11.27.07 JACKIE CHAN PROBABLY NOT MR. MIYAGI

we chinese peepo maka gooood egga wolls ^__^ itsa soooo goood!

BANZAI!

Wax on, whacks off!

SWEEP TEH LEG JONNY!

My friend’s sister had brain cancer when she was only 1 year old and got to meet Mr. Miyagi.  She’s perfectly healthy and normal now.  I think we all know how Mr. Miyagi healed her. 

Semen.

Dor sho gha, Danielsan! No usea teeth!

I named my cat "Miyagi".

My cat’s dead too. 

True story time.  I once had a really bad stomach ache while walking around in chinatown and who do I pass on the street but Mr. Miyagi himself!  I stop him and he gives me this crazy look.  I tell him how big of a fan I am of his.  He kind of just nods and smiles.  That’s when my stomach made a horribly loud noise and he asked if I was ok.  I told him of my ailing stomach problems and that I would be really appreciative if he used his magical healing tricks on.  So I followed him to his office.  The pain was so bad I must’ve blacked out from it.  The next thing I knew I woke up in an alleyway with a funny taste in my mouth.  But lo and behold, my stomach ache was gone!   Unfortunately, I now had a headache.  As much as I scoured chinatown, I couldn’t find Mr. Miyagi to help me cure that ailment. 

Sometimes I wonder if he was Mr. Miyagi at all.  Mr Miyagi is black, right? 

I named my cat Chicken and taught it to run from Woks.

Hey, as much as Pat Morita’s semen can cure cancer, lets not forget that it can be disasterous in large doses. Just look at Hilary Swank.

ZING!!!!!! 

to Ares – Aunt Lorraine? Is that you?

true story: my father isn’t racist, he’s just got a really acute sense of humor. that prefaced, my family is visitng in LA and we all go out to eat at a "legit" chinese resraunt. so the waiter comes up and asks for our orders, at the end of which my dad (bless his heart) says, "and if you don’t hustle on the food….i’m gonna’ KARATE CHOP ya’ !!!". at which point he forms his hand into a fin and "chops" at the waiters stomach. my dad bursts out in laughter and everyone else just buries their face in their menus.

Johnny Lawrence owned the universe in 1984. The universe was, to him, the wealthier part of the San Fernando Valley (and not that shithole Reseda) but it was his first and, he hoped, last horizon. High school was a non-stop carnival of Cobra Kai karate class, make-out sessions with Ali, his hottie girlfriend, and doled-out skull-bashings to any spindly nerd crossing his swaggering path. But his universe flickered senior year. First, Ali dumped him. Then, a skinny, olive-skinned New Jersey asshole named Daniel LaRusso appeared. Worse, it looked like he and Ali were flirting, hooking up—right in front of him! He and his Cobra Kai buddies tuned up LaRusso as best they could. At first on the beach, and then a night-time knuckle-session outside the high school’s Halloween dance. Johnny had been smoking some righteous ging, and for a second felt like he might actually be able to kill Daniel. Hadn’t his Cobra Kai instructor always said, "An enemy deserves no mercy?" There were times, when he was deeply stoned, that Johnny wished he were a cobra.And hadn’t his father always admonished: "I will move you so far the fuck away from this town if I ever see you back down from someone smaller than you?" The old man, with his grey hair, bulgy eyes and pot belly, holding sway over a car wash empire that had made him a multi-millionaire. Johnny loved, feared, and hated him.So Johnny fed his father an elaborate lie about being jumped by eight Mexicans when he and his crew were stopped mid-thrash by LaRusso’s only friend—a pudgy, sawed-off Asian maintenance man.But that maintenance man was the last thing to go wrong for Johnny that year. He took LaRusso out to a junkyard and imparted some kind of ancient Chinese ass-kicking secret to the goddamn shrimp, and in the end it only took a single Crane Kick to shatter Johnny’s San Fernando Universe.

His father, sickened and mortified, immediately moved Johnny to a new school, forcing him to finish his senior year under the name of "Greg Tolan". He also forbade Johnny to practice any martial arts. Heartbroken, but paralyzed with fear of his father, "Greg" took to mindlessly hoisting cafeteria tables, taking a perverse thrill in seeing people and food spilled into the ground. What was this new, sexual charge he felt? He was a bad boy making a big messy-poo, and seeing things splash and make a stainy-wainy made him want to be punished, paddled, humiliated. He didn’t like thinking too deeply about it. But he was happy.

For a while. Because sure enough, another skinny, olive-skinned boy hove into view. He even looked like Daniel LaRusso (even though he dressed like Elvis Costello). This new kid seemed more?delicate. Feminine. What were these feelings?It was too much for "Greg". At a beach dance (another fight on another beach), he threw the Daniel LaRusso look-alike into the ocean. But his satisfaction was short-lived. The new kid’s wigger friend knocked "Greg" unconscious with a single punch.

Back home, Johnny’s father was apoplectic. He packed Johnny off to college, where he went under the name "Chaz". The smell of the sea haunted him, and he quickly took up diving as a sport. Splashing into the water, over and over again. Diving headfirst into oblivion, like he’d always wanted to.But goddamit, here was yet another third olive-skinned, dark-haired little wimp in his life. Was his life ever to be free of gawky shrimps? This one didn’t even give Johnny the courtesy of beating the shit out of him. He simply took his girlfriend away, like it was the third act of some badly-written comedy, where the writers simply needed the little shrimp to hook up with the impossibly hot older girl. It made no goddamn sense. And then, as if the gods had become tired of pissing on him and had decided to start shitting, the shrimp’s grey-haired father (the spitting image of Johnny’s own dad) defeated him in the diving finals, doing a ridiculous dive called the "Triple Lindy". It was as if his own father had finally, publicly, rejected his spawn, painting Johnny’s defeat in the sky in a series of mid-air somersaults.

Johnny dropped out of college and drifted to Los Angeles. He wandered into a pawn shop to see if there was an old karate gi he could buy. The burly man behind the counter told him he might have something in the basement. Johnny followed him, not even hearing the whistle of air as the leather sap crashed against his skull and his world turned black.They cut out his tongue and dressed him in zippered leather, making him look like a mutant cobra. They sodomized the memory of every olive-skinned, dark-haired shrimp from his mind forever, and for that he was grateful. The store owner and his mascara’d security guard friend, light years away from his distinguished, hated father.When they woke him up to watch over their newest prey—a bald, intense boxer who they left tied up while they "partied" with his gangster buddy, he was no longer "Johnny Lawrence" or "Greg Tolan" or even "Chaz". He was "The Gimp". His life consisted of his box, the protein shakes they fed him through a straw, blaring 50’s rock ‘n’ roll and his monthly Handi-Wipe bath. That’s why he started screaming, tongue-less, when the bald boxer worked himself out his straps and made his escape. And when the boxer sent a crashing right hand into The Gimp’s melon, Johnny’s last thought was thanks to the laughing gods that at least it wasn’t a goddamn Crane Kick.

Yes Jacktion! It is I, your long lost Aunt Lorraine. Sorry I haven’t been around much. Old men really like to knock the dust off my vag so I’ve been spending lots of time on my back. Enjoy youth while you can because it really gets tiring having your legs behind your head at my age. Not to mention what it does to my hips.

woah flux…you okay, dude?

reluctantflux – that post was way toooooooo  long. gave up after SFV (ex-hometown an porn capital of cali) chodin – your father seems like a stately gentleman. tell him i support his ‘karate chopping’ of chinamen. 

Wow Flux, I need fucking adderall to read that novel. Actually, unless you turn that into a graphic novella and somebody makes a movie out of it I’ll never make it all the way through.

That was by Patton Oswald. I know it’s long, but it’s entirely worth the read.

jack’s aunt just turned me on, anyone else?

patton oswalT damnit. he’s a comedic genius ! piss drinkers!

What, you young whippersnappers want to run the train on Aunt Lorraine?

wwbd – my dad’s the same guy who strolls into a mexican restraunt and is like, "hola hombres, (and then he starts to talk real slow) i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i wo-o-o-o-o-ould li-i-i-i-i-ike a bur-r-r-r-r-rito, por fa-vor".

he’s tight dub. he’d buy you a beer.

I know, wwbd, but I intentionally spell celebrity names wrong so the stupid link advertisements don’t come up on them.

More like Mr. Mi-NO-gi….sorry sorry, I watched Bad Boys over Thanksgiving and I still have Will Smith and Martin Lawrence whispering into my ears. It’s like non-threatning black male stereo(NTBMS). There are only a few channels I pick up. Mainly Tyler Perry, Martin Lawrence, Will Smith, Cuba Gooding Jr, and Nick Cannon. It’s not that I’m racist it’s just I’m really scared of most black men, because they’re criminals. Oh Mr. Mi-NO-He-didn!

Mmmphh-frrr-huhh-mpph oh bother

Patton Oswalt > Bruce Greenwood

Can you believe it!? Who would have thought that they make a pair of "OshKosh Bgosh" jeans that I, a full grown, manly male, could fit into! Yeah yeah, it only fits because I was turning them into makeshift assless chaps, but still. I fit in Jeans!

nom – i’m so proud!

nom, did you know that you can do the same thing with a 7-year-old’s body…i mean, you have to do some hacking and slashing, but "basically" youcan fit!

um…well now that i’m all alone, my last comment comes off as pretty fucking creepy.

<cricket chirping>

Jackie Chan tried to sodomize me.

Dick.

*owl noise* who-o-o-o-o-o who-o-o-o-o-o-o

hey crapbasket, sure it creepy around here, huh?

Of course, rumors about the Smiths being involved in Karate Kid from awhile back, what is Morrissey gonna cry, moan and bitch his way through the tournament?

I hope Micheal Bay directs the remake of Karate Kid with Will Smith’s brood in this movie.  Because unlike me, he understands the black psyche.  I mean I love chicken and waffles…but together? That’s like crazy. Right?

bex – That made my head hurt; It made me think about Morrissey, and the cure, and Robert Smith, who did that South Park where he fought the giant robot Barbara Striesand, so I thought about Jews, and then my avi Ninjew, and that he looks like he’s taking a shit on a palestinian street, then I remembered I had to shit, and while grunting one out, I got a headache.

Life is wierd.

its the circle of life brapbasket, it is the circle of life

spirit of chris benoits son, first, might I add that your name coupled with that avatar is pure fuckn gold. now if you would please just start posting as an eleven year old who’s basically seen his father drink and beat his mother all the while idolizing him then itd be perfect. please!

chodin – your father seems like a cool dude, i would let him buy me a beer but as long as i can teach him some cuss words in spanish and then have him practice at the mexicans that pass out porn flyers on the street (wait is that only a vegas thing?).

Mr. Bean With a Turkey On His Head is my new favorite username. 

lance, you’re fuckn drunk. you don’t know what you’re talking about, clearly SoCBS takes that cake.

dubbles: I’ve been to Vegas once, when I was 14 and with my dad and stepmom. And mexicans were handing me spank material while I strolled with my folks. Oh, and I remember alot of "Asian" people getting them handed and they cheesed this big corny shiney smile. Wherever I was going with this.

I don’t get how there’s all kinds of "off limits" vibe in certain areas, but then "Spirit of Chris Benoit’s son" is fairgame and un-out-of-bounds. Unabounded? I’m just saying, either everything should be cool, or none of it is. Etc.

nommy, the frequency has clearly tripled since then. there are literally packs of these actual smut peddlers. 5 to each pack and around 3-5 packs per block. after a while you just get used to them. although, i wouldnt mind being one, they get paid around 12/hour to just stand there. not bad.

The scouts were right about Sean Taylor, BTW, he never was a very effective defender against the shotgun.

(I so fucking wish I could take credit for that joke.) 

Its OK Fek’ its really not that good anyway.

Everytime I glance at the Title of this post, I automatically think it’s some kind of shout out to Fek’lhr. Or maybe about him. Like telling the world what that freak did.

Okay, get this……. 

Yeah, luch is right. He was shot with a bullet, not a shotgun shell. Funny that shit up.

Yeah, but quarterbacks run offense from "the shotgun", and he, being a defensive player…aww fuck it.