Shitbasket

(Associated Frotuss Press Wires: 00:35:55:1/19/2006)  It must've been something to do with that low-grade acid I used to eat in place of coffee every day for a couple years that strained my logic-atoms because I could've swore one week ago the world was up in arms about some judge who was going to be on the scream, I mean, Supreme court. 

Personally, I don't want shit to do with the Supreme court.  I'd prefer to interact with a whole bunch of Supreme Beings who actually knew right from wrong and weren't that generally interested in screwing people over too badly.  They could probably solve a lot of their own problems.

But that news was last week and probably the stuff of fairy tales.  Most of us don't even remember that cascading shadow of doom.  In two weeks we will forget this spector of doom known as Iran because Allah says "No to Nukes" (Good Idea for Frotuss T-Shirt).  The Nigerian Fraternity who's already gotten Shell Oil to stop pushing those measly 220,000 barrells per day of oil onto the market thanks to its threatened pranks will be a short-lived memory as well.  All this chaos and skyrocketing oil prices and OPEC is going to meet in Vienna next week to cut production to preserve prices and you'd swear the terrorists were just some arm of that whole mess, creating prosperity for many despite their wishes. 

Oh, just not nasty enough...

Alas, our attention spans aren't long enough to process this information because in the world of quick hitting news; instant spin and instant jargon there are but wee seconds for our Lucky Charm Brains to chew on that next marshmallow of sweet instantaneous satisfaction.  Our egos become bruised and ooze yolk if we cannot find cabbage patches of news like some horned up rabbits in the field to fuck on for a second, to create a whole enclave of more forgotten ideas.  We sneer and drink beer or perhaps even wine if we're so inclined and think pitifully of the distant past but to remember anything is so "oh, five minutes ago."  I can't even remember what I began talking about but I'm having some sort of lucid flashback that won't let me sleep.  It's like I want to kill, but not really.

The news told me that Iran was backed into a corner in the headline but I sifted deeper and read more and it all became very interesting but the result was absolutely nothing and how it affected my life really pissed me off because it wasn't affecting my life at all because we all know this is such bullshit.  Some giant piece of linen gets raised high into the air and make believe bullshit is broadcast high for everyone to see, to stir emotion... It's a hole in the ozone... it's global warming... It's a whole lot of shit to get mad about and to feel helpless about and pissed off and depressed and desperate and to hate people at the office that you disagree with about politics but the reality is that I just don't care.  I shouldn't.  If I'm not going to stand up and actually save the world then I'm not entitled to an opinion so I don't have one.  I love to argue but I don't really have an opinion that's really going to make Iran stop hating Isreal.  I have many more important things to attend to like my son waking up in the middle of the night because that's making me almost as crazy as my wife's shoes in the middle of the floor all over the house and this clutter around my computer monitor makes me feel strung out and addled with bugs and for some reason there's a green Rolling Rock bottle sitting empty and shining like a green beacon in the middle of my mind and I can hear air spewing across its open top making that fucking noise that you get when you blow across the top of an empty glass bottle and I wish I could break it.

On top of all that I've got fucking on my mind.  If that isn't the straw that stirs the drink then I don't know what is.  I can lay in bed for hours not getting enough and not getting to sleep because of that chick that I can't have but perhaps could but the way she's just a friend and stares a little too long at me from time to time (or is that me?)... All I can think about is Bukowski.  This morning or last night, in the bathtub, I read where he said to his huge fat woman who was putting him up in a short story, "I could fuck you till you cry," and boy did I laugh my bubbling ass off because that shit mattered to me.  I could relate.  I have my own news to worry about because I have bombs going off in my head every day and the rent seems like it's always due.

Sometimes I can barely communicate outside of my own skull.  Inside, there is something and there is everything and there is absolutely nothing all happening at once.  It's like the goat.  Give it some grass and it'll chew it.  Give it some manure and it'll chew it.  Give it a cigarette and it'll chew it.  The only major difference is the mind is so carnivorous as well.  These extremely flawed thoughts will pop into your mind and you just know, "Holy fucking shit, better not!" ie driving down the road, smash and kill yourself, you know, all those little easy things you could do to cheat yourself out of living or somebody else.  To me that's just reminding yourself of the rules.  "mmm... better not..." It's like walking along creating commandments.

Too Much Fucking Shit Going Down, It Must Be the End of The Fucking World!

(Associated Frotuss Press Wires: 23:10:56:1/17/2006) Let's get something straight. There's not too much frotifiable going on anywhere. Maybe it is the golden age of all work and no play.

Don't get me wrong. There are plenty of people drinking and getting shit-ass wasted. But, there are no good, happy vibrations going down out there. If you don't have cancer, you're probably going to get it. So isn't that the happy thought to live with day in and day out when you're not worrying about paying too much in taxes or paying too little in taxes or worrying about getting our collective noses bloodied by the mighty state of Iran. I'm sure that'll do wonders for their world trade status. People really do need to get over themselves.

This new source must evolve as all things must so therefore, in order to keep things fresh we have to be more honest. No more Ricky Williams-Zulu Puff satire (although it would make good SNL material). If it comes to mind and seems inspiring then great. Beyond the random inclination Frotuss.com must become a transcendent beam of light guided by that invisible hand that's guided many great works in the past.

In fact, feel sorry for yourself. Why not? Everybody says not to do that. To discover the truth we should probably reject what is held unquestioningly as the the absolute truth. That's why we smoke frotuss is it not? We smoke the mean green in spite of what our parents told us and what the law told us and depending on your church of choice, what your church told you. You had to discover your own truth. It's what the dreamy green is all about.

Why not designate an hour for frotuss or simply an hour for contemplation? Sit around and contemplate the world for yourself. Who cares how you do it. Cut yourself off from the world for a while or remain plugged in. Decide for yourself. Be the center of your own universe. Fuck it. Or, just be a flea swirling in a sea of flies above the pile of manure.

The news has infiltrated far too much with its five to 3 or however many pertinent news stories. The news just makes the world want to cry and go home to their mommies. We need a little flavor of the sixties. A little happy, getting together to creep back into things. We had a little of it in the nineties and it went a long way. It may have made some of us temporarily insane, but overall, you wouldn't change anything about it now, would you?

The Pres Displays Kung Fu Skills in defense of Supreme Court Nomination

(Associated Frotuss Press Wires: 21:45:06:1/11/2006) Today the President took action. Although he didn't throw on a kung fu outfit he displayed some flair for the dramatic kung fu effects he grew up watching in the 70s. Onlookers marvelled at his skillful message to democrats who were grilling Judge Alito so ruthlessly that his wife shed some tears and had to excuse herself.

In the end it was just another embarassing day of being an American. Presidential Kung Fu and Judiciary Soap Opera.

Tookie's 15 Minutes were his final

Dead on Arrival: Shot in the Back, John Lennon: 25 Years Ago

(Associated Frotuss Press Wires: 23:13:54:12/8/2005) 25 Years Ago today John Lennon was shot in the back by Mark David Chapman. The world was shocked as basically everyone watched while Howard Cosell remarked again and again that life was oh so much more important than a football game. The Patriots had their season on the line versus the Dolphins from the Orange Bowl and the Dolphins won 16-13 in overtime.

Frotuss got sucked to the core of pipes and down to the roach clips in record excess. The great recordkeeper himself, Ken Kesey, even wrote about watching Monday Night Football in his book Demon Box.

Ode to Bill Brasky:

(Associated Frotuss Press Wires: 23:13:54:12/5/2005) Saturday Night Live used to have a skit where these guys would sit around getting shitfaced in a bar telling stories about the immortal Bill Brasky.

A fun thing to do is to delete Bill Brasky's name and insert someone else's just for kicks.

Recently on "EliteTrader.com" in the message board thread about Jim Cramer getting no love from his fellow CNBC chums I inserted this:

"So anyways, Cramer would put on a white tie and tails and walk his pet cobra through the park on a leash. He named the cobra 'Beverly'. And he taught it how to fetch and dial a phone. But then one day, it bit the maid. So with tears in his eyes, Cramer had to shoot the maid."

In another forum I inserted a certain football player:

"AJ Hawk would use his own thigh as an anvil!!"

Many other funnyisms follow:

1/20/1996

• "Did you know Bill Brasky is the godfather of my son? He shows up at the church in his golf pants, caked in mud. Well, ol' Bill Brasky pushes the priest aside and says, 'I'll baptize that piece of calamari!' Then he pours Scotch all over my baby son and says, 'There! You're baptized!'"
• "Did I ever tell you about the time Bill Brasky sold me into slavery? He puts me on a ship to Thailand, right? And I'm chained to a pipe. Meanwhile, ol' Brasky, he's back in the States siring three beautiful children with my wife!"
• "Did I ever tell you about the time Bill Brasky showed up at my daughter's wedding? You know my daughter, she's a beautiful girl. Well, Brasky shows up and you know he's a big fella. Well, he's standing right between me and my daughter at the ceremony. He's got no right to be there, but he's drunk and he's Brasky! Well, long story short: the priest accidentally marries me and Brasky! We spend the weekend in the Poconos — he loved me like I've never been loved before!"
• "You know how Brasky served three tours in 'Nam? Well, I'm in Corpus Christi on business a month ago, and I had this eight-foot tall Asian waiter which made me a little curious, so I asked him his name, and sure enough it's Ho Tran Brasky!"
• "I went camping with Brasky, his wife, and his daughter Debbie! Debbie Brasky. She's 7-years-old, goes about 3'5", 55 pounds. So, I'm in the back of a pickup with Bill Brasky and a live deer! Well, Brasky, he grabs the deer by the antlers, looks at it and says, "I'm Bill Brasky! Say it!" Then he squeezes the deer in such a way that a sound comes out of its mouth - "Billbrasky!" It wasn't exactly it, but it was pretty good for a deer!"
• "I once saw him eat a whole live chicken."
• "His favorite movie is One on One with Robby Benson."
• "Bill Brasky once gave me a videotape of him having sex with my wife, and it was the most beautiful damn thing I ever saw!"
• "To Bill Brasky! A ten-foot-tall, two-ton son of a bitch who could eat a hammer and take a shotgun blast standing!"

3/16/1996

• "Did I ever tell you about the time Bill Brasky forced me to wear a woman's bikini around the office? Brasky tears off my clothes and makes me wear this skimpy bikini. For the next three months I had to conduct my business wearing a woman's bathing suit. I would cry from shame and question my manhood daily. But at the end of the quarter, I'll be damned if my sales hadn't tripled."
• "He'll eat a homeless person if you dare him."
• "One time I asked Brasky to dress up like Santa for a Christmas party I was throwing for my children. Yeah, that's them, that's them. Well Brasky shows up as Santa, reaches into his bag and says, 'I've got goodies for you kids.' He proceeds to hand out scrap metal and cigarettes to them. Then he takes off his beard and says 'There is no Santa 'cause I ate him.'"
• "He sheds his skin once a year."
• "I once saw him scissor kick Angela Lansbury."
• "Did I ever tell you about the time I went horseback riding with Brasky, but there weren't any horses around? Well, Brasky throws a saddle on my back and rides me around Wyoming for three days. Well wouldn't you know it my stamina increases with each day and I develop tremendous leg muscles. So anyway, Brasky decides to enter me in the Breeders Cup, right? Under the name Turkish Delight. And I'm running in second place, and I'm running and I break my ankle! They’re about to shoot me. Then someone from the crowd yells out, 'God bless him, don't shoot him — he's a human.'"
• "You know he jumped off the Empire State Building this one time and he only sprained his ankle."
• "Like an alligator, he can fully digest a turtle shell."
• "His favorite TV movie is The Boy in the Plastic Bubble starring John Travolta."

2/22/1997

• "He had a four day heart attack! ...Yeah, a day for every chamber! ...When they did the autopsy, they said his heart was like a basketball filled with ricotta cheese! ...They found sixty dollars in change in his stomach!
• "I remember one time Brasky took his family to Sea World... they were watching Shamu the whale when Brasky got splashed! So Brasky yells, 'I'm Bill Brasky and no one gets me wet!' So he climbs into the tank, grabs Shamu and throws the whale into the audience, splashes him and yells, 'How do you like it?!' And then damn if Brasky didn't step in there and finish the show!"
• "You know, he would shoot whiskey into his neck with a syringe."
• "He did all the make-up on the Planet of the Apes movies."
• "He taught me how to love a woman - and how to scold a child."
• "He had dandruff the size of mice!"
• "Did I ever tell you about the time Brasky took me out to go get a drink with him? We go off lookin' for a bar and we can't find one. Finally, Brasky takes me into a vacant lot and says, Here we are!' Well, we sat there for a year and a half. Sure enough, someone constructed a bar around us! Well, the day they opened it, we ordered a shot, drank it and then burnt the place to the ground. Brasky yelled over the roar of the flames, 'Always leave things the way you found them!'"
• "He once punched a hole in a cow just so he could see who was comin' up the road."
• "He had nine children, all of 'em boys!"
• "He sired a baseball team... An orchestra, if you count the bastards!"
• "Did I ever tell you about the time I had breakfast with Brasky? Brasky drank a full glass of liquid LSD with his eggs. Then he slept for eight months straight. When he woke up, he rubbed his eyes and said, 'All in all, I prefer gin!'"
• "They say Gene Roddenberry got the idea for Star Trek from Brasky talkin' in his sleep!"
• "He once breast-fed an injured flamingo back to health."
• "He used to jog around the block with a fridge on his back!"
• "His poop is considered currency in Argentina!"
• "He loved extension cords!"
• "He hated Mexicans! ...And he was half Mexican! ...And he hated irony!"
• "He grew a third arm and kept it in a vault!"
• "He slept eight hours a night! Well, he was pretty normal when it came to that."

Grasscity.com Has the shit.

Which got me thinking...

(Associated Frotuss Press Wires: 22:34:09:12/2/2005) Where to begin. We make fun of so many other people on frotuss but so rarely do we step back and have a laugh at ourselves. After perusing the searchword "bong" on yahoo.com because I do not like google and wish to use a different search engine as google has almost become an integral part of our brains like masturbation or taking a crap or picking one's nose- I've become assertive in using other forms of search- but I digress...

Where did I begin.. ah, yes, taking a peek at ourselves is almost as revealing as reading a Bible or a Talmud or a Q'Uaran or the directions on a condom wrapper. When I was a young man of twenty I was religious about my frotification or pot smoking, if you will. There were many friends that I had back then. They all smoked frotuss. In fact, our religious ceremony often consisted of something we affectionately called a "clambake" which had nothing to do with clams but it did have something to do with cooking up cannabis.

What made me laugh was watching television and seeing U2 on television and my wife saying that she didn't really care for Achtung Baby! and I said that I really liked that album because the Mysterious Ways video was trippy as hell. I remembered torturing my frotifying friends by driving around in my 1994 Ford Probe (The Excelsior 2000) and clambaking inside- driving through the Valley and my friend Skip saying, "Please turn that off" and I was playing it over and over as I was inspired and smoking weed on a beautiful, crisp Autumnal Day. I tortured those classic rock fuckers and it was probably the third drive around town for the day- clambaking.

Driving around frotifying made going to Amsterdam the most gratifying thing in the world to me ever and I wish that I could take every friend that I've ever clambaked with to the Red Light District for just a 1/2 hour (and not for the cheap sex). Amsterdam is Mecca. Probably one of the happiest places on the planet.

Swervin' Michael Irvin: Busted On Crackpipe Charge

(Associated Frotuss Press Wires: 21:10:43: 11/28/2005) You heard it. You saw the headline on your cell phone while you were driving to work. You might've laughed and thought, "What a fucking idiot!"

You remembered way back when he was trapsing the sideline with a fur coat on and getting busted with hookers and coke-whores in hotel rooms. He did all that bad stuff and was still very successful on the football field.

After he retired and toned down that pimp-blingin' style of behavior he came on ESPN for the past few years for his weekly segments of "jacked up" and talkin' 'bout "Da U" which is annoying to everybody but 'Canes fans- and maybe even some of them, too.

It was easy to assume that he indeed slipped back into those old drug-addled days and for a few hours during the day I couldn't wait to roast him on Frotuss but as I sat and looked up an old pimpblingin' photo I saw him do his Stuart Scott interview. For as much as Stuart Scott is over the top and annoying Michael Irvin seemed genuine and real and more human than I ever really imagined he ever could be. He didn't come across as a crackhead. He was a person who convinced me that he was helping people get off drugs. The reason for not throwing it into the trash seemed valid. If he is on crack, then he's a better actor than Robert Downey, Jr. and he should just become an actor- because not only are actors on drugs tolerated- it's encouraged because you get publicity.

Frotuss Update: Thanksgiving in USA is best holiday.

(Associated Frotuss Press Wires: 19:10:39: 11/21/2005) Do you like to draw? Do you enjoy doodling? If so, you might be an artist. But odds are you probably love to drink and probably frotify if you read this website anytime at all. And. You probably have no real discernible artistic talants outside drawing circles or pictures of brains while you talk on the telephone at work. You should probably keep a notebook handy in lieu of excessive masturbation.

Outside of artwork, frotification and masturbation you should be gearing up to be around family this time of the year if you're an American. Friends and family, actually. It can be a fun time, especially if your family frotifies and drinks excessively like mine does. It's kind of like hanging out with a bunch of former rock stars. They all kind of look forward to tying one on with the young buck from Florida whose reputation has grown beyond reality as the years have passed since the old hard-rock, heavy-acid era of the mid-90s. Those days are long gone but the fam will still pay money to watch you drink your eyballs out.

What usually happens is everybody gets too drunk the night before and expectations never quite get lived up to and everybody bows out by 9 after a few half hearted attempts at stupidity. The liquor never quite gets out and everybody gets sleepy on the wine and beers and the turkey for the 20th time of the day. Ooooh. Turkey and stuffing. Start starving yourself now.

Frotuss Jenkins and the space shoe

Raise a Glass for the Frotuss

(Associated Frotuss Press Wires: 00:05:45: 11/19/2005) Most people never had heroes. Some of us have had them. Pictured above is the world famous Cassady. This is egotistical, but I have nothing in life to compare my life to but what I've read, but back in 1995 I took a tenstrip and laid it on my tongue for all my friends to see then flirted with disaster for the remainder of the next two years.

Cassidy, pictured above, was my hero. We were from an artificial world. Later on, Cassady was betrayed and so was Jesus. It happens. The thing about drugs is that it depends on what type your taking and with whom.

Sick of Making Fun of the News: Frotuss Vows to Become The News

(Associated Frotuss Press Wires: 20:55:51: 11/18/2005) Welcome to my spaceship... It's right here where I left her and the heart's a lonely hunter... Ahh, yes, the jibber yammer of covering the windows and being careful where the light goes.

Fortunately, earth beings, the aliens are here and yes, we can live forever, but don't tell too many of your friends. There isn't enough room for all of us. It comes down to getting an actor to stand in for you and its really complicated how you pay them (pretty tricky).

Remember something that you laughed about....

Meanwhile... Back at the crime scene... several people became exhausted fuming over your corpse. It seemed like death but sure enough it seemed an awful lot like a Minneapolis suicide and the sushi joints were all under surveillance. People wondered how a knife that long and obtuse had become something so analogous and adjacent. The movies couldn't have re-written such scripts to anything like it. Only the newspapers could report about such things as death in the afternoon by gas by gaspipe and basement procedures. Sick and sickening. Flurries and flourishes could've only told of Neo bashing General Motors products for sport and advertising dollars for the movies and it seemed so... reel....

Far OUT: NEW REALITY TV SHOW CONVINCES PEOPLE THEY'RE IN SPACE

(Associated Frotuss Press Wires: 20:19:23: 11/16/2005) Nine People will be told they are set to visit the final frontier as space tourists and that in preparation they will undergo intensive training in Russia courtesy of the Space Touris Agency of Russia, but in reality the groups will be "trained" for space in an unused airbase in a secret location in the UK.

Their shuttle will be a Hollywood creation, made originally for the movie Space Cowboys.

Actors have been placed in the group to spy and see if the group catches on to the simulation that's not much more than a joke on a group of unsuspecting dupes looking for glory in outer space.

Chirac: zzzzzzz

(Associated Frotuss Press Wires: 20:19:54: 11/14/2005) So far Chirac has been pretty quiet in the face of the televised uprising in France. He seems confused and out of touch with the idea of France being a melting pot to other cultures. According to a Reuters interview with a 16 year old person clamoring for change he mentioned that "they" (the French Government) are not doing enough for us... We don't even have a proper cinema, nothing. Nothing is going to change."

Well, if that about sums up the reason for the whole torment and timult someone should tell this guy that he lives in France and France isn't going to change for anybody. There is going to be no cinema for him. It is FRANCE! Vive la France! Non, non, non, pooh!

France's goal in the world, as made clear by Monsieur Charles De Gaulle and Monsieur Chirac is not to change or adapt. France's culture is superior to America's (which is a confligration of cultures) and certainly superior to everyone else's as well.

France is dealing with culture warfare and Monsieur Chirac is fiddling while the shithouse burns. There is no acknowledgement of anything that is not suave or Roger Moore-ish and French. He wants the world to think of scarves, and fall or springtime weather and scarves and berets and fluffy little puppies and shopping up and down the Champs Elysees. Gazing upon stolen edifices like the obelisk is for the world to come and marvel over in all grandeur so that France is the temple of Western Culture, but, because of the stifling looks and all this "what the fuck are you doing" foreigners can't quite always make themselves at home.

The communities that have come to France didn't do it 400 years ago. They've done it decade after decade recently. Finally, they've gotten their feet wet and cold in the Seine long enough to say something. There hasn't been any real violence yet. No slashers and rapers yet. They just want their cinema. There's plenty of food, just not too much opportunity lurking. You can live on welfare like the middle class but you cannot escape the middle class even if you work and all the filaffles in the world sold for cash Euros and no taxes can get you too far out of that.

Denver Pot Issue Passes: 54/46

(Associated Frotuss Press Wires: 20:19:54: 11/13/2005) "It just goes to show the voters of Denver are fed up with a law that prohibits adults from making a rational, safer choice to use marijuana instead of alcohol," said Mason Tvert, executive director of Safer Alternative for Enjoyable Recreation, or SAFER.

The measure will change the city's ordinance to make it legal for adults 21 and older to possess up to an ounce of marijuana in the city.

The State's Attorney General said this law is nonsense and normal laws will still apply.

Jen's Doing it Right

(Associated Frotuss Press Wires: 20:16:09: 11/10/2005) She can't be famous anymore for being Brad's wife. Brad was always able to land the cool, freaky roles that frotifyers enjoyed in films like 12 Monkeys, Fight Club, Kalifornia, Snatch. But Brad is doing a lotta cheese these days and Jen has gotten her own new mojo. She's doing a thriller that should freak you the fuck out: Derailed. If the ads are any indicator it should be awesome.

If you're wondering what kind of cheese movies I nominate Mr. & Mrs. Smith with Hot Lips Houlihan aka Angelina; Billy Bob's slippery seconds. Remember that song: "Angelina... What's come between us?" Yep, it is extremely sad that I know that they moved into Slash's old place because (they being Angelina and Billy Bob) Billy Bob was going to become a rock star now that he had conquered Forest Gump as Sling Blade of "I like the way you talk," and "I reckon I'll have me some them french fried potaters," fame.

But, we digress here. Jen seems to be on the right track. Whether or not her movie is a box office smash, these are the kinds of movies that you can watch in 20 years and still like. Just like all the old Michael Caine movies that I'm so into these days.

Cheerleaders Caught Making Out

(Associated Frotuss Press Wires: 20:16:54: 11/07/2005) Renee Thomas (left) and Angela Keathley were allegedly involved in a fight after the two were having sex in a bathroom in Banana Joe's in Tampa.

What captures the public imagination most of all is that they are cheerleaders for a professional football team. The cheerleaders were kicked off the team on Monday for violating a signed code of conduct, Panthers spokesman Charlie Dayton said. The two violated a rule that bans conduct that's embarrassing to the team or organization. With the players, it's apparently on a case by case basis or in the case of Terrell Owens 7 strikes and your out.

Look for these faces to be popping up soon at the Adult video rental store near you. Pro Football chearleaders aren't nearly as pristine as the college versions. These ladies are a little thick on the makeup and a little rough around the edges; not far removed from ladies that you find at say, Cheetah's II in Ft. Lauderdale.

Witness said that the women were having sex with each other in a stall, angering patrons waiting in line to get into the restroom at the club. Next time they would have more success carrying on in the men's room. In there it would be tolerated.

**