July 4th Fireworks Displays are THE Ideal Time to Shoot a Mutherfucker

In what has become a yearly tradition on par with barbecues, flag-waving and drunkenness, multiple people were shot in Chicago during the July 4th fireworks displays. Norman Rockwell made famous this most American tradition in his famous painting "Poppin' a Cap in Some Fool on Independence Day". If you are filling some asshole full of lead for having walked through "your corner" at some time outside of a loud display of powder-driven explosions, then you sir are a fucking moron. When the skies are filled with the sounds and the sights of celebration of the birth of our great nation, who is going to notice the sound and the sight of you ending some mutherfucker's life?

The True Measure of the Advancement of a Civilization is in the Yogurt it Invents to Make Women Take a Dump

Much like the Mayans and their calendar or the Egyptians and their hieroglyphs, our American civilization is sure to be remembered most throughout history by our invention of bacteria-infused yogurt that makes chicks shit. Rather than waste precious minutes each day consuming fruits and vegetables to regulate digestion-as hundreds of thousands of years of evolution has turned into a flawless process-women can now eat one serving of a scientifically engineered dairy substance that will have them racing for the toilet a mere 2 weeks after their initial intake. What sane person would eat 5 servings of fruits and vegetables today and wait to take a normal dump two days later when they could solve their constipation problems by eating pseudo-dairy substance today and every day for the next 13 days with the promise of a glorious dump on day 15? Its a no-brainer. The Charlie Mansons, David Berkowitzs, Ted Kaczynskis and Lindsay Lohan's of the world can keep their poop-by-plants method, the rational among us are taking yogurt shits thank you very much. If Jamie Lee is on the shit-by-cultured-milk plan, then please tell me why the fuck aren't you? The people at the U.S. Apple Association must have complete and utter mouth-breathers on the payroll in Marketing. Activia has Jamie Lee hawking utter nonsense in the form of turd-inducing yogurt while the Apple Association has nada on the natural product. How fucking hard can this be? I'll give them their new ad campaign for free: Steven Baldwin as spokesman for "Eat 3 Apples Today, Take Two Dumps Tomorrow". Done and done. If you start eating two apples per day today whilst your friend starts the Activia Challenge on the same day, I guarangoddamntee you that you can take a shit right in her chevy chase long before her two weeks kick in.

Chinese Mathematician Develops Algorithm Which Computes How Much Ass Guys in Affliction Shirts Kick

Dr. Ji Yan Yhi PHD, of the University of Shanghai, published his findings this week after 2 years of exhaustive research and running advanced algorithmic calculations through his computer program. The findings were published in an obscure mathematical journal, however once astute readers realized how many ass-kickings could be averted globally the equation quickly made its way to news outlets across the globe.

Dr. Yhi thought he was prepared to release what he considered a viable equation last Spring. However, while plugging tester variables his teacher's assistants postulated into some regression analysis models to disprove them, he was shocked to find the following: There is undeniable evidence (99.9% statistical probability) that certain "accelerator variables" exist which can significantly alter the output of ass-kicking from a dude wearing the Affliction shirt. To simplify and save space, for the duration of this article ASW (Affliction Shirt Wearer) will be used to refer to the person who is about to kick your fucking ass.

The variables discovered in the past year of research which are now fixtures in Dr. Yhi's algorithm include the following:

a: where a = how much the ASW bench-presses

b: where b = number of fucking Jager-Bombs ASW has consumed that day

c: where c = number of dudes in ASW's entourage that can intervene should actual altercation ensue

c1: where c1 = number of shots consumed by c

k: where k = number of tattoos visible

x: where x = how overweight ASW is

y: where y = number of UFC fights ASW has watched on TV

z: where z = how many inches less than 6 ASW's penis is

Dr. Yhi was most surprised to discover that actual training in mixed martial arts is completely statistically insignificant.

To say that Dr. Yhi's findings will reduce the level of pub and street violence globally is to make a vast understatement. Dr. Yhi's name is already being circulated as the front-runner to win the Nobel Prize in Applied Mathematics for 2010. The algorithm is as follows:

a + b ((k - x)2) / y * z ((c1 - c)(b + x)) - x/k + zy2 = What the fuck are you lookin' at, Mutherfucker?!?!

Tornadoes Are Pussies

You are such a fucking badass dude! You dominated that cornfield with no farmers in it. Now you are about to obliterate that road no one is driving on. And yes, we all know about the trailer park you just wiped out. Seriously dude, trailers don't even have foundations. I saw some drunk frat guys push one over once. Call me when you demolish a tall concrete building. This nickel-and-dime shit in the Plains States is for fairies. I never see a tornado-related headline which reads "Tornado Fucking Dominates Camp Lejeune as Marines Fire Guns in Wrong Direction and Shit Their Pants". You are the Fredo of the natural disaster family. Other disasters have kick-ass headlines like "Earthquake Kills 300,000 Haitians" or "Tsunami-Related Deaths in Indonesia Top 200,000" or the front page of the Pompeii Chronicle which read "Who Pissed Fucking Poseidon Off?". If you went to natural disaster prison you would be Hurricane, Tsunami and Earthquake's bitch. Tsunami would make you get a set of tits tattooed on your back and Hurricane would turn you out to the Typhoons for a carton of Kools. You've got that piece of straw through an oak tree trick down, but its nothing more than a card trick when you consider that other disasters are just killing the fuck out of people and not apologizing for shit. Shit or get off the pot already.

Dudes Who Talk Non-Chalant On Their Cell Phones On Public Transit About Last Night's Hook-Up Suck

Let me get this straight: It is 7:42 a.m. on a Friday morning. 97% of the people are miserable because they are headed to work (and contrary to modern corporate theory denim does not in any way alleviate work misery). It is quiet and most people are reading something. You are on your cell phone. You are telling Your Boy about how you went out for happy hour last night, met some chick named Kelly, crushed 7 of the Bombs Du Juor at the totally chill lounge they just opened next to your building, went with Kelly and her fat friend Kate for late night sushi and crushed sake, then took Kelly back to your place and banged out. You totally just kicked her out of your place 47 minutes ago. You are telling Your Boy about all of this in a very nonchalant tone as though you can't even be bothered. Seriously dude, fuck you. Need I remind you that you JUST GOT FUCKING LAID, on a Thursday night no less. That's a school night Cheese. I watched The Office and went to bed at 9:55; you banged the fuck out. Show some goddamn enthusiasm. It isn't like you got loaded, ate 2 gyros, pissed yourself and woke up on the bathroom floor asshole......you showed some trollop who's fucking boss, son! Stand up. Pace up and down the aisle of the bus. Shout out the details to Your Boy on the cell. Point your fucking finger in chick's faces. Grab your cod piece. I want to know:

-Did you go bareback?

-Did she steam your ham?

-Butt play?

-Pearl necklace?

-Did your roommates wake up pissed off?

-You totally gonna hit that shit again?

-Wad up a $20 and throw it at her as she left your room and say "Get a cab"?

-Where are you and Your Boy meeting up to pound Bombs and slay ass tonight?

Seriously brah, you nail some bitch shut on a week night don't act like you've been there before, rather tell 'em bout it, Chad Ochocinco-style. You are goddamned well awesome, act accordingly.

Swedish Scientists Prove American Men Who Love Golf and Say Soccer is Boring Also Masturbate to Anime Porn

Guys like this fucking suck, and now we have irrefutable, hard Norwegian science to back it up. I'm not here to argue whether or not soccer is boring or exciting, macho or pussy. I'm here to tell you why your fat nerdy ass sucks. The upper echelon of golf's elite is crushing it in life and only a fucktard would deny that. They roll bank, they land hot wives (as Phil Mickelson's man-tits prove beyond a reasonable doubt), they crush skenk-ass white pussy while their 9.9 wife raises their Norblasian kids back home. But athletes they most assuredly are not. They are the best of the best in a country club parlor game that happens to be played outdoors. Golf has mass appeal because literally any asshat with disposable income can play it, and play it well. No great athlete chooses golf. Great athletes play golf when they are too old to be great athletes anymore, but they don't choose it in high school. If Tiger Woods could throw a football and run a 4.32 40, he'd be denying knowledge of a shooting outside a strip club alongside Michael Vick this very night. If you are sporting a rager right now in anticipation of waking up Saturday morning, pulling a horizontal-striped polo over your disgusting fat-body gut, tucking it into some pleated khaki shorts and heading out to the links to argue with your boyz all day about who can get up-and-down in 2 AND you tell people how boring and gay soccer is...you're a Class 1AA Douche Bag. If you want to escape your miserable domestic responsibilities for a few hours each weekend, then rock the fuck on. But don't have the marbles to call a sport where blazing fast athletes with 0.002% body fat run a controlled sprint and kick something for 90 straight minutes boring. You love watching dudes walk slowly through a meadow following a small ball that they periodically hit with a stick while a Sherpa carries their shit for them and a comatose old white guy whispers about the majesty of it all, yet call soccer boring. Sure soccer players take dives and fake injuries which is pretty pansyfied, but at least they don't throw a hissy-fucking-fit every time someone in the crowd has the audacity to snap a picture or sneeze. You should absolutely continue to impress that cute intern in marketing with stories of how long you hit your drives and the quantity of beer you drink on the course, but don't malign soccer just because you were too fat and uncoordinated to play.

Missing White Kids Are All the Rage Right Now

Missing/Kidnapped/Abducted-to-join-one-man-religious-sex-cult white children are so fucking hot right now you could fry an egg on their blond hair. If you are under the age of 14, look like Casper, have a trendy name like Madison or Blake and go missing, you are going to be pop-pop-poppin! A champagne supernova of media adulation will light the skies for weeks and a swirling vortex will appear in cyberspace. Matt Lauer will have every white trash relative you've ever seen passed out beneath your 41 year old grandma's Thanksgiving Day dinner table on the Today Show showing off their intellect. The same relative that 96 hours ago threw the Hefty bag containing your remains into a shallow grave next to the Chattahoochee River is sobbing cheap vodka tears into a podium mic begging the fictitious captors to bring you home. White women aged 25-65 are going to speculate their tits off about your fate. Ride the lightning Emma, you're a fucking star!

Now if you go missing and you are a black kid, ummmm, not so much. If anyone finds you it is likely the result of pure dumb luck. Good Morning America will fly correspondents to Oregon to raise the alert on behalf of any honky, but their frequent flier miles exclude inner-city D.C. You'll be lucky if you get a black-and-white Xerox posted on the front door of the Check Exchange.

And worse yet, if little Emilio Conchita Maribella Rodriguez is stolen from his South Bronx apartment by El Chupacabra....lets just say don't make any plans for the "Where Are They Now" episode of Dateline in 10 years. If you think Meredith Vieira is showing up in your barrio to munch churros from a bicycle cart and interview your abuela, well, lo siento amigo. You'd better hope one of those wrestlers in a shiny unitard and mask shows up and gives your kidnappers a proper pile-driver.