They never knew what hit 'em

Hey folks, just so you know, tomorrow (and every 22nd day of the month thereafter) is Disco Day at Burt Reynolds' Mustache. Stop by, check it out, tell everyone how much you love it...'cuz you know you do.

Kitchen counter confessions

Another conversation with the Missus:

The scene: I've just spilled some ketchup on the floor after trying to pour it onto the hot link burrito* I just made.

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Mrs. Disco: Why don't you just open it up (the burrito) and pour it in?

Me: It's already closed, it's too late to turn back.

Mrs. Disco: It's a shame they lock those things.

Me: Don't focus on the past.


*Patent Pending

Let's see just how deep the rabbit hole goes...

Well, it's been a long two months with no new posts up on The Disco. The only people reading my blog now are spammers and anyone that's done a search for "Amy Winehouse licking Tyler Perry's sphincter". I aim to change all that folks! It's a brand new day under the Disco's bright lights, and I'm cleaning house. I'd also like to ask for input from any readers still stopping by to see what's new. I'm thinking of starting a parenting column relating my day to day experiences being a single parent and answering any parenting questions the blogosphere at large may have. What do you think? Of course I'll still maintain the same oh so hilarious posts you've come to expect from the Lord of the Disco, but I'd like to give something back to the blogging community that made me the white hot blogger star I was (for about 9.2 minutes).

As my regular readers know, I have two daughters ages 12 and 10. My 12 year old had her first school dance (which Kristine and I were foolish enough to volunteer to chaperone) about a month ago with her next one coming up this Friday. Wanna know what it was like chaperoning a dance attended by about 300 preteens? Imagine a herd of cattle jacked up on Mountain Dew & Sour Patch Kids being stuffed into an auditorium after running around a yard all day. Now play some of the shittiest hip hop on today's radio, add two bewildered parents and mix till sweaty and smelly. Now I'm no prude, but if I see another 12 year old girl freaking on another 12 year old girl, I just might tazer someone. As a matter of fact, if I see any boy or girl get within 2 feet of each other, I'm makin' with the pepper spray. Gall derned hormonal douchebags.

And now we're set to do it all over again. "Why, oh Lord of the Disco, wouldst thou invite such torture upon thine noble self?" you may ask.

Shit homey, I'm an awesome parent, that's why.

Take The Disco with you!

Hey folks, you can now get the official unoffical Hispanic! At the Disco T-shirts. Several sizes are available, from Small to 2XL, only one color (Olive Green) available at the moment. It's 100% cotton and made by the tender loving care. Just wearing the shirt actually increases male muscle mass by 25% and increases female bra size by 2 cups. I could be lying about that, but you'll have to buy one to prove me wrong. It's designed by the fine folks at Ripple Junction and available at the usual screen T hot spot (here's a hint: If you have more piercings than you have body cavities, you'd have no problem getting a job there).

Now you have a valid reason for that smug look on your face. Feel free to bitch slap anyone that has the nerve to ask you what your t-shirt "means".

Offsprung part Deux

Hey folks, apparently their was a problem with Offsprungs site yesterday so the link I posted for my second post was broken. I know, I know, you were heartbroken. But it's fixed now! Rejoice, my vassals! Now go forth and clicketh the linketh and bestow some love upon my codpiece.

Hispanic!At the Disco on Offsprung

Offsprung

Behold, lovers of all things Disco, I hath gone forth and mulitplied. I have begun posting over at Offsprung, so please feel free to neglect your jobs, family, and whatever deity you worship to head on over there and leave some comments for the Lord of the Disco:

Hispanic! at the Disco on Offsprung

Reverse Darwinism

New York Times

GERONIMO, Tex. — Levi Draher, 16, walked to the front of the Navarro High School gym in early March and picked up the microphone before a hushed audience of fellow teenagers.

Levi was found by his mother last Oct. 28, clinically dead, suspended on a rope he had slung across a bunk-bed frame. He had pushed his neck onto the rope, he told the rapt audience, aiming to achieve a surging rush as his brain was starved and then replenished with blood just before the point of unconsciousness.

“I did it because it felt good and I didn’t think I’d get caught,” said Levi, a slow-talking, sardonic skateboarder and hockey player from San Antonio. “Do I consider myself a miracle?” asked Levi, who told the students he had played the game three times before his accident. “Yes, I do.”

What. The. FUCK?!

No, you backwater, bottom feeding, knuckle dragger. You are not, by any stretch of the imagination a miracle. A miracle is a hand grenade landing at your feet and not exploding. A miracle is a bus hitting you at 40 mph and you survive without a scratch. A miracle is Perez Hilton not being crushed by a meteor.

You are evolution's version of "Punk'd". You intentionally choke yourself to get high, almost die and call yourself a miracle. Oh, did anyone catch the fact that this douchebag has done this three times before? Yeah, three times.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah. Fuck you Levi Draher. Your parents should be dragged out into the streat so they can watch you be hung to ensure you don't come back this time. Maybe your 18 year old dad will think twice before putting his seed inside the next uterus that stumbles out of a crack house at 4am.

By the way, if anyone is wondering what that dog is thinking:

Dog: I eat my own feces and I have a higher IQ than this fucktard.