Kine Bud and Roller Coasters, Very Different or Remarkably Similar?

If you know your Cedar Point roller-coasters/smoking apparati, these are self-explanatory.


Three-foot Bong = Millenium Force

Bong = Magnum

Piece = Gemini

Vaporizer = Top-Thrill Dragster

Blunt = Raptor

Joint = Mantis

One-Hitter = Blue Streak

Steam-roller = Mean Streak

Resin Bowl = Iron Dragon

Smoking seeds and stems = Gemini Jr.

Any others i forgot?

Farewell Blogville

i remember the good ole' days when you could pass out with a colored folk and take a leak in the bed.

I might do a post soon about my life as an involved man. I've begun to realize that when you can't just disappear into the morning mist and actually have to deal with the ramifications of your actions, the carelessness and lack of respect tends to dissipate, so do all the good stories.

If you guys are interested I could tell you all about the great dinner we had on sweetest day, or perhaps you'd like to hear about nights spent spooning and talking about "feelings".

No, you want piss, sex, blowjobs, and tag-teams, and I'm not about to become some faggy romance novel author.

My point? Following suit with Fishman I think it's time to hang up the keyboard and call it a day for this bloggist too. One day if I decide kissing and telling would benefit my relationship in some manner, you'll get to hear some fantastic things, until then I join Fishman as an observer.

Legends were made on this blog, and the stories contained within will remain for a while I'm sure, until the blog goes idle and it gets wiped out, then there's nothing, except a girl who got eiffel towered, one who got pissed on, and one who took it in the butt. They can't delete it unfortunately.

-Cummins

Happy Anniversary

A lot of people don't have a brain like mine, that, despite being bombarded with alcohol, marijuana and other substances for the past couple years, still remembers it was a year ago this weekend that this blog was founded by myself, Fishmang and Sanders.

In the past year, this blog has seen a lot of action, as it waxed and waned in interest according to our schedules, work load and, of course, the stories that were posted. We saw our peak in late October as Cummins posted "Have You Ever Seen Paris", which is the front-runner for best post of the year. That same week i posted a highly controversial account of my Halloween weekend at Michigan State. Then, as midterms approached and the weather got colder, there was simultaneously less to write about and less time to write it. So the blog, like a 91 Lincoln Continental, sputtered for awhile, until after New Years i had the inspiration to fish out an old alcohol-related story from the summer, which revived reader and writer interest. I then posted something or other about the future and a couple of stories about male nudity at the cottage. I soon followed that up with a riveting two-part saga documenting our high school spring break trip. But then i got tired. Everything i wrote all started to sound the same, and i realized that actually being drunk was way more funny than reading about being drunk. I realized Tucker Max's stories--if they're even true--are funny because he's an asshole and purposely does dumb shit so he can write about it and frat boys all over the country can drink beer and yuk it up while reading it. But i wasn't about to go out of my way to provide material for something that just wasn't that important to begin with.

As the blog continued to lose ground this summer, our team made the poor decision of signing matthew schultz, who had not yet mastered the shift key and wrote all his stories in one big paragraph. This summer and early fall, Sandhop tried to revive the blog with several nonsensical posts, including song lyrics and documentations of excessive sleeping. It was time to face the truth. The blog was dead. And it still is. Truth be told, i would probably still post on here but for one of the first times in my life i am truly busy. I have no idea why college is so much more work this year than last, but it is. So, tonight, when i would normally be writing something amusing, instead you get this half-ass shit, because i have to write a seven-page paper on Moses due in three days that i haven't started yet. I'm not kidding, i'm actually writing a paper on Moses. So, i'm just about done with this thing, at least for this year, if anyone out there reading wants to join our team talk to me and i'll give you the account password.

One last thing, it is an anniversary, so we should celebrate by choosing the best post of the year. I will list four options, one from each major writer, and you can vote for your favorite in the comments section. The winner gets a free round of bong hits at 1105 White Street.

1. "Have You Ever Seen Paris?" (Aaron Cummins)

2. "Fuck You, Detroit Lions" (part 1) Michael E. Sandhop

3. "Political Commentary for the College Freshmang" Jeff Fishmang

4. "Mandrain Oranges" Eric Blogenbloom

My trip to the bay

cutthoatish kine young beezy keekin sup wit it cut what it do mang/womang go dumm like chad johnson hyphe mang. went dumm nd kine dumm peepin beezies chad johnson rlly hyphe womang. kine cutt womang. dummy juice hyphe mang wit womang 2gether chad mang johnson.

get at me.

New Record

Yesterday I slept 19.5 hours, which blew away all previous records [closest was 17]. Just thought I'd let you know.

-Anonymous [apparently it's embarrasing to be associated with this blog]

Death of A Mandrain

It is with a heavy heart that i inform the three or so loyal viewers of this blog that 'Mandrain Oranges' are no longer an item available on Wendy's' menu. Last year, and in previous years, Mandrain Oranges were available as a healthy substitute for fries in any combo meal, or of course by themselves. However, starting recently, 'Mandrain Oranges' were either replaced by baked Lay's potato chips, or just taken off altogether, i am not sure which.

Either way, this truly marks the end of an era in blogging. I never ordered 'Mandrain Oranges' instead of fries, or even considered it, but most of us by now are aware of a classic ERunplugged post by the name of 'Mandrain Oranges'. This post describes a visit by the titular chracter 'ER' to Wendy's, where he must choose between ordering 'Mandrain Oranges' or fries with his combo. In the end, he cannot make up his mind, and he and his friend 'James the Greek' commit suicide by driving their car off a cliff, Thelma and Louise-style.

It seems that a lack of 'Mandrain Oranges' on Wendy's menu tells us that blogs will never be the same again, that we have passed the renaissance of blogging, a short but recognizable period where every subject seemed interesting to write about. The oranges, you see, were not just delicious fruit, but a symbol of the blogging days of the past, which are now gone forever. Let us lament their passing.

-Anonymous

Torn

I was listening to the radio today and I heard a song that brought me back to the days of elementary school. I just wanted to share it with you. I hope it takes you back to the good old days as well.


"Torn" By: Natlie Imbruglia


I thought I saw a man brought to life
He was warm, he came around like he was dignified
He showed me what it was to cry

Well you couldn't be that man I adored
You don't seem to know, don't seem to care what your heart is for
But I don't know him anymore

There's nothing where he used to lie
My conversation has run dry
That's whats going on, nothing's fine I'm torn
I'm all out of faith, this is how I feel
I'm cold and I am shamed lying naked on the floor
Illusion never changed into something real
I'm wide awake and I can see the perfect sky is torn
You're a little late, I'm already torn

So I guess the fortune teller's tell us right
Should have seen just what was there and not some holy light
But you crawled beneath my veins and now
I don't care, I have no luck, I don't miss it all that much


There's just so many things that I can't touch, I'm torn
I'm all out of faith, this is how I feel
I'm cold and I am shamed lying naked on the floor
Illusion never changed into something real
I'm wide awake and I can see the perfect sky is torn
You're a little late, I'm already torn. Torn.

There's nothing where he used to lie
My inspiration has run dry
That's what's going on, nothings right, I'm torn
I'm all out of faith, this is how I feel
I'm cold and I am shamed lying naked on the floor
Illusion never changed into something real
I'm wide awake and I can see the perfect sky is torn
I'm all out of faith, this is how I feel
I'm cold and I'm ashamed bound and broken on the floor
You're a little late, I'm already torn



Well, I hope that was worthwhile. I miss the 90's.

???

Oh.

Here's to my sweet Satan.

The one who's little path will make you sad, whose power is Satan.

He'll give you, give you 666.

There was a little toolshead where he made us suffer, sad Satan.