Billboard’s (Not So) Greatest Hits

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“The Schytts Greatest Hits” -1975

Album Tracklist

“Just Talking Schytt”

“My Brothers Are a Bunch Of Schytts”

“He May Be Adopted, But He’s A Real Schytt to Me”

“How Did You Know I Was A Schytt?”

“This Album Is Really The Schytts”

“Of Course He’s A Little Schytt…He’s My Son!”

“Our Neighbor Is A Total Schytt Disturber”

“No, That’s Not How You Spell Our Last Name”

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SnellConfessions

“Jay Snell’s Confessions Of A Teen-Age Girl” -1976

Album Tracklist

“Are You There God? It’s Me, Jay Snell”

“Sometimes It’s Really Hard Being a Teen-Age Girl”

“Ok, I Confess…I Kissed Bobby Parker”

“I Stuff My Bra”

“I’m Not Really Bisexual, I Just Pretend To Be So The Boys Will Like Me More”

“I Let Bobby Parker Feel Me Up”

“All Of My Facebook Pics Were Taken In Front Of  The Bathroom Mirror”

“I Totally Had Sex With Bobby Parker”

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the-dove

Thank-You For The Dove…And Other Stuff” -1974

Album Tracklist

“Thank-You For The Chia-Head”

Thank-You For the  Stuffed Emu”

“Thank-You for The Pylon”

“Thank-You For The Precious Moments Figurine”

“Thank-You for The Left Mitten”

“Thank-You For The Petri-Dish”

“Thank-You For the Hat Full Of Busted Assholes”

“Thank-You For the Inuit”

“Thank-You For The Whatever The Hell This Thing Is”

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wally-whyton-its-me-mum

“It’s Me Mum! Wally Whyton” -1968

Album Tracklist

“Mum, It’s me, Wally!”

“”You know, Wally Whyton”

“Your Son, Remember?”

“Why Are You Pretending You Don’t Know Me, Mum?”

“Mum, Come On…This Isn’t Funny”

“At Least Wave Back, I Look Like A Total Ass Right Now”

“Where Are You Going, Mum?”

“PLEASE COME BACK, MUM! I NEED A RIDE HOME!!!”

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Comments

  1. haha hahaha…too funny! My sides are seriously hurting! The Wally Whyton album sent me over the edge!

    Thank you for being you, bschooled!

    • Hey Talon!

      Yes, that Wally Whyton definitely is a character. It’s almost like he’s a living and breathing birth-control advertisement.

      Thanks for visiting, T, it’s always good to see you!

      (ps. Remember what I said about your photos…your talent is seriously making me look bad)

  2. Hah! Nice. How are you? I am away trying to help Rosie O’Donnell and Kelli Carpenter. Did you know they’re having problems? Big ones. How big? So big that that their problems should be written in caps with many exclamation marks following. Yup, that BIG!!! I was at evil Rosie’s Pittsburgh digs this morning and the former daytime TV host and all round annoyance broke down in tears while discussing her fetchingly sinister henchwoman and longtime partner. “We’re a family, Alpo!” she told me, “and now that bitch has fucked off.”

    Things could get messy.

    Love the LPs. I own them all. I dug around and found The Schytts liner notes. Hopefully I can find the others later.

    The Schytts Greatest Hits

    When Electra Records approached me and my Schytt brothers to record this album, I thought, “Wahoo! If this doesn’t get me laid, nothing will! Yay! Ping ping! Zippy pip! Be Hippity hap de doe. Soon, I’ll be a virgin no more! Wackka wapoo!”

    It didn’t matter that our lawyer said the deal was criminal. Or that we would be the record company’s slaves and they would own our music rights and souls in perpetuity. Nope, all that mattered was that I not die a fat and bald virgin. It was really important to me. As the oldest of the Schytt brothers not only was my waistline expanding and my hair thinning but I could feel the oncoming disappointment of erectile dysfunction fast approaching. Soon I’d be the known as “Spongy” and before that happened I had to know what it was like to dip my toe into “Female Sex Organ Lake.”

    Our approach to making this album was novel: I decided to call it “Greatest Hits” even though we had never produced anything before. I was thinking outside the box. Now, I know, there was a backlash, and that the album will forever be known as “Greatest Schytts” but, well, that’s hindsight for you.

    Anyway, I decided that with the money we made we’d buy stuff, like clothes and, if I still hadn’t gotten laid, hookers. I’d do whatever it took. We recorded the LP in 14 minutes. Our producer, Vlad (The Impaler) Bathory, spent the entire (and brief) recording session leering at my hunky young brother Timbo while adding in all kinds of zany sound effects (and couple of unused Hudson Brothers tracks) to “pad out” the LP. Vlad had no faith in any of us. He was sure the record wouldn’t sell, that I would remain and likely die an impotent virgin, and that by the end of the week, Timmy’s ass would be his. Boy, was he right. Still, at least things worked out with him and Timmy. Last Christmas they had us all over. There was a “grizzly incident” with the turkey baster, but other than that—a fun day.

    Wilbo Schytt (revised liner notes 1979)

    Cover photo: Yousuf Karsh © 1972 Electra Records

    • Oh Alan! Really, it’s so good to see you. I heard that you were in Pittsburgh trying to help out the O’Donnell/Carpenters, and frankly, I was a little worried. You know how I feel about Lebaneses. Especially those butchy, third-gender ones.

      It’s funny you should mention the liner notes. I was doing a little digging myself, and I found the liner notes to the liner notes, as written by one of the Epic Records Executives, Mr. Richard (Dick) Rasch.

      The Schytts Greatest Hits

      When I got the Schytts, I couldn’t believe it. I just kept thinking “Hurrah! If this doesn’t get that Schytt laid nothing will! Yay! Yip Yip! Yop! Yoplait! Yogen Fruzen! Yodelayheehoo!

      I guess I just feel for him, you know? I can’t help it…I’m a feeler. It’s actually gotten me into a bit of legal trouble over the years, but really, that’s neither here nor there.

      Anyway, he walked into my office…wait, what was his name again? Will Schytt? Willby Schytt? Will.i.am Schytt? Something like that. Anyway, like I was saying, he walked into my office, and all I saw was this ugly, fat, bald virgin. Like really fat. And really, really bald. I knew right then that I needed to help. He just needed a hand-out rather than a hand-up, that’s all.

      Between you, me, and the fencepost though, I can tell by the way his unitard was resting against his groin area that even if he does get some action Jackson, it’s still going to be an uphill battle.

      Oh well, I did my part.

      It’s funny, because I actually knew the Schytts Father as well. We went to school together. That man was the biggest Schytt I’ve ever laid eyes on. Seriously, the guy was built like a brick shit house (excuse my French). He and I used to go fishing in Female Sex Organ Lake, about 30 miles west of here. Good times. Caught a lot of Fucking cod, I tell you. And snapper.

      But I digress.

      Although I haven’t listened to their demo, I’m sure the Schytts are going to be big. Just so long as Mr. Fat Bald Virgin keeps his thoughts inside the box, that is. He’s been coming up with some crazy ideas lately, like how he’s going to buy “stuff” and lay hookers. I keep telling him he needs to focus on the music, but really, he doesn’t understand the whole “business part” of the business. But his brother? Now there’s a guy I could really sink my “business part” into, if you know what I mean…(if you don’t know what I mean just add me to MSN and I’ll explain later- ContagiousRasch@hotmail.com).

      I just hope things work out. Vlad (The Impaler) Bathory (the Schytt’s Producer and my second-cousin by third-marriage), didn’t seem all that pleased to be working with the Schytts (well, except for Timbo).

      All I have to say is that he’d better change his tune by Christmas, I’m supposed to be going there for dinner this year. Hell, I even got the bastard a sweet-ass turkey baster. Yeah, I realize it’s a few months away, but hey, what can I say. They were having a 2 for 1 sale.

      Dick Rasch (notes prior to Schytt revised liner notes of 1979)

      Cover photo: William James Topley © 1972 Electra Records

  3. Bschooled, I’ve been a silent fan of your blog for a while now and I must reply to this post… I want to say thanks for bringing recognition to one of my all time favorite groups…The Schytts. I have some of their lesser known albums and wanted to share some of my favorite songs with everyone. Here’s a few of my favorites from the Schytts! I’d be proud if you would allow these on your blog. Hopefully people will listen to them more. Here’s to the Schytts.

    Who, Who are you? Are you the Schytts.

    He ain’t Schytt, he’s my brother.

    Don’t be Schyttin under the apple tree with anyone else but me.

    Come on Baby, let’s do the Schytt.

    Me and you and a dog named Schytt.

    Run around Schytt.

    Leader of the Schytt.

    Schytt is the word I used to describe you!

    Put you left foot in the Schytt and take you left foot out of the Schytt!

    Are you going to Schyttboro Fair?

    FreeSchyttbird!

    Schytt in a bottle.

    • Hey Ornery Frank!

      First of all, I have to say that I’m honored you chose my blog to share your favorite songs from a band that, until very recently, I knew very little about.

      These songs are brilliant, and I can now see why the Schytts have had such a profound impact on you. Although I haven’t listened to any of these tracks myself, a few of them sound like they could in fact, be remakes of my old favorites.

      For example, “He ain’t Schytt, he’s my brother”, sounds a lot like “He ain’t my Brother, he’s Shite”, an old Gaelic tune my Uncle used to sing to me whenever my Father refused to give him money for a six-pack. Well to be honest, his was more of a yelling sound than an actual singing voice, but really, that was just his way.

      My Mom said it was because he was an unemployed drunk, but I like to think it was just because he was passionate about his craft.

      And “Come on Baby, let’s do the Schytt”, sounds like a song that my first boyfriend used to sing, only his version was entitled “Come on Bschooled! Let’s do this Schytt! What are you, frigid?” But in this case, he was definitely yelling.

      I like your version much better.

      Are you sure you aren’t related to these brothers in some way? Because if not, it’s their loss. Sounds to me like you’d be the kind of Schytt who could really draw a crowd.

      Anyway, thanks again for these wonderful songs, Ornery Frank. I hope to see you again, I have a feeling that your background knowledge of “non-mainstream music” could really help me out around here.

      Bschooled:)

      • Bschooled, I imagine that your Father sounded something like Louis Armstrong… I can hear him now, singing another Schytt song I haven’t mentioned in the Schytts song list…I’ve got the Schytts, if you’ve got the time… Also, please let me complement you again. You are sage and insightful when you stated the Schytts have had a profound effect on my life… Please allow me to share a personal moment with you…

        I remember one time – in Ecuador – when I woke up in a drunken stupor, thirsty, I stumbled to the bathroom of my hotelroom. I couldn’t remember what “agua no es potable” meant on that little sign on the mirror… I drank a big gulp of that agua from the faucet… This is exactly when the Schytts began to have an effect on my life… As my bowels began to rumble, I heard the Schytts on the little alarmclock radio… I bet you would have never imagined that the Schytts are very popular in Ecuador?

        Feliz navidad,

        Ornery Frank

        • Ornery Frank,

          Thank-you for sharing that personal moment with me. At first I was a little concerned, seeing as one person’s “personal moment” is another person’s “disturbingly graphic details about their creepy erotic-asphyxiation fettish”, but I’m glad it all worked out.

          That was a great story, complete with an introduction, foreshadowing, dramatic climax and smoothly transitioned denouement. Reading it, it felt almost like I was there with you, feeling your pain (yet saying nothing), as you ignored the sign (which I would have understood, not to brag or anything), and fell into your downward spiral.

          Very deep stuff.

          Judging from both your taste in music and your avatar name, I’m assuming that you’re an ex-pat? And funny you should mention Ecuador, I actually know someone else who lives there. I’d ask you if you know him, but I doubt you would. He’s quite a bit younger than you (or than I’m picturing you to be), and definitely not as witty. I think he might be slow.

          Anyway, I’m going there myself in a few months, and now that I know you guys have a) the internet, and b) the Schytts, I’m sure it’s going to be a great time!

          Thanks again for visiting, Ornery Frank. You sound like a very interesting guy.

          Feliz Halloweenita,

          Bschooled:)

          • B, who is this other friend you have in Ecuador? Maybe I can help him (since he is slow and all) from time to time. You know me always trying help out. And if he’s a younger fella, we might be close to the same age.

            Not sure if I’ve ever heard the Schytts down here yet, but I’ll keep poking and prodding around.

          • Thanks so much for your kind offer, S.

            But really, I’d hate to put you in that position. Trust me, it wouldn’t be pretty. Not only is he a little “cramped in the cranium” (believe it or not, I just made that up on the fly!) , he’s the kind of guy who drops those random, confusing idiom-bombs. You know, sayings like ““A bad boob is better than no boob at all…”

            Ok, well maybe not that one in particular (apparently Anonymous was responsible for that quote), but phrases like it.

            I couldn’t subject you to something like that. It just wouldn’t feel right.

          • Bschooled, thanks so much for the Feliz Halloweenita, you are so kind and fluent in Spanish, how cool… I’m actually living back in the states now-a-days… I’m sorry to hear about your slow friend in Ecuador. I was in Guayaquil Ecuador when the bad agua changed my life… I wonder if the bad agua affected his head?

            Wanted to tell you, (another personal moment, but don’t worry, no creepy fetishes or butt plugs or, umm!, let’s continue) today, I was asked by a funny looking collection for the mentally handicapped dude at the entrance to a Walmart Supercenter if I wanted to give money for the mentally handicapped… (No kidding)… I looked him straight in the eyes and said “nope, I’m saving my dollars for a slow guy in Ecuador” Well, he looked at me like… I …was mentally handicapped and offered me money out of his little coffee can… no, I didn’t take any money… but I’m thinking that your blog has changed the outcome of this encounter… Blogging can affect people’s lives!!! Just thought you might find this interesting…Tomorrow I’m going back to Walmart to help the handicapped with a donation… I may lose sleep over this tonight… geezs!

            Mucus Gracias

          • Mucus gracias to you too, Frank (can I call you Frank?), that is truly a touching story. And to think that I’m the reason for that story…well let’s just say it almost feels like I sent a kid to camp.

            Slow camp.

            Anyway, keep up the good work, Frank. And when do you finally save up a good chunk of cash, just forward the money to me and I’ll take over from there.

            Obviously my slow friend isn’t really all that good at budgeting.

            Hasta mustardes,
            bschooled

  4. Another brilliant raid on the ol’ memory vault of Schytts and giggles!

    It all ties things together beautifully, B; a vital music period which no doubt influenced our beloved Hoff, like old bluesmen inspiring Jimi Hendrix years before Woodstock.

    Oh sure, The Hoff cranked it up with leather coat, briefs, unbuttoned shirt, and serious alcohol intake, and the kinky car affair was no doubt burrowed from “My Mother the Car”, but that challenged sidekick was pure genius. Jay Snell may be appalled (yet curious), but Wally would be gosh darn proud!

    • Thank-you Invasive1,

      You’re right, I’m sure Jay Snell would be appalled. But then again, what do you expect? She’s still got a lot of growing up to do.

      As for Wally, I don’t think he’s even aware of the whole debacle. Last I heard he was stumbling his way down the I-90, trying to get from Seattle to Boston so he can say “Bye Mum!” before the whole 2012 Apocalypse takes place. She may be embarrassed by him (and rightly so), but at least the woman had enough sense to give him sensible shoes to walk home in.

      Thanks for the comment, Invasive1. “Schytts and giggles” indeed.

      b:)

  5. You obviously don’t have the Schytt’s first album

    Eat Schytt and Die
    I got the Runs but you got the Schytts
    Where’s the toilet paper
    My brother is the Schytt
    Schytt Eating Grin
    Schytt on a Shingle

    • Haha! No you’re right, Bearman, I don’t have their first album. But after seeing the tracklist, it’s definitely something I’ll be spending my next paycheck on.

      “Where’s the Toilet Paper?” sounds like a song everyone can relate to, at least at some point in their lives. I only wish I’d known about that tune when I was doing my “nightshots” photo gallery. It would have made me feel less “alone”.

      The Schytts really do put the “ass” in class. Don’t you agree, BM?

  6. It’s always a pleasure to come to your blog, b! You have the neatest schytt here!

    I think you’re too kind about my photos, but thank you! I take it as a high compliment coming from someone who’s creativity I really admire.

    • Trust me, Talon, I’m never too kind (ask my sister if you don’t believe me;))

      And thank-you for the compliment as well, if only there was a way for us to collaborate.

      Although it would probably end up benefitting me more than you…I don’t think “WTF was she thinking???” is quite the response you want people to have when looking at your brilliant photos.

  7. Can you put me in touch with the Schytt’s tailor?

  8. I love, love, love all of these albums. They are all on the Casey Kasem top 40 in my head. And Casey Kasem has been stuck in my head since the first glorious moment that I heard his masculine, yet somehow angelic voice fire off an obscenity laced tirade against the mother fucking up-tempo record and the God damn dog dying.
    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fDYK2H0ldbo –Sorry you can’t enjoy it at work.

    Being an aficionado of all of these talented artists, I was hoping that I could turn you on to some of their lesser known work…….

    The Schytts:

    “Schytt happens”
    “When the Schytt Hits the Really Big Fan” A foray into industrial music.
    “I’ve Got a Little (And I Mean Little) Schytt in Me Too” –a song from the wives.
    “Schytt and Simon Shinola” a collaboration.

    Jay Snell

    “Oops….Bobby Parker Knocked me up Again”
    “I’m Having Bobby Parker’s Bastard Son While He is Out Whoring and Drinking.”
    “Not a Girl, Not yet a Woman”

    Mike Adkins

    “Thanks A Lot Rhonda Byrne for Stealing My Fucking Idea”
    “I just got a wristfull of Dove schytt”
    “Thank You for the Adoration”

    Wally Whyton

    “Mum, I Made the Worst Album Covers ever Created List!”
    “Mum, Why Haven’t I gotten Laid Yet?”
    “Mum, Why Does My Face Look Down Syndrome-ish?”
    “Mu…Oh That’s It, I’m Getting a Fucking Job and Moving the Fuck Out of Here.”

    I hope you enjoy these hidden gems!

    • Brilliant as always, Scott. And funny you should mention Casey Kasem, for the longest time I actually thought he was a woman. She/he sounded exactly like my grade 7 Science Teacher, who accidentally inhaled some kind throat-burning substance while she was showing her students how “not” to sniff toxic chemicals from a test tube. Apparently you’re supposed to take your hand and wave it above the tube, rather than stick your nose directly over the top.

      You learn something new everyday…

      Yes, my Company is also anti Youtube, the only videos we’re allowed to watch are the ones where an employee accidentally chops off his right arm and blood goes spurting everywhere, all because he forgot to wear his protective safety equipment in the plant. It’s quite visual, but it’s really important those of us working in the office see it regularly.

      Photocopiers can kill. A lot.

      These songs are tremendous, although I never expected anything less from these talented artists. I am especially fond of the “wristfull of Dove schytt” and all of Wally Whyton’s gems. He makes us see that, when all is said and done, life truly is a battlefield. Which is why a helmet is strongly recommended.

      • Seriously with the 7th grade science teacher? They must all have a common DNA strand or something. MY 7th grade science teacher electrocuted the shit out of himself. He was gone for like 2 weeks. I’m not even kidding.

        You must have a really bad ass photocopier. I wonder how long it will be before someone castrates themselves at the drunken Christmas party?

  9. A wonderful post Bschooled.

    It’s very heartening to see Billboard recognizing decent, family-oriented record albums for a damned change.

    I’ve long been a Wally Whyton fan and even saw him in Dayton during his 1969 “Have you seen my Mum, she seems to have moved” tour. He put on a Hell of a show but had a poor habit of sobbing uncontrollably between songs. That was uncomfortable for everyone and the room pretty much cleared out by 8:15.

    And I have to admit that despite their long hair, flamboyant attire and obvious lack of military service, I have many fond memories of the Schytts. The lyrics were disgraceful and un-American but those lads could write quite a toe-tapping melody.

    Many thanks for the lindy down memory lane, Bschooled. A really top drawer post once again. Well done.

    Your friend,

    Don

    • Don,

      Thank-you for the tremendous compliment. To know that you’re one of the few (if only) people to be familiar with both Wally and the Schytts makes me realize we that have more in common than even I could have imagined!

      Does that mean I should be getting out more? Possibly. Does it mean I live the life of an undeterminable aged old man in a sweater vest? Probably. Regardless, it feels good to know that there’s finally someone out there who appreciates the same things I do.

      (If you tell me that you like Dad’s oatmeal cookies and berating the customer service representatives at Zellers, I think I’m going to pass out!)

      I’m glad you got to see Wally in concert. To be honest I always felt bad for him, seeing as he had a face even a Mother couldn’t love. But I guess you gotta give the guy credit for always putting himself “out there”.

      Because really, it only became an issue when he tried to come back.

      And as for the Schytts, I can just imagine how many toes were tapping to their tunes back in the day. From what I heard, their music is so catchy it even gets those anal political-types going.

      Anyway, thanks again Don. And remember, when it comes to memory lane you can always count on me. Just make sure you’re wearing your sensible lindying shoes (you know how I worry about your hip).

      Always singing your praises (“no, Mrs. Shenkleman, that sound you hear isn’t a cat dying”),

      Bschooled:)

  10. bschooled this was a very entertaining post, i enoyed! thanks!!

  11. Great stuff, bschooled. All of these records have touched my life in very inappropriate ways. Well, not so much the Schytts because no sooner had they introduced themselves than I went on a giggling jag until well after the sun had set on their careers (later that afternoon).

    The most touching experience of all (which will be arriving in book form and Lifetime movie simultaneously, as soon as the lawsuit is settled) came courtesy of Mike Adkins, velour enthusiast and prominent dietician.

    While struggling to make ends meet as a model for Consolidated Thrift Shop’s Christmas catalog, Adkins hit upon the idea of losing weight by eating those things you really like: doves.

    “Who doesn’t like a dove?” he reasoned. “It’s the other other white meat especially on the feathery outside part of it.” Encouraged by some initial success with a certain Oswald Osbourne, who was looking for something to kick the holy trinity of personal demons: booze, drugs and mouthy, overweight children, Adkins proceeded to crank out ad after ad extolling the virtues of cutting carbs while upping your dove intake to “one wedding ceremony per day.”

    There’s a lot more to this story, but you’ll have to wait until the book comes out, at which point I will join Mike by categorically denying everything I just wrote.

    I will, however, point out that he nows spells his last name with a “T” and is currently dead.

    Thanks for the entertainment and comment fodder, bschooled. Keep listening to the musicks. I understand the “kids” are pretty high on this stuff these days.

    • Thank-you CLT.

      For some strange reason I thought you’d take an interest in Mike Adkins professional works.

      Call me psychic, call you “a fighter for the underdog”, call it what you will…I just had a feeling. (thankfully it wasn’t the same kind of feeling I get when the Black-Eyed Peas tell me that tonight’s going to be a good night over and over until I want to punch them repeatedly in the voice box).

      Funny you should mention the dove (if for nothing else than a few hearty laughs and a way for me to transition topics). For some strange reason, that “other other white meat” reminds me of a movie I once saw, called the “Other Other Boleyn Girl”. (must be the contiguous “others” that jogged my memory).

      It’s a great film, but you don’t find out until the very end that she wasn’t really a Boleyn girl at all, but a pre-op transexual with a well-concealed adam’s apple and a fondness for medieval clothing.

      I mean really, who would have guessed it????

      ??

      ?

      Anyway, even though I ruined the end for you, I still recommend you rent it. For the “one-liners” if nothing else.

      And you’re right about one thing. I do like Dove meat. A lot. And as long as those annoying little schytts shits keep sending me ridiculous “messages of peace”, I’ll keep eating them.

      Thanks for stopping by, CLT (and on your Birthday even!). Your highbrow-wit always has a way of getting me to pull out my “thinking cap” (and Lord knows I don’t get my money’s worth out of it at work).

  12. Really B, where do you find the schytt? Classics all. I just got back from Vegas and I could totally see you taking the “Just Making Convo…” act down there. You’ve got the comedic chops, so all you would have to do is show a little tytt.

    Also, I saw on iTunes that there are two bonus tracks on “Thank you for the Dove.”

    “Thank you for the butt plug even though I already have one.”

    and

    “Thank you Uncle Ray for showing me your penis.”

    • FJ!

      Good to see you…I was keeping track of your whereabouts for fear you might either a) fall out of the blogosphere again, or b) end up broke and lying in a ditch somewhere after blowing all your money on the slots and fancy dinners out at the Chicken Ranch.

      Not that I could really see you playing the slots, mind you. You’re way too intellectually gifted for that mindless game.

      Funny you bring up moving to Vegas, though, seeing as I almost did that once.

      When I was young, my parents used to take us to Vegas every year for their our vacation. I remember one year (when I was around 17), I was walking down the street back to my hotel, when this guy came up to me out of nowhere. He started making small talk, and after a few minutes of shooting the schytt, he asked me “So, do you want a job?”

      I thought living in Vegas would be “totally cool”, so without thinking twice (or asking my parents) about it, I said yes. He then gave me a flyer explaining a little about the infamous restaurant I’d be working at.

      Needless to say things didn’t work out.

      Anyway, enough about me.

      I have to tell you that “Thank you for the butt plug even though I already have one” and “Thank you Uncle Ray for showing me your penis,” have both brought me more joy this morning than would be considered “society’s norm”.

      But then again, who are they to judge…

      Thank-you, for that FJ. TGIF indeed.

  13. I love the running vagima theme. I now use that word at least 6 times a day. Yesterday, I rhymed it with “rhyme”. How’s that for cool?
    Ryhma Vagima!

  14. I love the running vagima theme. I now use that word at least 6 times a day. Yesterday, I rhymed it with “rhyme”. How’s that for cool?
    Rhyma Vagima!

  15. Dear Orthodontic Treatment Gone Wild But Later Fixed to Perfection, B

    As you may or may not know, It is, in fact, tremendously difficult being a Teen-Age Girl. But I never made my confessions! so now, with massive amounts of gratitude I’d like to get on with it, if I may:

    I remember High-School as one of the toughest periods (pun intended) of my life. Fighting my sexuality, I chose to wear baggy clothes and listen to acid rock. My mother’s boyfriend cheated on me and my dog got testicular cancer. To top it off, the only boy who wanted to go to prom with me was underdeveloped (I suspect he was a Preterm birth) and I couldn’t get him to impregnate me no matter how hard I tried. I also had a crush on my overweight and overwhelmingly hairy History teacher that turned out later to be gay. We never implemented our love.

    For that, I am sorry and hope to be forgiven.

    Thank you again for allowing me to confess,
    Frankelstache

    • Dear What’s the Frequency Kenneth-Stache,

      It’s good to hear from you, FS. In a good way.

      To be honest, when I wrote about Jay Snell, I was actually thinking about you the whole time. I guess you could call it “a cry for you to cry for help” scenario.

      I’m sorry to hear the grizzly details about your effeminate youth, FS. But remember…everything happens for a reason. Take your fat, gay, hairy history teacher for example. Had you implemented your love with her/him/it?, you may have ended up with a third-sex child, one that possessed exactly one-half of those aforementioned traits. And a moustache.

      Although safe to say he/she/it would have a kick-ass vocabulary…

      Regardless, you don’t need to confess to me. Although I may seem God-like in appearance (thanks to my now-perfect dental work), really, I’m not. The truth is, I have an unsightly mole on my left leg.

      And a third nipple.

      Thank-you for sharing, FS. Your courage is meritorious.

      Your Alpha and Omega,

      Bschooled

  16. Greetings! This site iz the coolest, ‘n I’ve been looking for dis website for a long time ‘n I am so glad I eventually found it.

    I am 24 years old and doing my bachelors at Brown.

    I’m the sort of man who likes to seek brand-new stuff. Right now regrettably I’m having massive earache and I’m utilizing the net as the exclusive way to cure it. I stumbled upon a very brilliant web-ste that discusses an interesting earache home remedy. The web site explains all the steps required to healing it.

    I’m not entirely clear bout how accurate the info given there is. If some people over here who have experience with this stuff can have a peak and give your feedback in the thread it will be good and I’d extremely appreciate it, cauze I’m really suffering right now.

    Thank you for checking it. You guys are great.

    • And a greetings to you too AppepefuP! May I call you, AppepefuP? I sure hope so, because I already have twice.

      Your comment is the coolest comment I have EVER read. I’ve been searching wildly and in vain (wildly and in vain AppepefuP! Do you hear me?) For a comment of this magnitude and viscosity for more than a platypus’s eon. But enough about that. Here’s more about me.

      I am 163 years old and live in a cave. I’m half man/half goat. I eat bachelors for breakfast and my favorite TV show is The Bachelorette. It’s really a slice of heaven. Or pizza. Both can be fun! Right?

      I’m also the sort of half man/half goat who likes to meet half women/half goat friends. Do you have any? I’ll need names and phone numbers AppepefuP! – do you hear me? Names and phone numbers!

      Right now, regrettably I’m having a massive groin maul. Oh sure, it sounds fun, but without a merkin it just doesn’t work. You know what I’m saying? I tried using a jerkin, but really, who do I think I am? Thomas More – Renaissance English writer and Catholic martyr? Well, maybe I do. But I don’t see how that’s any of your business. Anyway, I’m utilizing the internet as the exclusive way to cure it. I stumbled upon a very brilliant web-site that discusses an interesting groin maul remedy – and some real tasty vomit recipes. You should check it out. http://www.soimmature.com/sub_pages/all_thumb_subs/page_mega_vomit.html

      I’m not entirely clear about how tasty eating vomit is. I’ll leave that to you decide. Let me know, pal! Can I call you, pal? AppepefuP is so hard to spell! Great. Thank you for letting me call you pal. It’s great to be pals. Don’t forget to send me the half women/half goat phone numbers and names. Thanks pal. You’re the bestest.

      • AppepefuP!

        First of all, I have to say I’m so glad you eventually found my site as well. I was kind of worried, especially since the directions I gave you weren’t all that clear (When I said turn right at the second set of cyberlights, I meant my right, not yours), but it doesn’t matter now, because you’re here! Or should I say “you’re hear!” (Ha! Get it? Hear? Just a little ‘earache home remedy’ humor for you.)

        I have to be honest, Alan isn’t giving himself enough credit. He may be 163 years old, but he doesn’t look a day over 139. And he’s more like 60/40 man/goat.

        When you talk to your half-goat half-lady friends about him, tell them that it’s only his lower half that’s goat-like. Oh, and try to casually bring up the fact that he makes his own cheese. (Trust me, lady goats love that kind of shit).

        And even though Alan can’t vouch for the flavor of the vomit, I can. And I have to say it tastes exactly how vomit should taste. Vomity. And kind of like an amalgamation of all the foods you’ve eaten in the past day that didn’t have a chance to digest.

        Granted, it’s not for everyone, but I like it.

        Anyway, I just want to thank-you for what you said about my site. Although I have no doubt in my mind that there iz even more coolest sites out there in dis blogosphere, I can’t help but feel flattered. And honored. And extremely deserving of your praise.

        Hope to “hear” (Ha!) from you again, AppenfuP, and I hope you figure out bout how accurate the info given there is, cauze I really hate to know that people are out there suffering. Especially people like you, who have been looking for my site forever!

        Your new friend,
        Bschooled

  17. Ruiffcixmoito says:

    Hi Person
    My name is Skillet. I thank you all for making me feel welcome and I am excited to be part of this massive and emergent forum of nice individuals. I’ve just joined today. I will be ecstatic to assist others that need it and offer advice where possible. In regards to internet promoting, I moreover hope to be taught new things. I enjoy affiliate marketing and I’m thankful I’ve been bitten by the affiliate marketing bug. In order to promote my products, I did nearly all of my promoting off line. When it involves new ideas on net promoting, I am continually open to brand new ideas. God Bless and Thanks for having me.

    • Hi Skillet,

      My name is Person too, but you can call per – for short. Like you I am excited and ecstatic, only I tend to make this point by using frequent exclamation marks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Is it a literary crutch? Well, that’s not really any of your business, so can we please move on? Anyway, what makes me really excited and ecstatic is knowing that one day I may learn how to golf. I mean internet promotion and marketing and God is all fine and dandy for someone who is an eyesore – or has sore eyes – but I want to don the fashions of the links. Did you know that golf has had an important and noble impact on men’s dressing habits? I sure didn’t until I just made that up. There are some heathens who might say that the sartorial and loud plaids and shocking primary colors came to epitomize the questionable fashion sense of many duffers. But not me. Even though I just said it. But I didn’t. And you can quote me on that. But don’t. I am continually contradicting myself and open on Sundays. Praise Buddha and pass the cheese.

      • Skillet! Alan (aka. Per)! I’m so glad you both stopped by, really, your timing couldn’t have been better.

        Skillet, I want you to know that you’ll always feel welcome at my massive and emerging form of nice individuals. Really, you’re the reason this form of nice individuals have become so massive and emergent. Because let’s face it; if it weren’t for you, our fish fillets would be grossly undercooked, and that would turn us all into mean and emaciated individuals.

        Alan is right, it really isn’t any of your business whether his exclamation marks are just a literary crutch. As long as he can get from point A to point B, that’s all that matters. He’s also right about the something something heathens, but since I haven’t had a chance to Google how right he is, for now we’ll just have to trust him on that one. And then quote him on it. Only without really quoting him on it, you know? Sorry, of course you would know. You’re a freaking skillet for Ali Baba’s sake!

        I will teach you some new things tomorrow, but today I want you to go to the Doctor and get those affiliate marketing bug bites checked out. I wouldn’t be surprised if he ends up giving you a rabies shot. Not to sound rude or anything, but they really do look repulsive.

        Now for Tom Cruise/John Tesh’s sake, pass the cheese. And the non-stick cooking spray.

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