A job I couldn't do...

Life is coming at me very fast. I teeter on the edge of graduation, with only six months left before I am stripped of my last claims to irresponsibility. So I am constantly on craigslist entertaining the thought of employment, but there are usually three problems.

1) I am not qualified enough for the job

2) Motherfuckers want you to work for nothing (working for college credit really means "come be my slave")

3) The job is just not for me...at all...ever

I ran into a post for a job that defines problem number three.

Now, the desperation of expanding my resume and clearing my credit card debt has me looking in all the crevises of job sites under the "writing/editing" section. The tag line for this job post was "Write Video Narratives for Adult Online Retail Website." I figured, "Hey, I've had sex, I can get down with some porn, if it pays well, why the hell not...I can get these fucking Wells Fargo vultures off my back, too." But ... well, here is the ad (or you can scroll down if it is outdated):

http://losangeles.craigslist.org/lac/wri/471139022.html

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Write Video Narratives for Adult Online Retail Website

Reply to: job-471139022@craigslist.org
Date: 2007-11-06, 5:24PM PST


Gay Adult video retail website is seeking an in home writer to watch gay porn videos online and write 500 to 1000 word descriptions / narrative about the videos they watched. We are looking for people that can watch videos objectively across 30 or so gay porn niches and give an unbiased, honest review / description / narrative of the video without injecting personal feelings of like or dislike of the genre into the subject matter. Output should be at least 30 videos watched / narratives written per month. Watch free gay porn online and get paid to write about it too! Contact us with a sample of your writing. We will then give you online access to watch a video and expect an audition piece to be written before we make our decision on awarding these contracts. If you like to write and like to watch gay porn, this extra income job is just perfect for you! Contact us now and let's get started.


Location: Open
Compensation: Free Online Video Account and Per Narrative Fee
Telecommuting is ok.
This is a contract job.
OK to highlight this job opening for persons with disabilities
Principals only. Recruiters, please don't contact this job poster.
Please, no phone calls about this job!
Please do not contact job poster about other services, products or commercial interests.

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Imagine trying to do this job. The mental strain it would have on you, be it you are gay or straight. If you are a gay man, assuming you aren't a prude gay man, how are you going to make it through 30 videos a month without your dick chaffing from the inevitable masturbation-a-thon you will go through during said month? And after you get off, how are you even going to make it through the rest of the scene, let alone the rest of the video, let alone the rest of the 29 other videos, let alone write 500-1000 fucking words on essentially the same thing, only varying in degrees of debauchery? If you make it half-way, the mental images will engulf your everyday life and then you can't close your eyes without seeing a penis and shuttering. Shit, you might even turn straight.

If you are a straight male, the reprecussion hits in a different way. First of all, you won't make it all the way unless financial ruin looms on the horizons, threatening to take what little money you have left that is allocated toward rent, top ramen and weed. But lets say you tell yourself you are strong and can make it through, and you do. Then one day when your are trying to have sex with a girl and can't sustain a boner, guess where your mind is gonna turn to for assistance--the 30 niches of gay porn you watched and reviewed to pay your bills. Shit, you might even turn gay.

Bad Street Jerkers

So, this kid I can only identify as Sweet, as is the only part of his or her Youtube ID that doesn't consist of numbers, found some extremely disturbing move in the extremely bad videogame "Bad Street Brawlers." When I asked Sweet how did he or she find this out, the reply was, "One of my friends who likes old school nintendo games stated something about something really awkward looking in this game that had to do with this move, so I tried it out and this was the result."

P.S. That is a handjob you are seeing.

Uhm...I made a mix

It is a lot of club music and shit like that. I don't know who even reads this blog anymore. I am not sure if anyone did in the first place. Anyway, here it is. I hope someone peeps it. Feedback is appreciated, although this mix woulda been a lot more timely if it was made earlier this year.

I need drink tickets mix (I didn't know what else to call it)

Tracklist:

Fannypack - Theme from Frank Jugga
Radioclit feat. TTC, Ears, Skepta & Tinchy Stryder - Mature Macho Machine
The Pack - Candy
Telex - Diskow Moskow
Ms. Thing and Switch - Love Guide
Jungle Brothers - I'll House You
No Face - I'll Hump You
The Rapture - W.A.Y.U.H. (DFA Rmx)
Mylo - Drop The Pressure
Yo Majesty! - Club Action
Robin Thicke - Cocaine
Chuck Brown - Chuck Baby (Scottie B mix)
Pase Rock feat. Santogold, Spank Rock and Holiday Thug - Lindsay Lohan's Revenge
DJ Blaqstarr - Superstarr
Buraka Som Sistema - Yah
Zongamin - Bongo Song
I Cube feat. RZA - Can You Deal With That
Simian Mobile Disco - Hustler
Puff Daddy feat. Christina Aguilera - Tell Me (Switch Rmx)

Enjoy.

Stones Throw asked for it

"If you do the Bart, you're bad like Michael Jackson"

"Fuck a two-step, we in the club doin' the Bartman!"--Celph Titled

Sometime between 1st and 2nd grade, I was sitting in my grandparents living room, eating a Twinkie or a Flintstones push pop(my grandparents didn't fuck around with the snacks, fully stocked at all times) and I saw this for the first time. I heard that Michael Jackson wrote this.

Bart Simpson - Do The Bartman

No one making up stupid dances to bad raps could achieve such grandeur...except the Jamaicans. Anything dancehall touches makes half the planet go ape shit on the dancefloor, however, I digress.

Oh yeah, remember these, too? I saw some dude playing basketball with this shirt on back then.


Flea markets had so many variations of the Black Bart Simpson. In Amsterdam I saw some skinny Dutch guy wearing one with a Jamaican Bart with dreadlocks, complete with weed leaves in the background saying "Don't have a cow, mon." Shit was global.

This one is good too.

Edible Adventure Vol. 2

So, after giving our stomach lining a much needed break, we are Back.

Honestly, it was Blackula's work schedule that was hemming up the program something fierce. And what Marduk and Jaffe don't get is that, when I am not scouring the earth for youtube videos, I am doing shit like this:



And this shit is crazy demanding.

Anyway, our foray into sail country had our palettes aching for the revitalizing goodness of a US food staple, the hamburger. But a mere burger, while deserving of a salute and quick hum of the first 8 bars of the national anthem before consumption, does not suffice as an edible adventure...sad but true. Well, I take it back, one could make the arguement that eating something so high in colestoral and fat, or any beef product approved for consumption by the USDA is a risk worthy of acknowledgement, but not for the mulats. Heart problems, food poisoning, Mad Cow and E. coli are mere shrubs in the edible jungle through which we aim to carve a gastric path to victory and noteriety.

Naw I'm kidding. Those things are scary as hell and food poisoning is one of life's really mean jokes that only stupid people get (blackula's had food poisoning).

But Back to the lecture at hand (word to Snoop Dogg), what to add to a burger that has not been done by a resturaunt before, and/or will not be an immediate health risk. But the answer was simple. We chase the urban legend of burgers, the idea that many have talked about with the conviction of a Hari Krishna, but few have mustered up the courage to eat...

The Donut Burger (also known as: The Luther, The Luther Burger, Baseball's Best Burger, the world's unhealthiest burger, death on a plate, yummy)



However, unlike the canned escargot, we were very ill-equipped to prepare the illustrious donut burger at the lab, which is no lab at all, but Jaffe and Marduk's barron kitchen that remains in use solely for the preparation of cerial and microwavable food. So the half-black three had to take their bullshit antics on road. This alternative proved to be a much more hassle-free way to do what we set out to do.

The first stop was to obtain the pivotal ingredient that transforms semi-truck hamburger into Optimis Prime donut burger, the donuts themselves. So made a trip to Cupertino's wayward home for nocturnal poindexters and stoners alike, Donut Wheel.

We wantd to get three, but Marduk, being the monster that he is, insisted that we get a dozen donuts. After a couple mean fat jokes from Jaffe and I, which I apologized for later (not Jaffe though, he's a dickhead) and a couple of moderately funny cheap jokes from Marduzzle, we gave in and got the pink box with 6 glaze and whatever the Napping Champion wanted.



Our next destination was the real short-cut in our preparation, as we made a stop to Sunnyvale's hub for douchebag teenagers, foreigners, families, foreign families, and the occasional couple on their way to prom (you know you've seen them):



The thought was entertained that we should actually have the In-N-Out employees prepare our burgers, but this suggestion was made over a month prior, and by Jaffe, most likely while intoxicated, all good reasons why we did not ask when we got there.



So we ordered two cheeseburgers and a double double figuring that, if we need this to be done properly, we need to do this ourselves. Preparation went as follows.

Smile Big with donut and knife in hand



Cut the donut in half lengthwise so you have two pieces of donut like so



Scrape the cheese that melted to the hamburger buns onto the donut pieces



Take one piece of bread off the burger, then flip it onto one of the pieces of donut





Lick Fingers



Then replace the other piece of bread with the other half of the donut and wallah! You're ready to give your circulatory system the finger.



Or you can go Marduk's route and negate the whole pesky "cutting the donut in half" method. It really depends on your apetite, how messy you are willing to get, and whether or not god graced you with an extra-wide mouth.



So, after our structures of conflicting flavors were built to each patron's specifications, they were ate up quick.





The taste was suprisingly a lot better than I anticipated. It was an unforseen harmony of two worlds of intertwining, resulting in something that is, dare I say, beautiful...sorta like us. The sweetness of the glazed donut was not as overwhelming as expected and the saltiness of the burger was countered by this. The only thing I advise is that you skip the ketchup and get two cups of water, one for drinking and one for cleaning your fingers after you eat.

And yeah, Nykk ate that whole fucking Eiffel Tower



But after, Mardizzle had enough and was done deal with this whole edible adventure, hopefully Nykks early opt out of these things aren't an often occurance (he wanted to quit during the snail thing after the 2nd one, but maybe this time he was just full and I'm being an asshole). His fingers sufficed as a source of the great flavor he just experienced without eating another mountain of messiness.



We anticipated more attention being brought to us because of what we were doing in the resturant, but the couples and 12 party philipino family next to us could give a shit about what three laughing guys with a camera and a pink box were doing.

But that doesn't stop us. We are here to eat, fuck a crowd, that is what this is for--attention! Anyway, Kayn and I were not ready to call it quits and needed a second opinion, from our mouths once again. So...Round 2 SON! You know you wanna see the madness again.


Kayn Shaking (his hand) in anticipation, or maybe a "jerk-off" hand gesture, I forget which one.


Apparently, I do this weird lift-my-eye thing before I take a bite. Check it in both pictures of yo (that's "me" in spanish).


Kayn's a fuggin beast. He snarled after this was taken.

I'm back in LA, so I don't know exactly when another edible adventure will be. The next time I will be back up north is probably thanksgiving, and there is no fucking way I am going to kill my stomach during that time. I live off of various take-out foods and my mom can outcook anyone in anybody's family anyday, which beats the hell out of what I am going to be living off of for the next couple of months...So I am going to play it safe and not ruin that with eating some butterfly eggs (which might be what goes down next).

Brakura out!

Master Roshi Lives!

On a boring Saturday afternoon I was perusing the internet and came across evidence of a living cartoon character. All he needs is a wooden staff and a turtle shell on his back.

Bowie in Space.

All I need to say right?

"Fuck You Baltimore!"

Last night, Jesus, Jose and I (the blackulest one) went to San Francisco to take pictures for a zine we may or may not put out. We lack direction and planning. All that aside, the whole night, Jesus kept on saying "Bodymore, bodymore, bodymore." For those not in the know, that is a nickname for Baltimore that was derived from the city's widely believed notoriety for murder. Bodymore, Murderland.

Anyway, this video has nothing to do with that. But it takes place in Baltimore...sorta.

--Blackula Out

Triller is my Paborite

You know, this blog sorta started with us watching one of the greatest renditions of Michael Jackson's Thriller that was ever made. However, that title is now challenged by the 1,500 plus CPDRC inmates of the Cebu Provincial Detention and Rehabilitation Center in the Philippines; with what I consider to be the best use of tax dollars allocated to prisons.

Ipagdiwang!

Springfield, SON!

Marduk:


Blackula:


King Jaffe:

Images courtesy of The Simpsons' Movie website...you're welcome Matt Groening.

"(Pooh) got dat new dance fa yall..."

Supaman dat ho

Edible Adventure Vol. 1.5

When my uncle came to America from Panama, my mom took him out to a resturaunt. They both ordered fish, but when his didn't come with the head, he raised hell. They didn't give him a fish head, most resturaunts throw them away, but they did give him his meal for free.

All that aside, this is some good eating. Everyone in the world eats this in one way or another.

Blackest of Ulas flaps his wings to bed.

For the love of Bruce Willis

Call me crazy, but I don't think this is good parenting. This is at the 12:15am showing of Live Free or Die Hard. And if you can't really make out what is in the picture, it is a young mother Holding Her Baby. I looked around for any evidence of why this is her only resort, but after seeing the "Mom" shooting the shit with her 5 other friends sitting next to her, throwing popcorn and talking shit about other broads in the crowd, I attribute this to being young, dumb, and a big fan of die hard and raw sex.

Blackula departs.

Edible Adventure Vol. 1

There has been some major lagging on the posting as of late. It's really fucked up and we apologize to Forrest because, as of current, you are the only person who gives the slightest cunt hair of a care about what we are posting.

Our sluggish demeanor of moving at a snails pace regarding these slow posts aside, we did something a couple weeks ago that might make up for it, and also warrants all the snail references.

One day, while glued to his monitor, Marduk took a break from trolling porno sites to see if any of the girls went to our high school and combed the nether regions of ebay listings (we call it ebay's nuts). What Marduk discovered is that, among the vast number of people avoiding legitimate employment that make up ebay's selling community, a person is selling the most atrocious of products for a measly $5 American--canned escargot.

With the single digit figure burning a hole in Cleveland Indian #1's bank card, said can of snails was purchased and en-route from god knows where (probably Canada) to the reverse utopia that is the San Jose Gardens. What were our intentions for the contents of this boarder-crossing can? Exactly what God intended...consumption.



That's right. We planned to eat snails out of a can that was bought from ebay. A good idea in theory, as far as comedic purposes and bragging rights are concerned, but in application, it joins the ranks of the XFL, making Dead or Alive into a movie, and tossing salad as a bad idea (but without the repercussions of financial ruin, public ridicule, or human feces in your mouth).

Before the story continues, this guy or girl on ebay didn't just have a can of escargot taking up space in his or her Canadian kitchen cupboard, blocking room for more powdered gravy (they love that shit). This person has repeatedly posted the same brand of escargot every couple of weeks. Check it out, it might be up right now.

Being born and raised in the 2nd greatest country on Earth (we call it Urff), from taste to digestion, we, the mulats, are not physically equipped with whatever we be equipped with to handle the consumption of these canned mollusks. Likewise, none of the races we consist of have dietary obscurities that go past pulpo, Spanish for octopus. So we had to prepare with the following:



But further preparation was needed, and we all got our vices, to each his own, whatever floats your boat, ties your shoe, tickles your pickle, and all that other cliche shit which means Do watcha like.

How Foul-Mouthed Kingpin got prepared:


How Black Carl got prepared:



How Snaggletooth got prepared: He played video games

After our stomachs were coated, we debated on exactly how these things should be prepared. Marduk wanted to search for recipe's online, but that would no doubt lead him to suicidegirls.com, thus negating any further progress in our pending adventure. So Blackula so adamantly, and with a lot of f-words thrown in, insisted that the snails be boiled for maximum texture preservation, or as he put it, "So them shits taste gross, yo."







So all obliged, and the snails were then boiled, strained and served up for the bravest of souls. The first to plunge his palette into all that boiled snails out of a can have to offer was Way2Nykk:











This right here is the face of victory.

But...before Nykk choked down that thing, he lurched over the sink and almost threw up, causing him to make one of the funniest faces I have seen in a while, which inevitably caused me to laugh so hard, something inside my chest made a weird sound and I fell to the ground in pain and laughing.



It took me a while to get up because I was still laughing the whole time (I was kinda drunk too).

Next up was the blood sucking brother himself, Blackulicious Bej.

My laughter at the plight Nykk's stomach was ill placed, as I went through the same harrowing experience of digesting one of these damn things.





The rubbery texture was almost welcomed in my hand, as the feeling was foreign to me, taking me back to a childhood memory of touching the sealife at the tide pools. But with most moments of reminiscence, the fleeting moment of joy was replaced by the reality that life is a bitch with mean jokes (I got stung by a jellyfish at the tide pools that day).

The boiling process wasn't as thorough as I imagined it should be, being that there wasn't an even consistency of cooked flesh on the snail, leaving a small sack of fluid and the top part of the back, probably around where the shell would've covered, that is an unwelcome gush of what I can only imagine a mixture of pus and sea lice taste like. Add in that the taste of the flesh itself was somewhere between dirty rubber and malnourished poultry, it was some nasty shit.



But with the assistance of beer and King Jaffe the A-Hole chanting "Chew, chew, chew," I soldiered through, muscled through the gag reflex, and after lurching forward over the sink in Nykk-like fashion, I swallowed the snail. Hence, the "I'm okay" look on my face with requisite hand gesture for further assurance.



Next was Zamunda's own, Kayn, who pretty much had the same experiences as we did, except with one skill that Nykk nor I possessed. He was born with the advanced facial structure and muscle configuration to make the funniest faces when eating something gross.











All expressions of "guaaaarrrrhhrhrhrgH" aside, success.



So with the first round done, we were all tired. This was the digestive equivalent of running a marathon, with fatigue setting in. But after a quick rest, our balls got big again, and this idea went from bad to worse.

I kept insisting that we one-up each snail eating round by mixing the snails with other food. Kayn of African Royalty went the easy route and fried his in butter. Being that this is somewhat the typical way to cook escargot, we didn't approve, but he does what he wants and we aren't serious enough about this to stop him. However, the temperature factor was an issue for him and would be in the next round as well. On top of the nasty taste, his face was retching as he kept saying "It's too hot!"









But he made it (note the hand gesture again).



Marduk put his snail in a piece of leftover sushi (big up to Whole Foods). Kayn and I were disapproving of this because I'm sure there is some type of role out there that is exactly this. But, as a lover of all things edible, he didn't want to damage his taste buds doing something crazy.



He ate it with ease.

Blackula had the worst idea of them all. I'll let the picture do the talking.



Due to King Jaffe's lack of SLR experience, the pictures of this epic moment came out blurry, but what happened was that after chomping the top half, i chewed the shit out of the snail/hostess cake in my mouth, trying to overcome the torrent of bad taste in my mouth...to no avail. These two tastes do not go together. I spit out the nastiness, but felt like less of a man. There was still the bottom half of the cupcake left, so I shoved another snail deep into the whipped cream part and shoved it in my mouth, drank some beer, and chewed until everything was swallowable.

Another resting period was required after this gastric lap derby. Moral was wavering, Kayn and I knew that out of the 30 snails left, we could each only handle one more round. Nykk was done, expressing his self hatred for his idea. But with the guarentee that I would do something horribly nasty in return for his participation, he would have one more go.

Nykk, the pussy, covered his with parmesan and ate it. The only gross factor is that it looked like it was covered in dandruff.



Kayn got braver this time and put his in pistachio ice cream. He said the snail cut through the sweetness and makes both foods equally unpleasant. Also, with a mouthful, he kept saying, "It's so Cold!"











But He didn't finish the job he started.





My deal with Nykk was that if he ate one more snail, I would take a shot of vodka, orange pulp, and chopped snail. But the two solids didn't work well with the shotglass and the first try had me with an unexpected mouthful of vodka only. I spit that shit out.







So the pulp had to go. So with the chopped snail and warm, cheap, triple distilled smirnoff in the shotglass, I poured it in my mouth, which refused to swallow the whole thing for about 30 seconds (which seemed like a fucking lifespan).









When I finally got it down, my body was like, "Naw man, fuck you," and...well, scroll down.





That is 3 kinds of sushi, beer, chalupa, snail, half a hostess cake, and persian food I ate earlier all coming out in one rancid mixture.

Then King Jaffe went for gusto.









Next time, we do donut burgers.

Los negritos, outro.