, Refried Beans, Vegetable Crackers & Cheese Spread, Cookie.

Thank sweet baby Jesus, it's the last one!

Vegetable Crackers and Jalapeno Cheese Spread:
RLLD:  Tastes like I just ate smoke.  “Spicy Cardboard” I heard someone reference before they were stretchered out.  I am pretty sure this shit will burn all the way down, and then again all the way up.  My ass is going to spray fire into the air like a dragster running the quarter-mile… which will be me, but at the end of my quarter-mile will be a toilet or dresser drawer…or wherever Mount St. Ramalama decides to blow!
RATING★☆☆☆☆  “And I thought I was lactose intolerant before…”

NPX: I think I have made my feelings about the cheese spread clear, and they are only solidified by the inclusion of jalapenos.  Thanks you MRE, for destroying two of my most beloved food groups: cheese and peppers.  I took my cracker and threw it directly into the trash.
RATING: ★☆☆☆☆ “I would rather let an Asian woman from Alberta drive my car in the snow.”

JOCKO: Is that a ’78 Ford in your garage?  Mind if I take some parts while you are sleeping?
RATING:     ”2 of the 4 Fords parked on my lawn are up on blocks…the other 2 are rusted to the frame and grown over by the never-been-mowed grass.”

I just pray they don't have "meat crackers"

Refried Beans:
RLLD:  Boring, looked like someone took a dump on my plate, zero flavour, needed salt, and could hold drywall in place.  Tasted just like every other plate of refried beans I’ve ever had.  What the hell is this sauce they gave us?  Battery acid?
RATING: ★☆☆☆☆ “If it walks like shit, and quacks like shit…It must be from Mexico.”

NPX: Two words: Re-cryed beans.  The only way that these can be considered refried beans is if the word “fried” also means “shit out by a sick Buffalo.” We added some of the picante sauce to the beans, but I am pretty sure it was just untreated water from a pulp mill.
RATING: ★½☆☆☆ “I would rather blindly drain every curiously effervescent drink bought for me in a rough gay bar.”

JOCKO: My girlfriends/cousins always kick me out of the house if I eat beans.  They make my rear end have ‘big thunder.’
RATING:  ”These beans make 4 out of 5 stinky triangle tents.”

Shown with a side of WTF sauce

Beef Enchilada:
RLLD: Did anyone taste test this shit before it went out to those defending freedom?  If freedom means people can make crap like this, then long live Kim Jong Il.  Oh wait, we forgot the seasoning. *Adds ground red pepper packet* AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!   Cheesus Crust!  The delayed shock of eating what appears to be dried battery acid hit me!  This is what Mustard Gas must taste like.  My mouth is hotter than a German oven!  Desperation and agony make me believe that sawing my balls off will help somehow.
RATING: ☆☆☆☆☆  “Zero!  Just like how many taste buds I have left!”

NPX:
 Hmmmm, looks like the tortellini but just with one giant pasta in the middle.  Oh well it doesn’t really taste bad, maybe this red pepper powder that it came with will make it better…I wonder what RLLD is screaming about. *Adds pepper* …wtf? WTF? WTF!? AwooooOOOOOooOOOOOO!  SONOFABITCH!  Cockblaster that is spicy!  My mouth is hotter than an Indian’s TV!  I can’t stop sneezing and spraying enchilada sauce (and blood?) all over the walls.  Now I see why America had to pull out of Vietnam.
RATING: ★★★★½ “I would pretty much do anything to record RLLD’s face as he eats another spoonful of peppery death.”

JOCKO: You two have become like brothers to me.  We shall bury RLLD in my tribe’s ancient burial ground that was recently found between the bingo hall and discount liquor store.
RATING:   ”Once we bury him, there will be an actual human body there instead of just cat bones and chicken wings.  I mean shhhhhhh.”

Looks like it could use a little spice!

Cookie with Pan Coated Chocolate Discs:
RLLD:  I may as well have eaten air.  I taste, feel, and sense nothing anymore after the Beef Enchilada.  Hmmmm…why can I see myself laying on the floor, NPX playing on my cell phone and JOCKO passed out after drinking two Budweiser and some paint?  Uh oh…
RATING: ★★★★☆ “Well if I am a ghost, first stop is the girl’s lockeroom at the Catholic high school.  Does that make me a deadophile?”

NPX: It’s good to see that the US can’t afford to license M&M’s and instead opted for ”pan coated chocolate discs.”  That name really just rolls off the tongue.  This cookie is actually pretty normal!  Finally something that isn’t at all freaky-deaky.  Wait a minute, the cookie is staring at me…there is a face in the cookie!  Oh my god, he is telling me to burn things.  I must obey my delicious cookie master and light JOCKO on fire.
RATING: ★★★★★ “I would rather have a dessert that is not a pyromaniac.”

JOCKO: What the fuck, eh?  Did you just light me on fire?  I only eat the red pan coated chocolate discs. *More dancing*
RATING:  ”4 out of 5 dreamcatchers.  But that’s only because I am so wasted from drinking all of your guys’ cherry whiskey and red wine vinegar.”

Even the cookie mocks us!

Closing Thoughts:
RLLD:
“And this concludes part two of our self-sodomization.  Never in a million years will I do this again.  Even if I wanted too, the Beef Enchiladeath fused my lips together.  I am pretty sure I was resuscitated twice tonight.  Same with Jocko though, but that’s what you get for drinking Lysol.”
NPX: “Let’s not do this ever again.  Ever.  Hey, did RLLD die?  Give me his phone.”
JOCKO: “Teepee or not Teepee that is the question…did you piss on my shirt?!”

Haiku:

Eat some more of these?
Ummm I think we would rather

swallow a bullet
     —NPX/RLLD

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