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Today's topic makes The Baron want to swan dive, penis first into a tank of scorpions and also fire. The Baron is of course referring to, premature door standers (PDS's). These antsy flannigans for whatever reason, simply cannot, or will not remain seated until the vehicle has reached its destination.
PDS's are most often encountered on trains, buses and aircraft although they reside in nearly every location that contains doors which open periodically.
Here's the situation. A cockmonger steps onto the train. They sit down. 4 minutes or more before their stop is reached, said assmaster stands up and crowds about the door like their genitals are on fire and they're waiting in line to hump an old west style horse trough.
Every extra minute they spend anxiously peering out the doors before their destination is reached makes them exponentially more of an assmaster (figure 1).
But wait! you say. What if the person in question is in a big rush and needs to be the first one off the conveyance?
Haha, oh naive reader, that's the bitter smegma of this whole crusty phenomenon. The PDS never, The Baron repeats, never needs to be the first person off the train. You see, their MO is to make sure people who are in a rush, or who are late get stuck behind a stinking herd of plebes.
So you see, PDS's are no better than leaky sandwich bags full of expired bull semen and should be treated as such.
As if the media hasn't embarrassed itself enough already with this whole twitter bullshit and reporting iPod releases like they were the second coming of quilted turlet paper, now they've traipsed even further into the gaping vagina of infotainment.
"Survey reports 52% of businesses think swine flu outbreaks will be more severe this fall."
Are you shitting The Baron? What kind of butt-blasting, bicycle raping horseshit is this?
How is this even a stat?
Doesn't 52% mean that the businesses surveyed were actually coins the media was flipping in their mucus cocoons down by the sewage treatment plant?
Furthermore, why in the name of feces would they even run a survey like this? It's like asking a bunch of monkeys if the recession is going to end this year (Note: This comment does not pertain to The Ape Lord and his cadre of fanatics, The Baron intended no offense Chancellor Pickles).
For instance, The Baron can come up with some other stats which are equally as valid:
52% of Hobos think there will be either more or less hotdogs in the dumpster this winter.
Taupe will be the new hot color this fall, reports iron workers local 309.
The Baron predicts a sharp uptick in models trying to put their growlers all up in his face in 2010 (Actually, this one is not ridiculous at all, The Baron just wanted everyone to know).
This is why The Baron tries to ignore literally everything the media reports. They're a pack of cummed-up shitbags and for some reason they can't even tell they're being fucktards. It's like members of the press are unable to see their own image when it's displayed on TV and hence can't see how assmasterish they come off.
Wait a second......Can't see their own image on TV......Fucking Horse Nuts!!!! That makes them Robovampires! Right!? Right!? Fuck, fuck, fuck!
The Baron is heading to radio shack to buy a galvanometer and some metal stak.... er, rather antennas and he commands you to give him at least a 45 minute head start. How did The Baron not see this sooner...Fucking Sparkheads!
LeVar Baron,
There are reams of empirical evidence regarding the punishment that greasy cheeseburgers rain down on defenseless turlets. Ergo, can a total prime babe do anything more unattractive than eat a GCB? The train of thoughts that sight causes is a train I let pass through the station.
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile
Dear Concerned Pooper
This is indeed a troubling issue. Namely, when a total babe eats gross food (super burritos, greasy cheeseburgers, suggestively shaped kilbasa, &c) does this mean she will destroy a turlet in the same manner that The Baron might?
After all, nothing could be more disgusting than a hot piece of bitch divesting herself of several liters of liquid burger leavings like an upside down poop volcano.
Thankfully, The Baron can assuage your fears with a short lesson in female anatomy:
Although the female would appear to be very outwardly similar to the male (with some obvious and awesome additions and subtractions) the female gastrointestinal tract works at 1/180th the speed of the male's.
This means that the female human need only dump out 2 times a year, once on Easter and once on Halloween.
The Baron knows what you're thinking, "Say The Baron, wouldn't a turd half a year old be enormous and disgusting?"
Hahaha, gentle reader, nothing could be further from the truth. Like a fine scotch, a lady turd decreases in volume and stench as it ages. The final "dump", if you can even call it that, is a thick transparent oil which smells like fruit loops. There's nothing wrong with that right?
In conclusion, women don't have the same response to disgusting foods as men so if you ever happen to be crouching on the seat of a turlet in the women's room and hear / smell anything out of the ordinary, contact The Baron Enforcement Corps because you may be voyeurizing a Changeling and they can be very dangerous when cornered.
Tombstone is one of The Baron's favorite movies of all time.
You might think it's because of the shooting, or the drinking, or the cussing and you'd be wrong.
It's because of Val Kilmer's portrayal of Doc Holiday, the man who reigns as one of the most badass lady slayers of all time.
Let's take a look at his stirring interpretation of this legendary hardass:
Holy shit! Talk about execution! The Baron couldn't grow a mustache like that even if he gave Tom Sellick's cookie broom eskimo kisses for good luck.
Val's lip cover really is a defiant, insulting piece of work. The main body of the stache says "I know I'm better than you" and when you ask "oh, yeah, how do you know?" the saucy little triangle goatee says "fuck you!" and holds up a picture of your mom getting a kilmer-style mustache ride.
And that's exactly how Doc Holiday acted in Tombstone. Say the cowboy gang doesn't like his style....well he'll just go ahead and drink until he is shaking and sweating with rage, insult the shit out of one of them and then play it off like it was the mustache's idea, then when they least expect it BAM! a bullet in the brainpan.
The Baron is positive that this is the way the real Doc operated and was severely disappointed when he saw that Val shaved that glorious lip sweater after the movie.
Regardless (irregardless isn't a word you fucknuts cause if it was it would mean anti-regardless which is the same as regardful you dickflake) The Baron would like to relive one of the greatest quotes of the movie:
Soon to be deceased: Hell, you couldn't shoot me, you're so drunk you're seeing double.
Doc The Stache Holiday: (brandishing a second pistol) Well I've got one for each of you then.
Goddamn!!!!
You know when a new turn of phrase becomes popular? A phrase such as "talk to the hand", or "as if"? You know how as soon as your parents, or the news media starts using it, it's no longer cool and in fact makes you look like a big fat pair of sacktits? And that soon thereafter, the phrase falls out of fashion for 30 years?
Well, two of these insipid sayings have refused to die and seem to get more and more irritating with each passing year:
1. Not so much (petulantly).
Holy shit, The Baron can't believe this phrase was ever popular. This is the kind of thing that a shit-dick heard on some ass-fisting sitcom and couldn't wait to use on his eurotrash butt-blasting friends. The Baron can just picture the little shitfuck and his gay ass white converse sneakers, black fitted jeans and mac glasses with slim flannel shirt and it makes him want to puke on god's front porch:
"Hey, Blake do you want to go rape a horse tonite?"
"Not so much" (some sort of shitty little smirk on his asshole covered face).
"Why not pookie?"
"I'd rather rape a goat they're easier to chase down!"
The Baron is blasting himself with cold water, in the lab safety shower, also he is naked, really, really naked.
2. I'm good (condescendingly)
Now that The Baron has puked up everything in his digestive tract, and yes that includes feces, and yes he's been eating 8 super burritos a day for weeks and hadn't dumped out in that entire time, we move on to the second cumbag phrase.
The Baron believes this "gem" may have come from "friends", or possibly "seinfeld". Generally the way these things work is that some comedy writers, who are not nearly as clever as they think they are come up with a possible catch-phrase and instantly begin groping and penetrating each other in the dingy sub-basement where they live and work.
If the verbal diarrhea passes muster it is extruded during the next airing of the sitcom in question. Usually, it gets stuck in the show's thick fur and becomes hard and sticky. The show crouches down and drags its ass across the assholish faces of its audience, rubbing the catchphrase-berry off in the process.
It's always some smug bitch ass cunt who belts this one out and she always uses it when she can't figure a way out of an argument she's losing. Although how she can even make it to the bathroom and back is beyond The Baron's comprehension:
"Listen, Stephanie, I'm telling you, if you put that dry cleaner's bag over your head while you're driving, you'll just run over another crossing guard and get away with it because your dad is a rich cumfiend and your mom is a wealthy but vacuous piece of shit just like those girls on the hills who you want to be like even though they are fictional representations of stupid rich cunts and douchetards and you're a middle class sack-titted bitch with huge sunglasses, a fake tan and a superiority complex and you've willfully made yourself into a cum-filled ninny through years of reality television, you deluded, cock-biting waste of 110 pounds of meat! Will you please let me help you?'
"I'm good...' (batting her huge stupid eyelashes, above her blank bovine eyes beneath sunglasses as big as a car window.)
The Baron swore some 10 years ago that the 100,000th time he heard this phrase, he would murder an entire cubic city block (you heard The Baron right cubic, so don't think your hot air balloon makes you safe) no matter where he was, or what he was doing. Just a fair warning, the count is currently at 99,987, so be careful if you're around any shit-smeared assmasters or their dicktard cronies, especially if there is a vintage 1917 Zepplin parked nearby.
But wait! you say. What if the person in question is in a big rush and needs to be the first one off the conveyance?
