Sh!t that makes you most f@cking angry

Shield your childrens’ eyes. Lead the elderly into the next room. Save the innocent now. LND is about to get profane. If you don’t like the potty mouth, then what the fuck are you doing reading Late Night Debates in the first place?

Why all the warnings? Because this LND staffer is having a baaaaaad fucking week. I just shat away $11,750 selling my old house (thanks for flooding the market with foreclosures, all you financial fucktards!), I got rear-ended by some New Jersey dickwagon and my dog ate a bunch of anti-inflamatories and had to get her stomach pumped full of charcoal to not die (for an additional cool $400) – and that was just Monday. And, to think, I’m going to Atlantic City this weekend. I’m sure that’s going to turn out well (To my friends: If I die at the hands of angry Eastern European strippers, avenge me.)

Before you offer me some cheese with all that whine, let me A) offer my pre-emptive “shut the fuck up” and B) concede that I understand there are plenty of folks who have it worse. I could be this guy. And you know what Mr. Tree Man is sitting there thinking? At least I’m not from Haiti.

What I’m trying to say is I’m not here to whine. I’m here to be angry. I’m fucking angrier than a constipated Lewis Black stuck in a rehab clinic with a strict no hookers policy. I’m angrier than Lou Ferrigno in Hulk makeup at ComicCon being asked by a 12-year-old if he’s ever met the real Hulk, Eric Bana. I’m angrier than…Oh, what? You get the point? Fuck you! I’m angrier than Dick Cheney after … well, I’m just angrier than Dick Cheney. That’s pretty goddamn angry, people.

And when I’m this pissed off, I just want to get more pissed off thinking about shit that pisses me off the most. So harness the rage, kick a puppy and soak in my flooding tub of darkness, bitches. Here is just a sampling of the things that really grind my gears:

That a crazy asshole killed Auburn’s 130-year-old live oaks on Toomer’s Corner


The greatest tradition I have ever experienced this side of Christmas is what takes place in Auburn, Ala., at a little intersection in the prettiest little village on the plains called Toomer’s Corner following every victory of the Auburn Tigers football team. The masses descend to unleash thousands of rolls of toilet paper in celebration. It’s a uniquely college experience, it’s euphoric, it’s as inhibitionless as showing your titties at Mardi Gras. It will also be no more.

Some crazy Bear Bryant-worshipping fucknad from the backsticks of Buttrape, Alabama, decided to act on a 20-year-old grudge by dumping enough herbicide on the famous 130-year-old trees to kill ’em dead. If I could punish this redneck dipshit, I’d just desecrate his Bear Bryant sex doll. But I hope the authorities of Alabama just set him free because Auburn has almost as many batshit crazy banjo-playing, mother fucking, sister fingering, Deliverence-looking fans as Alabama and I imagine they have something a little less penitentiary and a little more penetration in mind for the Tide Tree Poisoner.

That Glen ‘Big Baby’ Davis is 6’9 and can’t dunk

Seriously, Big Baby? I am 6’3, white and sit at a desk all day, and I can throw down a volleyball on a regulation 10 foot rim. Your horrific attempt at a breakaway dunk is pathetic enough to just make me sad, but the fact that you are 6’9 makes that perhaps the most significant dunk fail in NBA history.

Big Baby is a fairly lovable guy. He cries when Kevin Garnett gets mad at him. He looks like Shrek. He seems like the kind of guy who would start giggling if you whispered the word “poop” in his ear. But this isn’t about Baby. This is about being a 6’9 professional basketball player with less ups than Stephen Hawking.

John Boehner’s crying rag

For fuck’s sake, man! You’re the fucking Speaker of the House of fucking Representatives! Man the fuck up and stop crying. You’re not winning hearts and votes with your fake ass routine. You just look like a walking advertisement for lithium. Every politician on the planet knows you save your big cry for the press conference after you get caught cheating on your wife, but this fucking douchebag is out there crying over votes to make Ronald Reagan’s birthday a national holiday. Man, I hate that fucking guy.

New Jersey

Fuck you for wasting 90 minutes of my life on the way from Philadelphia to New York, you peanut-in-a-piece-of-shit looking waste of space. The only thing worse than the industrial stink haze that hangs in your air like the smell of vagina in a hot room after sex is your people. To experience the giant hair, orange skin and grating voice of the average New Jerseyan is to understand why the state leads the nation in number of people committing suicide by throwing themselves in front of commuter trains.


Cell phones

Just because I own a cell phone does not mean I am obligated to talk to you when you call me. The only thing I hate more than cell phones – people that won’t stop playing with their phones when you’re around them. Oh, no, don’t mind me, iPhone guy. I’ll just sit here and rub soy sauce on my balls while you message 17 people who are also probably acting like assfaces and ignoring the real life people sitting next to them.


Unnecessary sequels

Just stop already. Fuck me!





When the store is sold out of delicious Totino’s frozen pizzas

Goddammit, I am actually getting angrier just thinking about this.








Want to vote on which of these things make you the most angry? Fuck you – I’m too mad to put up a poll. Put up your own fucking poll.


One Response

  1. Not joke. I am truly laughing out loud(I’m not on the phone, so no LOL). You go Jay! Good luck in AC. And by the way, that ‘Bama fan pissed me off too. I’m a Ga. fan, but that is just carrying shit a little to far. Before the trees die, he should be hung by his nuts from them and not let lose ’til he can touch the ground!!

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