Sunday, December 26, 2010


1. Who is Mika Pepe?

some sexy bitch

2. Where are you from?

the whom 

3. Is it wrong to fuck your clone?

if he says no...then maybe.

4. Who's dick is bigger a full grown gorilla or Cameron?


5. Who's dick is bigger Kit Lyons or Cameron Lyons?

they are the same size

6. Why does your dad make that face when he cums?

cuz he knows I'm about to cum

7. Weed or Pills?

weed pills

8. What did you do with the body?

let it fuck me for a while then set it free

9. What is that smell?


10. Any questions?


Winner of best blog of 2010.

 Just kidding. Morgan's wins, right?

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

You god damn right it don't

Get your quarters out!!!! Ben and Danny you know whats up.

I want to gamble in the New Year.  Maybe, a couple games of fuck your neighbor?

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Ben I found our number one holiday moment

Ben and I are putting together a holiday count down for sidereel. Well I don't know if this will fly, but this is the funniest thing ever.
did you fuck my mom? from a on Vimeo.

Friday, December 10, 2010

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Monday, December 6, 2010

Saturday, December 4, 2010

Gordon is real good, huh?

turn turn turn from lee bender on Vimeo.
one more mile from lee bender on Vimeo.

 Everyone is thinking it, but i'm saying it! Gordon has the best blog going right now. Look at this photo of Gordon at 13. Gordon shaved twice a day and still had 5 o clock shadow. Real man shit.

I wish I still lived with Gordon. You know you do too. I know Gordon is watching Forensic Files somewhere thinking "DUDE! I wish Rosser still lived with us." Don't worry Gordo, Pork and Sandy I'm coming home soon. HELLA MEGA KEGA will rage again. Ethan we're getting the band back together.

Friday, December 3, 2010

I don't know if you remember...

a couple years ago...those guys Justice with their song D.A.N.C.E.? Well, (spoiler alert) this is the next that.

Cassius, I Love you so from WE ARE FROM L.A on Vimeo.

Friday, November 26, 2010

Ben and Billy Watch the Walking Dead Episode 1

                                        Stayed tuned for more videos coming soon.......

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

The saga continues....


Sunday, November 21, 2010


introduce me to your friends

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Billy did it. I've done it. Now weblog about it...

When working at a "fine wine store"/liquor barn one tends to have different job requirements than most 9 to 5ers. i.e. Must be able to lift 40 lbs. repeatedly. Must drink wine, booze and beer at all hours of the day. And of course, must be willing to clean up trails of human shit left in your store. Most of our clients are 9 to 5ers just trying to enjoy the 5 to 9. But every once in a while we get a different kind of customer. A customer that has lost it. It: whatever it was that made them want to keep going. They have given up and are trying to kill themselves. A slow suicide by grain alcohol. Sure it's sad, but you cannot concern yourself with their issues. There's no time for that, when the liquor can help them out so much quicker. And so instead without making eye contact you try to get them out of the store as fast as you can, but you can't help but wonder what the fuck that smell is, but you don't have to think at all because for some reason you already know. That shit smells like death.

Monday, November 15, 2010


I have spent the last 20 minutes trying to write something clever. I can't. I don't believe I ever will be able to again. I realize anything I write will fail in comparison to what I just read. I recommend if you don't want to feel stupid, insecure, boring, fat, ugly and what ever the opposite of well-endowed is don't click on this link:

 I just read the Prince post.  I didn't know that anything could make me like Prince anymore than I already do. I was dead wrong. It is the best blog I have ever read. Just quit your blog and read this BLOG.

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Mikey Grande on Mike "The Situation" Sorrentino

The Situation came and did a bottle signing at my work, I wasn't there, I was eating with Riley at camron's wedding. When I got back I asked Mikey Grande what he thought of "the sitch."

Mikey Grande:

"Fuck that guy. I'm Mike the Distraction. I don't sign bottles, I Drink them."

 Enough Said

Friday, November 12, 2010

Monday, November 8, 2010

Fuck The Dark Tower, Meet Me at The Human Tower seems like a lot more fun. Just sayin'

Casteller from Mike Randolph on Vimeo.

Kevtron meet me at the Dark Tower

I just started Book IV Wizard and Glass. 

Robert Browning's Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came (1855)
My first thought was, he lied in every word,
That hoary cripple, with malicious eye
Askance to watch the workings of his lie
On mine, and mouth scarce able to afford
Suppression of the glee, that pursed and scored
Its edge, at one more victim gained thereby.

What else should he be set for, with his staff?
What, save to waylay with his lies, ensnare
All travellers who might find him posted there,
And ask the road? I guessed what skull-like laugh
Would break, what crutch 'gin write my epitaph
For pastime in the dusty thoroughfare.

If at his counsel I should turn aside
Into that ominous tract which, all agree,
Hides the Dark Tower. Yet acquiescingly
I did turn as he pointed, neither pride
Now hope rekindling at the end descried,
So much as gladness that some end might be.

For, what with my whole world-wide wandering,
What with my search drawn out through years, my hope
Dwindled into a ghost not fit to cope
With that obstreperous joy success would bring,
I hardly tried now to rebuke the spring
My heart made, finding failure in its scope.

As when a sick man very near to death
Seems dead indeed, and feels begin and end
The tears and takes the farewell of each friend,
And hears one bit the other go, draw breath
Freelier outside, ('since all is o'er,' he saith
And the blow fallen no grieving can amend;')

When some discuss if near the other graves
be room enough for this, and when a day
Suits best for carrying the corpse away,
With care about the banners, scarves and staves
And still the man hears all, and only craves
He may not shame such tender love and stay.

Thus, I had so long suffered in this quest,
Heard failure prophesied so oft, been writ
So many times among 'The Band' to wit,
The knights who to the Dark Tower's search addressed
Their steps - that just to fail as they, seemed best,
And all the doubt was now - should I be fit?

So, quiet as despair I turned from him,
That hateful cripple, out of his highway
Into the path he pointed. All the day
Had been a dreary one at best, and dim
Was settling to its close, yet shot one grim
Red leer to see the plain catch its estray.

For mark! No sooner was I fairly found
Pledged to the plain, after a pace or two,
Than, pausing to throw backwards a last view
O'er the safe road, 'twas gone; grey plain all round;
Nothing but plain to the horizon's bound.
I might go on, naught else remained to do.

So on I went. I think I never saw
Such starved ignoble nature; nothing throve:
For flowers - as well expect a cedar grove!
But cockle, spurge, according to their law
Might propagate their kind with none to awe,
You'd think; a burr had been a treasure trove.

No! penury, inertness and grimace,
In some strange sort, were the land's portion. 'See
Or shut your eyes,' said Nature peevishly,
It nothing skills: I cannot help my case:
'Tis the Last Judgement's fire must cure this place
Calcine its clods and set my prisoners free.'

If there pushed any ragged thistle-stalk
Above its mates, the head was chopped, the bents
Were jealous else. What made those holes and rents
In the dock's harsh swarth leaves, bruised as to baulk
All hope of greenness? Tis a brute must walk
Pashing their life out, with a brute's intents.

As for the grass, it grew as scant as hair
In leprosy; thin dry blades pricked the mud
Which underneath looked kneaded up with blood.
One stiff blind horse, his every bone a-stare,
Stood stupified, however he came there:
Thrust out past service from the devil's stud!

Alive? he might be dead for aught I knew,
With that red gaunt and colloped neck a-strain.
And shut eyes underneath the rusty mane;
Seldom went such grotesqueness with such woe;
I never saw a brute I hated so;
He must be wicked to deserve such pain.

I shut my eyes and turned them on my heart,
As a man calls for wine before he fights,
I asked one draught of earlier, happier sights,
Ere fitly I could hope to play my part.
Think first, fight afterwards, the soldier's art:
One taste of the old time sets all to rights.

Not it! I fancied Cuthbert's reddening face
Beneath its garniture of curly gold,
Dear fellow, till I almost felt him fold
An arm to mine to fix me to the place,
The way he used. Alas, one night's disgrace!
Out went my heart's new fire and left it cold.

Giles then, the soul of honour - there he stands
Frank as ten years ago when knighted first,
What honest man should dare (he said) he durst.
Good - but the scene shifts - faugh! what hangman hands
Pin to his breast a parchment? His own bands
Read it. Poor traitor, spit upon and curst!

Better this present than a past like that:
Back therefore to my darkening path again!
No sound, no sight as far as eye could strain.
Will the night send a howlet or a bat?
I asked: when something on the dismal flat
Came to arrest my thoughts and change their train.

A sudden little river crossed my path
As unexpected as a serpent comes.
No sluggish tide congenial to the glooms;
This, as it frothed by, might have been a bath
For the fiend's glowing hoof - to see the wrath
Of its black eddy bespate with flakes and spumes.

So petty yet so spiteful! All along,
Low scrubby alders kneeled down over it;
Drenched willows flung them headlong in a fit
Of mute despair, a suicidal throng:
The river which had done them all the wrong,
Whate'er that was, rolled by, deterred no whit.

Which, while I forded - good saints, how I feared
To set my foot upon a dead man's cheek,
Each step, of feel the spear I thrust to seek
For hollows, tangled in his hair or beard!
- It may have been a water-rat I speared,
But, ugh! it sounded like a baby's shriek.

Glad was I when I reached the other bank.
Now for a better country. Vain presage!
Who were the strugglers, what war did they wage,
Whose savage trample thus could pad the dank
soil to a plash? Toads in a poisoned tank
Or wild cats in a red-hot iron cage -

The fight must so have seemed in that fell cirque,
What penned them there, with all the plain to choose?
No footprint leading to that horrid mews,
None out of it. Mad brewage set to work
Their brains, no doubt, like galley-slaves the Turk
Pits for his pastime, Christians against Jews.

And more than that - a furlong on - why, there!
What bad use was that engine for, that wheel,
Or brake, not wheel - that harrow fit to reel
Men's bodies out like silk? With all the air
Of Tophet's tool, on earth left unaware
Or brought to sharpen its rusty teeth of steel.

Then came a bit of stubbed ground, once a wood,
Next a marsh it would seem, and now mere earth
Desperate and done with; (so a fool finds mirth,
Makes a thing and then mars it, till his mood
Changes and off he goes!) within a rood -
Bog, clay and rubble, sand, and stark black dearth.

Now blotches rankling, coloured gay and grim,
Now patches where some leanness of the soil's
Broke into moss, or substances like boils;
Then came some palsied oak, a cleft in him
Like a distorted mouth that splits its rim
Gaping at death, and dies while it recoils.

And just as far as ever from the end!
Naught in the distance but the evening, naught
To point my footstep further! At the thought,
A great black bird, Apollyon's bosom friend,
Sailed past, not best his wide wing dragon-penned
That brushed my cap - perchance the guide I sought.

For, looking up, aware I somehow grew,
'Spite of the dusk, the plain had given place
All round to mountains - with such name to grace
Mere ugly heights and heaps now stolen in view.
How thus they had surprised me - solve it, you!
How to get from them was no clearer case.

Yet half I seemed to recognise some trick
Of mischief happened to me, God knows when -
In a bad dream perhaps. Here ended, then
Progress this way. When, in the very nick
Of giving up, one time more, came a click
As when a trap shuts - you're inside the den.

Burningly it came on me all at once,
This was the place! those two hills on the right,
Crouched like two bulls locked horn in horn in fight;
While to the left a tall scalped mountain ... Dunce,
Dotard, a-dozing at the very nonce,
After a life spent training for the sight!

What in the midst lay but the Tower itself?
The round squat turret, blind as the fool's heart,
Built of brown stone, without a counterpart
In the whole world. The tempest's mocking elf
Points to the shipman thus the unseen shelf
He strikes on, only when the timbers start.

Not see? because of night perhaps? - why day
Came back again for that! before it left
The dying sunset kindled through a cleft:
The hills, like giants at a hunting, lay,
Chin upon hand, to see the game at bay, -
'Now stab and end the creature - to the heft!'

Not hear? When noise was everywhere! it tolled
Increasing like a bell. Names in my ears
Of all the lost adventurers, my peers -
How such a one was strong, and such was bold,
And such was fortunate, yet each of old
Lost, lost! one moment knelled the woe of years.

There they stood, ranged along the hillsides, met
To view the last of me, a living frame
For one more picture! In a sheet of flame
I saw them and I knew them all. And yet
Dauntless the slug-horn to my lips I set,
And blew. 'Childe Roland to the Dark Tower came.'

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Z.L.I.A.D. 5.0

Zach Lyons is a dick 5.0!!!!!!

Thursday, October 28, 2010

The fun seems to never stop

I have entered the 5th dimension of fun. I can't go to deep into Cameron's bachelor party, but I did wake up this morning to Sterling saying "Why is Billy not wearing pants?" Sterling by the way king of the party, he got me so siked.

Today, got nice all day, rode bikes, played laser tag with my brother and now Zach and I are drinking beers and watching Deuce Bigalow. If that is not enough for you Zach has 3 lava lamps going and the dead playing in the background.

I am also, pretty fucking excited to black out with this guy on Saturday night.

It is gonna be so fun.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

tomorrow night

Dan Dan

This is for you....... 
When I get back we gotta get drunk, go camping, ride our bikes to the beach and smoosh.

Monday, October 25, 2010

Saturday, October 23, 2010


The man who cleans The Jug Shop is named Stinky.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Johnny got his motherfucking gun and it made me puke.

I loved it! What is not to like about a book that is narrated by someone with no legs, no arms. no ears, no mouth, no nose?

"He shot up through cool waters wondering whether he'd ever make the surface or not. That was a lot of guff about people sinking three times and then drowning. He'd been rising and sinking for days weeks months who could tell? But he hadn't drowned. As he came to the surface each time he fainted into reality and as he went down again he fainted into nothingness. Long slow faints all of them while he struggled for air and life. He was fighting too hard and he knew it. A man can't fight always. If he's drowning or suffocating he's got to be smart and hold back some of his strength for the last the final the death struggle.

He lay back quietly because he was no fool. If you lie back you can float. He used to float a lot when he was a kid. He knew how to do it. His last strength going into that fight when all he had to do was float. What a fool.

They were working on him. It took him a little while to understand this because he couldn't hear them. Then he remembered that he was deaf. It was funny to lie there and have people in the room who were touching you watching you doctoring you and yet not within hearing distance. The bandages were still all over his head so he couldn't see them either. He only knew that way out there in the darkness beyond the reach of his ears people were working over him and trying to help him.

They were taking part of his bandages off. He could feel the coolness the sudden drying of sweat on his left side. They were working on his arm. He felt the pinch of a sharp little instrument grabbing something and getting a bit of his skin with each grab. He didn't jump. He simply lay there because he had to save his strength. He tried to figure out why they were pinching him. After each pinch there was a little pull in the flesh of his upper arm and an unpleasant point of heat like friction. The pulling kept on in short little jerks with his skin getting hot each time. It hurt. He wished they'd stop. It itched. He wished they'd scratch him.

He froze all over stiff and rigid like a dead cat. There was something wrong about this pricking and pulling and friction heat. He could feel the things they were doing to his arm and yet he couldn't rightly feel his arm at all. It was like he felt inside his arm. It was like he felt through the end of his arm. The nearest thing he could think of to the end of his arm was the heel of his hand. But the heel of his hand the end of his arm was high high high as his shoulder.

Jesus Christ they'd cut his left arm off.

They'd cut it right off at the shoulder he could feel it plain now.

Oh my god why did they do a thing like that to him?

They couldn't do it the dirty bastards they couldn't do it. They had to have a paper signed or something. It was the law. You can't just go out and cut a man's arm off without asking him without getting permission because a man's arm is his own and he needs it. Oh Jesus I have to work with that arm why did you cut it off? Why did you cut my arm off answer me why did you cut my arm off? Why did you why did you why did you?

He went down into the water again and fought and fought and then came up with his belly jumping and his throat aching. And all the time that he was under the water fighting with only one arm to get back he was having conversation with himself about how this thing couldn't possibly happen to him only it hadSo they cut myarm off. How am I going to work now? They don't think of that. They don't think of anything but doing it their own way. Just another guy with a hole in his arm let's cut it off what do you say boys? Sure cut the guy's arm off. It takes a lot of work and a lot of money to fix up a guy's arm. This is a war and war is hell and what the hell and so to hell with it. Come on boys watch this. Pretty slick hey? He's down in bed and can't say anything and it's his tough luck and we're tired and this is a stinking war anyhow so let's cut the damn thing off and be done with it.

My arm. My arm they've cut my arm off. See that stump there? That used to be my arm. Oh sure I had an arm I was born with one I was normal just I like you and I could hear and I had a left arm like I anybody. But what do you think of those lazy bastards cutting it off?

How's that

I can't hear either. I can't hear. Write it down. Put it on a piece of paper. I can read all right. But I can't hear. Put it down on a piece of paper and hand the paper to my right arm because I have no left arm.

My left arm. I wonder what they've done with it. When you cut a man's arm off you have to do something with it. You can't just leave it Iying around. Do you send it to hospitals so guys can pick it to pieces and see how an arm works? Do you wrap it up in an old newspaper and throw it onto the junk heap? Do you bury it? After all it's part of a man a very important part of a man and it should be treated respectfully. Do you take it out and bury it and say a little prayer? You should because it's human flesh and it died young and it deserves a good sendoff."

Sunday, October 17, 2010

european commercials part 1

Kids and Chlamydia are running wild in Europe right now.

Friday, October 15, 2010

Thursday, October 14, 2010

this also happened

annie misses you
what about wilmer
eh not really
me either
do you live in san fran?
...with them :)
i wanna come!
get dorrie to drive you in her prius
bring rhum punches
yes will do
will you guys pleaseee come home for thanksgiving?
come onnn
x mas
have xmas with us duh
apples to apples
:) :) :)
takin wilms lil vw back to chucktown

I just crushed the Laufman Facebook chat game. Chatting with 2 of my favorite Laufman's at once.

this just happened

Hello Laufman
whats crackin?
not a damn thing
nice.. are you in the san fran with wilmer?
he doesn't leave my side
did you here dorothy copied him and got herself a prius//
yeah dorothey
is on that save the earth game
when are you joining a gang
isn't that people your age do?
no i dont think so.
well your loss