Sitched

This is a sitchy column where average dudes are free to vent about their respective sitches. It could also be a competition where the winner is actually the loser and visa versa. You get an automatic 100 sitch points for any jail time served and 10 sitch points per day that you are under investigation. A divorce gives you an automatic 1,000 sitch points just for an attempt, regardless of the outcome. Ungainful unemployment earns a yet to be determined amount of sitch points. Having insane Guarani people after your blood has to be worth at least 500 sitch points. The easiest way to earn sitch points, however is to run out of beer. If you run out of beer you get 10,000 sitch points.

Room in Ice Hotel in Sweden

Dudes Using Spud Bar To Chop Out Ice

from the grave of an LA legend...

It wasn't a hard decision

A redneck by conscious choice

Dreaming o

Check out my hot wife!

Now Were Talking!

Note the Power Master Version. This came out for very short time in the early 90s. They pulled it because people complained that somehow black youths would feel empowered by drinking this brew. A friend of mine from east Germany likened Colt 45 to his favorite beer at home.

Salud!

Mira! Pollo!

Say Hello to DFL Minnesota Senator Chuck Wiger (That's pronounced wigger)!

Notice the wig? It looks pretty good here actually. You should have seen it when this dude started charging up my driveway the other day. I was totally wigging hardcore about his wig that was flying around on his head, when he introduced himself and asked for my support, I said with a sort of laugh, "Oh, you're Chuck Wiger."

Then a look of totally being wigged out came over his face and he bolted. I was drunk and high at the time, so the meeting was very appropriate but short. I totally wigged out Chuck Wigger and his wig.

Hey <0, nice six toed cat. Where does the name come from. Oh yeah, and what are the lyrics to the "MASH" theme song again?

Oso, I got two forties of Colt 45 today with Cuz Ed. The Asian at the counter asked me if it was my desert. Of course I said yeah, but could not figure out how he knew that I just ate, and that this WAS my dessert. Then I remembered that I was in the ghetto with a toothpick in my mouth.

I opted for the health club instead of having my dessert. It's just chillin' in the fridge. I'll let you know how it all turns out.

Interesting Chart