Category: Uncategorized

Meet William Shitz (part x)

“I found him!” Allen Funt screamed through the torrential rain. It was our second day of hunting for the surprisingly evasive Mr. Shitz. The terrain in the sprawling forest proved to be formidable.

Archibald, shotgun in hand, ran towards Allen’s screams. Darla and myself weren’t far behind. “Where is he?” Archibald asked as he approached.

“Right there,” Allen said.

The butler looked down and was puzzled. “That’s just a hole in the ground,” Archibald replied.

Allen cocked his head. “But I thought that’s what this was,” Funt said, pointing to his ass.

Darla had enough. “This excursion is pointless!” she yelled. “Just let my father die naked and shitting himself in the woods, just as he wanted!”

Allen Funt seconded the notion.

Archibald tuned out the noise as he gazed into the woods ahead. “There,” he pointed.

Less than a 100 yards away was the majestic arctic fox. The creature contrasted like an apparition against the wet and drab forest. “Follow that fox,” Archibald ordered.

The butler proceeded forward while Darla and I followed in his footsteps. Allen Funt fell into the very hole he pointed out moments before.

“Help!” he screamed.

No one came to his aid.

We watched closely as the fox trotted forward a few feet. As the animal neared a meadow, a totally nude Mr. Shitz fell out of a tree and onto Darla’s shoulders. “Father!” she cried, but Mr. Shitz was delivering a rear naked chokehold, quite literally, as he was hanging on to her rear, he was naked, and had her a chokehold.

“Release her!” Archibald ordered.

Darla lost consciousness and fell to the ground. With an open shot, Archibald raised the shotgun and fired. But the spry Mr. Shitz dodged the shrapnel and disappeared into the shadows.

“Goddamn, he’s like the Vietcong,” Archibald said as he reloaded the shotgun.

“What are we going to do?” I asked.

“He’s too dangerous like this,” Archibald replied. “If you see him, kill him.”

Right then, Mr. Shitz swung around a tree and knocked Archibald out cold. The shotgun flew forward to my feet.

I kneeled down to pick up the weapon. But Mr. Shitz was close enough that I could see the rainwater dripping off his ballsack. I slowly picked up the shotgun and returned to my feet.

It was nearing dusk and the rain was falling harder. But the red in Mr. Shitz’s eyes pierced the dark through the booms of thunder and brilliant flashes of light.

TO BE CONTINUED…

another blippi BANGER

Square, circle, star, diamond, octagon, pentagon…goddamn I love this song:

What? Is a grown ass man not allowed to like kid’s songs? My son and I jam to this all damn day. Just admit it: this tune SLAPS!

Plus, I think we can all agree. Those dance moves…

They’re pretty good.

Meet bill shits (part ix)

“He’s close,” Archibald said as he dug his fingers into the soil.

“How can you tell?” I asked.

“There’s a steaming pile of bloody shit right there,” he replied. I looked to the right and lo and behold, right there a reeking pile of human poop.

“It seems like you’ve done this many times before,” I said to him.

“Far too often.”

The four of us-Archibald, Darla, Allen Funt, and myself- trekked through the woods in search of a mentally deteriorating William Shitz. The sun was starting to set. A gentle gust was blowing in from the north; a storm was brewing. While we found hopeful signs that Mr. Shitz was still alive, we only covered a small portion of the 148,971 acres that he owned.

We decided to hunker down for the night. I put together a small fire in the middle of camp. As usual, Allen Funt couldn’t stop crying. “What are we gonna do when we find him?” he bawled.

“We’re gonna kill him,” Archibald replied as he gnawed on a piece of beef jerky.

“But why 😭😭😭😭?” Funt asked.

Archibald threw down his jerky and pulled out a small machete. He grabbed Allen and held him up to a tree with the blade up to his neck. “Because Mr. Shitz wishes it!” Archibald screamed.

“Gentlemen!” I interrupted. “We must maintain our composure! Let’s not make any decisions on Mr. Shitz until we find him!”

Archibald nodded and lowered the machete from Allen’s neck. “I know what I must do,” he said as he slid the blade back into its holster. Then he looked me in the eye. “Just don’t forget what YOU must do.”

Archie climbed back into his tent for the night. So did Allen Funt, as he soiled his pants for the second time that day. Darla and I sat by the fire.

“Why did your father love your mother?” I asked her.

“You really are some kind of fucking moron,” she said as she lowered the flask from her lips. “Why don’t you understand the simplest of human concepts? Are you some kind of alien?”

“In a way,” I replied as I took a swig from the same flask.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Probably not! But try me! Nobody, not even Archie, understands your sudden appearance in my father’s life.”

I took another big hit from the flask. “It is my duty,” I explained, “to guide your father into the next life. Or at least it was. You see, I was his guardian…but I fell out of heaven’s grace.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” she replied. “So if you’re his disgraced guardian angel, then why are you bothering to fulfill your heavenly duties?”

“It’s a long story,” I said. “Redemption I suppose.”

“For what?”

“I…I guess I thought I could be human,” I stuttered. “But I never grasped human love. I was damned…damned to walk the earth; being neither human nor angel. I thought I could do one last thing…revealing to your father love and compassion in his final days; the kind he has never felt before. But then something strange happened.”

“What happened?” Darla asked longingly.

“I met you.”

Darla chuckled and shook her head. “You’re just another drunk weirdo that’s wandered into my life,” she said. Then she stood up and brushed the dirt and leaves from her jeans as the rain started sprinkling down. “But,” she continued, “you ain’t a bad fuck. So you’re welcome to join me in my tent. Just TRY to last longer than two minutes this time, mmk?”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Meet Williams shits (part viii)

“Mr. Shitz is no stranger to wandering bare ass naked in the woods,” Archibald informed us, “this is no cause for alarm.”

“He wanted Allen to kill him with a shotgun, Archie!” I said, “I think concern is warranted here.”

Archibald put his hands up to his face and rubbed his bald head. “What difference does it make?” he asked. “He’ll be dead soon anyway.”

Darla put down the booze and spoke up. “Archie’s right,” she said, “we should let him die the way he wants: balls dangling in the wind.”

“But that’s not the way he wants to go!” I replied. “He wants me to hunt him; he wants us to hunt him.”

“But why, Jim?! Why?!” Allen Funt cried out.

I went to the bar and poured a stiff drink. “Because…,” I said, “because his whole life he’s felt misunderstood. He’s been alone in this world. He wants us to to prove our love to him, by hunting him in the wilderness so we might see his true self.”

Allen Funt continued to bawl his eyes out. “I just want to go home and see my family!” he cried.

“Calm yourself, Allen,” I said, “you’re just as much a part of this as we are.”

Darla, already three sheets to the wind, tried to slur out her words. “And how do you know so much about father, Mr. Grey?” she asked.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I replied. “None of you would.”

Archibald picked up the shotgun and began loading shells. “Probably not, Mr. Grey,” he said, “but I know what I must do. I’ve been William Shitz’s butler for 47 years. If anyone must put him down, it should be me.”

“That’s your responsibility?” I asked.

Archibald took a long pause. “Yes,” he said. “It’s common knowledge that butlers must take an oath to do what must be done, even if that means mercifully killing his master with a shotgun. It is my sworn duty.”

I walked up to the aged butler and put my hands on his shoulders. “When the time comes,” I asked, “can you do what must be done?”

“Yes, Mr. Grey,” he said as he looked me square in the eye, “and if I can’t pull the trigger, then it becomes your responsibility…and I too must be executed for my dereliction of duty.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Meet William shits (part vii)

“The arctic fox spends its days burrowing underground and avoiding contact with its own kind,” Mr. Shitz explained while staring down the sights of his shotgun. “It’s a solitary animal, much like myself. When it dies, it dies alone.”

Mr. Shitz pulled the trigger, unleashing the sound of hell. A helpless fox, only a few yards ahead, exploded into a million pieces, leaving only fur and guts strewn about.

After witnessing the appalling sight, Allen Funt started heaving at the foot of a tree. With a slight smile on his face, Mr. Shitz reloaded the shotgun. “Mr. Funt,” he said, “I do believe it’s your turn.”

“No thank you, sir,” Mr. Funt replied as tears streamed down his face, “I just don’t have it in me!”

“Goddamnit Allen!” Shitz yelled, “I will be dead in less than a year and you will be the CEO of a billion dollar company! Now if you want PTO, a livable wage, and health insurance, you will senselessly kill the last surviving member of this species into extinction!”

“I can’t!”

Shitz cocked the shotgun and directed towards Funt. “You will!” he declared.

“Oh god I’m gonna die!!!”

“Gentlemen,” I interrupted, “what’s the meaning of this? Mr. Shitz, please lower your weapon.”

Allen Funt pissed his pants as he had a stare down with Mr. Shitz. He also shit pants. After a few moments, William came to his senses and lowered the shotgun.

“My apologies, gentlemen,” Mr. Shitz said. “Mr. Funt, it was my hope that killing these animals would give you the courage to turn this shotgun on me. It was my dream to be executed by the man who would supplant me as CEO.”

William then looked out onto the field to admire the last surviving arctic fox. It was juxtaposed proudly against the endless horizon. “It’s just you and me!” William yelled to the animal, “we’re the last of our kind!”

He dropped the shotgun by his side then looked over to me. “Mr. Grey,” William said, “you are my protector; my guide across the river Styx. But I’m not ready to punch that ticket.”

Mr. Shitz started stripping off his clothes, down to his underwear. Finally his bare cock was flapping in the wind. It was cold that day.

“Jim Grey,” William continued, “if you want me dead, you’ll have to catch me first.”

Allen Funt and I then watched Mr. Shitz’s flabby asscheeks jiggle as he hopped like a jackrabbit into the tree line.

TO BE CONTINUED…

meet William Shitz (part vi)

“Don’t tell anyone that we fucked,” Darla said as she climbed naked out of bed. “I can’t think of anything more embarrassing than sleeping with the gardener.”

“I understand,” I replied.

“By the way,” she asked as she strapped on her brassiere, “how do you know my father has ass cancer?”

I began to stutter. “I, uh…it’s a long story.”

“Oh shit,” Darla said, “you’re not one of his long lost children are you?”

“Umm…no?”

“Oh thank god,” she exhaled, “I wouldn’t want THAT to happen again!”

“ANYWAYS…,” I replied, “Will you be returning to France anytime soon?”

“God no, I’d rather be the one that has ass cancer.”

“Then why’d you go there in the first place?”

Darla paused dressing for a moment. “I…I was dating Stromae.”

“But he’s Belgian.”

“Look, you’re not INTERPOL! I don’t have to tell you shit!” Darla exploded. She finished dressing and stormed out of the guest house.

I climbed out of bed when Archibald wondered in with breakfast on a tray. I was putting on my underwear.

“Exquisite dong, sir,” he said

“Thank you Archibald.”

“I trust you laid the pipe well last night.”

I tilted my head. “But Archibald, how did you know?”

“Now now,” he said, “Mr. Shitz pays me very well to know goings on within his estate. A flea can’t fart…as the expression goes…without me hearing it. So please, Mr. Grey, please handle Ms. Shitz delicately.”

“But Archie,” I replied, “it was just a one time thing. It…it won’t happen again.”

Archibald was skeptical. “Mr. Grey, what goes on between two adults is none of my business. But, I figured you to be of higher character.”

I nodded as I looked down to the floor.

“Now,” he continued, “when you finish breakfast, Mr. Shitz has requested that you join him on a hunting excursion. A rare breed of arctic fox has been brought to the estate, and Mr. Shitz would like to hunt it into extinction before cancer takes its toll. His associate, Mr. Allen Funt will be joining the party. Please be punctual.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

professional teams I love to laugh at

You won’t find the Dallas Cowboys on this list. Sorry to disappoint. We all know they’re perpetually mediocre so why bother wasting words?

Chicago Cubs

I’ll admit, I don’t particularly like baseball. But weren’t the Cubs, like, losers for over 100 years? Then 2016 happened and suddenly everyone’s a fan?

Miss me with that shit.

God bless Steve Bartman. I hope it’s another 100 years before they win another World Series.

The Entire Premier League

You know what sucks?

Arsenal, Manchester City, Tottenham Hotspurs, Brighton, Manchester United, Chelsea, Liverpool, Brentford, Leeds United, Fulham, Newcastle, Southampton, Bournemouth, Wolverhampton, Crystal Palace, Everton, Aston Villa, West Ham, Nottingham Forest, and Leicester City.

Fuck all of em…in that order. American sports fans catch a lot of shit, and rightfully so. But the British are on a whole other level.

Y’all need help.

But REAL football fans watch the Scottish Professional Football League.

Green Bay Packers

The gold standard for bandwagon teams are the Dallas Cowboys. But I think it’s high time for the Green Bay Packers to claim that title.

3/4ths of that fan base can’t tell you where Green Bay is. Half the fans probably don’t know that the team is in Wisconsin. And a quarter of the fans can’t tell you who the quarterback was before Aaron Rodgers.

And speaking of Brett Favre, yeah I laugh at the guy every single day, but if you’re a Packer fan and you’re STILL upset that Favre briefly played for the Minnesota Vikings…fuck off.

The NFL is a PROFESSIONAL league and what Favre did was make a business decision. So be thankful for what you got out of him.

Besides, yeah your team chokes in the playoffs every year but at least you’re not the…

Houston Texans

The Detroit Lions and Cleveland Browns at least have history. The Los Angeles Chargers have dope-ass uniforms. And the Jacksonville Jaguars are too inoffensive to make fun of.

Most snake-bitten franchises at least have something going for them.

Then there’s the Houston Texans, a team that’s so perpetually incompetent that they now just let a chaplain run the front office. I guess they figure that God save that dump of a franchise.

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college teams I love to laugh at

So Meet William Shitz ain’t killing it in the ratings. But you know what? Fuck all y’all. It’s my finest work and if you can’t see that then you’re a stupid asshole.

But you know what does kill it in the ratings?

College football.

So here are the following schools that I love to laugh at because those teams, and their fan bases, suck and I hope their pain lasts forever.

Arkansas Razorbacks

Let’s get one thing straight: the Hogs have been decent under Sam Pittman. But y’all haven’t won a Natty since, what, 1964?

It ain’t happening. It ever gonna happen. Your basketball team will definitely win another title before your football team will.

Fuck the Razorbacks and that landfill known as Donald W. Reynolds Stadium (and the state of Arkansas).

Wisconsin Badgers

Quietly the most overrated team in all of college sports…in both football AND basketball. (I’ll never forgive Frank Kaminsky for flopping his way past the greatest college basketball team in the 2014-15 Kentucky Wildcats and into the national title game). Y’all just got beat by Washington State- AT HOME – but will still somehow manage to stay in the Top 25.

Wisconsin will always be given the benefit of the doubt. And why am I the only one that notices this?

Georgia Bulldogs

Mascot’s cute tho

Everyone hates on Alabama, but that’s just projection. Tide fans know that their team is better than yours so they don’t give a shit about your trash talk. I can at least share a room with these guys.

Georgia fans? Not so much.

Let’s go out and win a few more titles before you start crowning yourselves the new kings of the SEC. Mmmk?

Auburn Tigers

Pick a damn mascot, Auburn!

Honestly, I just feel sorry for you guys. I can’t imagine how the last 15 years have felt. And you guys have been pretty good during that span.

But no matter how well the team performs, the Auburn Tigers will always be the second best in a state that has nothing going for it other than college football.

Michigan State Spartans

The Spartans are the Auburn Tigers of the Big 10 and I can’t think of a bigger insult than that.

Texas A&M Aggies

Pop quiz hot shot! What does the “A&M” stand for?

If you guessed “Assholes & Morons,” you are correct!

I don’t know about A&M fans, but graduates of the institution are the most arrogant I’ve ever met. According to them, you either went to Texas A&M or you didn’t go to college.

So fuck College Station. Fuck Whataburger. And fuck Jimbo Fisher AKA the most overrated coach in college sports.

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