Dear lazy maggot commenter fucks, thank you sincerely for adding me to most of your lists of your favorite writers at this shit rag digital zine that doesnt even have the balls enough to kill a defenseless tree for paper to print on. I would, however, enjoy to an even greater extent the suckling of my cock and balls in all of your tantalizing wet mouths instead of the verbal typewritten rimjobs that seem to be your forte. And do a fucking sit-up already. Other than Joe Kickass, I bet most of you would have trouble knowing where your own dicks were if Christine didnt occasionally remove one of them from her ass. Which reminds me, Victor French, does the road to heaven really involve Michael Landons corpse and a rusty trombone, because thats pretty foul even in my book. But seriously, I love you all enough that I would actually waste a very expensive bullet from my MP5 to assassinate each one of you as painlessly as possible, except of course for deuce who I know deep down wants to go out like a man in a toe to toe fist fight where I will shatter his trachea with elbow. Oh, and welcome back STEVE, you fucking cock-whore, anal skin cock sheath. If you so much as look at my comment board sideways, I will break off your pinky and shove it into your cranium through your nasal cavity in an attempt to give you the worlds first coke nail lobotomy. Atlas by far is my favorite of you key punching luddites, because I am pretty sure he is the only one of you that actually reads my reviews and doesnt just skip to the question of the week in hopes of being the first to make some witty reply that may glorify them above the rest of you who are busy posting away on these boards instead of doing their goddamned jobs. Or maybe I am just saying that to trick him into actually reading a review. Tom A, by the way is one of the only commenters that actually replied when my actual question of the week was what you lazy shits decided to wait four months and reply to on an article about Kimmy fucking Gibbler. By the way, Milton, Max, and Patrick you guys are doomed to anonymity for having picked such shitty names. Its not that your comments suck so much as you do. I bet you fuckers always selected the wizard on Gauntlet too. Wizard shot the food!
As for my favorite writers I have to put Lamovsky up at the top because the guy is just smarter than all the rest of us. Plus he is the first one to read every article since he does most of the copy editing around here, which makes the rest of us look like we can actually speak the King's English. And for those who dont think hes funny, you need to go back and read the NBA All-Ugly Team which is one of the most read and most linked articles this site has ever had. Charlie gets big props for the Pope interview and having the balls to openly admit to the world that he has a problem with the size of his penis. BDC gets mad props too, not just because I would fuck her sideways into a coma while pretending she was Scarlett Boing Johansson, but as you readers mentioned, it is nice to have a womens perspective at a site that is typically dominated by idiotic guy talk about sports and upper deckers. Hofman, Kiley, M Thomas L, McCoy, Hagges, Harvey and Zumock, all get the 10-gun salute for being consistently solid. And Juan Turlington is one of my newer favorites around here. Of course I think I deserve the number one spot because I have been the only writer here to take on a weekly column every single week for over a year now.
Please take note of who is not on my list. Thats right, your lord and savior Mike Fucking Polk. Fuck him and the Striped Shirt he rode in on. That guy is the biggest fucking hack and Im pretty sure hes got you all fooled. He couldnt write his way out of a brown paper bag with Shakespeares quill and a box of Ohio blue tip matches. I really dont even know what that means. And of course I am completely yanking your chain. I just wanted to see who was actually reading this diatribe. The plucky Polkster consistently turns in classic gems like that pedophile thing from last week that cracked my shit up. But, regardless of how good he is leave Polk off of your fucking lists. We all know he is the shit around here and the reason most of you started reading this site. But we have to deal with the guy. And if you keep telling him how fucking good he is, some Hollywood asshole is gonna swoop down and offer that fuck a TV show or something and then your dumb asses will never get to read him again. At least not without commercials. Not to mention that the guy might start having neck problems if you guys keep blowing his head up. You know, Red Bull actually sent the Phat Phree 12 cases of thier psycho juice because of the Striped Shirt thing. I mean seriously, the guy is so good that he can make fun of a product and then receive copious amounts of it gratis. You know how expensive that shit is? I shouldnt be insulting the commenters; I should be mentioning how much I hate that Maybach that Donald Trump rides around in. But, I hear tale that in the near future Polk, Charlie, Lamovsky and some of the other featured writers will be rocking bi-weekly columns too, so well see if they can handle being in the line of fire on a regular basis like yours truly.
Thats more name-dropping and inside dirt than any of you shiftless horse apples even remotely deserve, so lets get to the reviews.
Five Ears for awesome shit that makes me want to fight, fuck or kill! Four Ears for well above average stuff that gives me a chubby Three Ears for well-rounded but average... like a white girl's ass Two Ears for subpar material that makes my crotch itch One Ear for shit that makes me want to fight, fuck, or kill for the wrong reasons. An added testicle for shit that is in between.
I dont know how he does it, but Antonio Banderas always manages to look like he just got out of the fucking shower. Its like the man has a thunderstorm inside his trailer. He can pop on to the set at any time and look like he just battled a monsoon. The frightening thing is that it cant possible be water that gives his hair lusty Latin shine. Which of course means it could be only one thing- Vaseline. That right, the substance that used to be reserved to use by black folks in the south with ashy elbows and white girls who needed to smile for 3 straight hours during the local four H Junior Miss beauty pageant by shining their teeth with the petroleum based goo, has now found its way into the hair of the Latino community. And as Banderas has proved by landing a Kellie Pickler level stupid blonde in Melanie Griffith, the shit actually works. Sadly for the rest of us this means a continued dependence on the foreign oil byproduct that is used to make what we call in the Corps prison jelly.
Ever since Saturday Night Fever weve had to endure these kinds of dance off movies. From Flashdance to You Got Served, Dirty Dancing to Strictly Ballroom, some queer keeps wanting to subject us to the perceived coolness of some type of dancing. But since the days of filling a dance card to get your dick wet are long over what is the point? If you are not in junior high, you shouldnt need to dance with a chick to get some ass unless you are the ugliest mother fucker in the room. I dont care if its salsa or breakdance, its all just simulated fucking. And old Napalm believes in cutting out the middleman as much as possible. Yes, kids dancing with the afterschool teacher instead of taking drugs and fucking like real kids. See it if you are gay. Nuff said.
Now this is what high school is really about, sex, power, and drugs. My biggest complaint however is that I finally get to see that hot Aussie chick from Lost without the baby in tow and she ends up being the missing girlfriend who turns up dead shortly thereafter. Boo. But the noir-ish twists and turns that play teens smarter and sharper than Kevin Spacey in the Usual Suspects makes the stylish film unfold like a Thai hooker staring at a 100 dollar bill. In other words it all happens fast and you have absolutely no idea what you are getting yourself in to. And then theres Lukas Haas. You know that weird eared freak boy from Witness and Solar Babies. Somehow he manages to turn in a Crispin Glover like performance as the aging (26) local boss, The Pin, who apparently runs shit from his parents converted basement. Everything Heathers said about how high school girls feel about each with dark satire this film says about the overall youth experience with Maltese Falcon caliber style and dialogue. Hands down worth your time.
I liked this idea a lot better when it was reserved to the pages of the Jesse and M Thomas Ls Phat Phree articles The Weekend Warrior. Im not saying they stole the idea from The Phat Phree or anything, because sadly theyve probably been working on this movie for years already, but if you are gonna do a movie about guys who arent good at sports this just aint the way to do it. The dude that thinks he is a baller and talks mad game, but couldnt back it up if he was the twelfth member of the dream team, is funny. But a bunch of clowns doing slapstick prat falls on the diamond is about as exciting to me as biscuits with no gravy. It goes to show you that just because an idea is good doesnt mean that it will stay good. Especially if you expect Deuce Bigelow, Joe Dirt and Napoleon Dynamite to hold that mother fucker up. They couldnt hold up my balls with a fork lift. In fact I can count two times I have collectively laughed at the three of them put together. To me letting these three sidekick clowns have a movie is like letting Tattoo, Cooter and the Wonder Twins have their own TV show. Does anyone honestly laugh at Rob Schneider other than that uncomfortable chuckle that acknowledges your disbelief at the fact that he gets paid to do this shit? Please tell me I am an asshole and this is the movie you have been waiting for your whole life. If you do I will immediately drive my ass to the nearest Blockbuster, rent Judge Dredd, and laugh heartily at every Rob Schneider joke from now until Adam Sandler runs out of money to help this prick. I can honestly say that Id rather watch a double feature with Larry The Cable Guy and Pride and Prejudice before ever seeing this insult to comedy again.
I always liked her name. Maybe because I imagine a beautiful, soft, wet labia, when I think of it. But then I am jolted back into reality when I realize Pinks face, with Sugar Shane Mosleys nose and all, is attached to the other end. I really believe Pink could win a stone jaw contest against Tango and Cashs Bobby ZDar. But cock softening looks aside, I have to admit that there is something about Pink that I appreciate. I think its the fact that she can right a fuck you song and good as any UTFO Roxanne dis. Take for instance my new favorite song this week U & Ur Hand. Pink is basically telling some dude that is trying to hit on her that hes got a better chance of giving his stones a five knuckle shuffle than slipping into her fur hut. And she does it with out the tongue in cheek "Threes Company" double entendres like Britney or X-tina. I mean you can call a spade a spade or you can sing about clubs, but I always have respect for a shitty artist when theyve at least got some heart. Im not talking about Nancy Wilson Heart either even though Pink tries her best to rock like new incarnation of Joan Jett, Blondie, and Pat Benatar. Im just talking about the gumption to infuse your art with a bit of your ugly self like Pink does. Please dont mistake this for a good review, because half of the songs on this album were crafted by the same money grubbing producers that constructed hits for Kelly Clarkson, Avril Lavigne, and Britney Spears that sound like they were processed at the same packing plant that figures out how to make those Jack in the Box hamburgers that are half grains and cereals and the other half horse meat. Pink's at least got balls though so I'm giving her the rare "two dislocated testicle" rating.
1. So some of you think you could write for the site? Id love to say go ahead give it a shot, but when my drill sergeant, Bootie, first put us on the firing range he gave us one bullet and a .22 rifle, not a loaded M-16. So I challenge you all to come up with the best title that you can think of for a Phat Phree article. Writers are eligible for this question too.
2. Yesterday, I broke out the heavy-sixer and rocked some Comabt, Adventure, and some Mule, so Id like to know what were your favorite carts from back in the day. If you say Night Driver I will beat your like Paula Abdul at a party.
(Translation, Napalm found his old Atari 2600 and played some ancient video games. He wants to know what old school Atari games you think were the best? And don't say something he doesn't like because he might affect bodily harm upon you. -Editor PS Napalm really does love his reader's he just show it with violence and insults.)
Boy, I've Got to Stop Skipping TPP on Fridays Posted: 4/10/2006by: Tom A Although it's probably too late, I'd like to see that one pretty solid writer do this article:
"C'mon, Look at My Striped Shirt. Please? Someone?" - detailing how Stripe Shirt Guy's momentum has really waned since we last heard form him.
And then someone could note that it's derivative. No Doubt. Posted: 4/8/2006by: observant Max is probably the dumbest sack of shit I've ever seen comment on this site. I don't log on all that much, but every time I do, He's typed something that is worth about half a shit. I can't stand people that do not understand that they are not funny. Some asshole along the way lied to them, and now we (us) have to suffer for it. Fuck. I vote for Victor French in 2012. At least he's original. GRB Posted: 4/7/2006by: Joe Kickass Sweet! Then, by extension, you're through commenting on them too. Holy shit Posted: 4/7/2006by: GRB Now I know that these movie reviews do truly suck fucking balls. Any review that gives more than a testicle to "Take The Lead" is a total piece of shit. Napalm, you come on here, talk alot of shit about your alleged military time, then give a peice of shit dancing movie that kind of rating? WTF! What the hell did you do in the military, clean latrines with your tongue? I'm truly done reading these. oh, right Posted: 4/7/2006by: Max Sorry Bruno, I'm all out of brain fuel. Fucking week won't end. I gotta get out of here... Max Posted: 4/7/2006by: Bruno Are you missing something? I'm pretty sure the exchange was toungue-in-cheek.
I attempted to get Fat and Poor to have his ass kicked by a large black man in Chicago. As that was intended to be as easy to sniff out as Victor's hat, he did so and told me to go find a 6'4", 260-lb Irishman. Don't think either one of us were really trying to be tough guys there.
Right now, my main concern is drying off my hammer -- accidentally let it unfurl all the way at the urinal again. Hate when that happens. A fight a fight Posted: 4/7/2006by: Christine a black against a white. . . if bruno don't win. . . we all jump in!!!! That was actually a saying in my neighborhood when I was young. . the ending varied quite a bit though.
I am off to start the weekend folks. Have a pleasant weekend everyone. I love you all. seriously. . I do. Except you fat and poor you pussy. You make me want to shun my irish roots. New article idea Posted: 4/7/2006by: Max Bruno vs. Fat and Poor: Two Short D-Bags Go On The Phat Phree Message Boards And Act Like They're Boxers You got it Posted: 4/7/2006by: Fat and Poor Sweet, will do Bruno, I'm a 6'4" Irish guy with pretty short hair, I weight about 260. You probably won't be concious by then, but I'll still mention the plane. Nice! Posted: 4/7/2006by: Bphats "Especially if you expect Deuce Bigelow, Joe Dirt and Napoleon Dynamite to hold that mother fucker up. They couldnt hold up my balls with a fork lift."
Possibly the funniest line Napalm has ever written. How could those three idiots figure out how to work a forklift?
Five Ears for awesome shit that makes me want to fight, fuck or kill! 
Four Ears for well above average stuff that gives me a chubby
Three Ears for well-rounded but average... like a white girl's ass
Two Ears for subpar material that makes my crotch itch
One Ear for shit that makes me want to fight, fuck, or kill for the wrong reasons.
An added testicle for shit that is in between.
I dont know how he does it, but Antonio Banderas always manages to look like he just got out of the fucking shower. Its like the man has a thunderstorm inside his trailer. He can pop on to the set at any time and look like he just battled a monsoon. The frightening thing is that it cant possible be water that gives his hair lusty Latin shine. Which of course means it could be only one thing- Vaseline. That right, the substance that used to be reserved to use by black folks in the south with ashy elbows and white girls who needed to smile for 3 straight hours during the local four H Junior Miss beauty pageant by shining their teeth with the petroleum based goo, has now found its way into the hair of the Latino community. And as Banderas has proved by landing a Kellie Pickler level stupid blonde in Melanie Griffith, the shit actually works. Sadly for the rest of us this means a continued dependence on the foreign oil byproduct that is used to make what we call in the Corps prison jelly.
Now this is what high school is really about, sex, power, and drugs. My biggest complaint however is that I finally get to see that hot Aussie chick from Lost without the baby in tow and she ends up being the missing girlfriend who turns up dead shortly thereafter. Boo. But the noir-ish twists and turns that play teens smarter and sharper than Kevin Spacey in the Usual Suspects makes the stylish film unfold like a Thai hooker staring at a 100 dollar bill. In other words it all happens fast and you have absolutely no idea what you are getting yourself in to. And then theres Lukas Haas. You know that weird eared freak boy from Witness and Solar Babies. Somehow he manages to turn in a Crispin Glover like performance as the aging (26) local boss, The Pin, who apparently runs shit from his parents converted basement. Everything Heathers said about how high school girls feel about each with dark satire this film says about the overall youth experience with Maltese Falcon caliber style and dialogue. Hands down worth your time.
I liked this idea a lot better when it was reserved to the pages of the Jesse and M Thomas Ls Phat Phree articles The Weekend Warrior. Im not saying they stole the idea from The Phat Phree or anything, because sadly theyve probably been working on this movie for years already, but if you are gonna do a movie about guys who arent good at sports this just aint the way to do it. The dude that thinks he is a baller and talks mad game, but couldnt back it up if he was the twelfth member of the dream team, is funny. But a bunch of clowns doing slapstick prat falls on the diamond is about as exciting to me as biscuits with no gravy. It goes to show you that just because an idea is good doesnt mean that it will stay good. Especially if you expect Deuce Bigelow, Joe Dirt and Napoleon Dynamite to hold that mother fucker up. They couldnt hold up my balls with a fork lift. In fact I can count two times I have collectively laughed at the three of them put together. To me letting these three sidekick clowns have a movie is like letting Tattoo, Cooter and the Wonder Twins have their own TV show. Does anyone honestly laugh at Rob Schneider other than that uncomfortable chuckle that acknowledges your disbelief at the fact that he gets paid to do this shit? Please tell me I am an asshole and this is the movie you have been waiting for your whole life. If you do I will immediately drive my ass to the nearest Blockbuster, rent Judge Dredd, and laugh heartily at every Rob Schneider joke from now until Adam Sandler runs out of money to help this prick. I can honestly say that Id rather watch a double feature with Larry The Cable Guy and Pride and Prejudice before ever seeing this insult to comedy again.
I always liked her name. Maybe because I imagine a beautiful, soft, wet labia, when I think of it. But then I am jolted back into reality when I realize Pinks face, with Sugar Shane Mosleys nose and all, is attached to the other end. I really believe Pink could win a stone jaw contest against Tango and Cashs Bobby ZDar. But cock softening looks aside, I have to admit that there is something about Pink that I appreciate. I think its the fact that she can right a fuck you song and good as any UTFO Roxanne dis. Take for instance my new favorite song this week U & Ur Hand. Pink is basically telling some dude that is trying to hit on her that hes got a better chance of giving his stones a five knuckle shuffle than slipping into her fur hut. And she does it with out the tongue in cheek "Threes Company" double entendres like Britney or X-tina. I mean you can call a spade a spade or you can sing about clubs, but I always have respect for a shitty artist when theyve at least got some heart. Im not talking about Nancy Wilson Heart either even though Pink tries her best to rock like new incarnation of Joan Jett, Blondie, and Pat Benatar. Im just talking about the gumption to infuse your art with a bit of your ugly self like Pink does. Please dont mistake this for a good review, because half of the songs on this album were crafted by the same money grubbing producers that constructed hits for Kelly Clarkson, Avril Lavigne, and Britney Spears that sound like they were processed at the same packing plant that figures out how to make those Jack in the Box hamburgers that are half grains and cereals and the other half horse meat. Pink's at least got balls though so I'm giving her the rare "two dislocated testicle" rating.
