Archive for December, 2008

The first sign you’re gay

My grandma always tells me to eat black-eyed peas on New Year’s Day because it’s supposed to bring good luck. I think I’m going to take her advice this year.

In the past month, my digital camera, television and ankle have all broken.

Someone hand me some hot sauce and a fork. 

Stupidity Tax Offense: Saying “See ya next year,” as you leave work on December 31st. – Cha Ching! – $10. – Thanks, Bob Vila.

I could have sworn I already included this one because it’s one of the stupidest things I hear all year. And I hear a lot of stupid shit.

Benny’s New Year’s Resolutions (not in any particular order):

* Get a new digital camera
* Get a new television
* Quit walking on my broken ankle
* Get my pee & cum pill prescriptions filled
* Get a job
* Get below 175 lbs.
* Quit beating my dick like it owes me money
* Get laid
* Create a line of T-shirts and Koozies to sell on the SOB
* Clean the Saab
* Win the lottery

Let’s get into it! – Get stupid!

Happy Birthday, Sheila!

I wanted to make a new post this morning for a couple of reasons. First, it’s Sheila E.’s birthday. Second, I had to get rid of that disgusting ass picture from the first thing people see on the SOB.

Some interesting things you may not know about Sheila E.

– Lived in Minnesota for a year and every day would walk through a chicken coup with a basket to hand pick eggs

– Absolutely despises Minnesota

– Has driven two hours for Taco John’s

– Goes to the grocery store with a list that contains nothing but different kinds of cheese

– Broke up with a boyfriend while shopping for a new refrigerator. When he asked what color she liked, she responded by saying, “It doesn’t matter. I won’t be around to use it.” Ouch.

– Still has her Catholic high school uniform – and it still fits

– One night I accused her of staring at me across a bar like a teenage girl gazing at a Shaun Cassidy poster (Dani-girl, if you don’t know who Shaun Cassidy is, Google it)

Happy Kwanzaa, Issac. Here’s hoping the MAN doesn’t keep you down in 2009. Wait a minute – after the inauguration, you will be the MAN. 

WTF did you just say?

Have you ever gone home for a ‘Nooner’ at lunch – by yourself?

Me neither.

These apples are delicious! “As a matter of fact they are,” she said.

Ass Slap

Update: That is not my ass. 

Well, well, well… it’s the day after Christmas and I’m drinking at the satellite office. Shocker. 

Please give a warm SOB welcome to the newest cast members – Doug Wetback and Tom B.

Thanks to everyone that has donated money to my pee and cum pill fund. And by everyone, I mean no one. Because of your cheap asses, I will continue to pee the bed and take forever and a day to bust a nut.

But, hey, don’t you worry about me. Go ahead with your suburban lives while I drift off into obscurity.

You’re going to miss me when there’s no more SOB – because the money I would have spent on web hosting was diverted to medication so I wouldn’t pee on my girlfriend in her sleep – with no happy ending.

I have to go now because I need to look at the lines on the upcoming bowl games. Maybe I can hit a 5-team parlay to keep this dream alive.

Well baby I surrender to the strawberry ice cream.

The lights are hung, honey.

I’ve never noticed how many non-handicapped people park in spots reserved for those who really need them – until I was one of those that really needed them.

Let me take you back to Monday night. I noticed all of the handicapped spots in a parking lot were taken, so I was forced to park a couple of hundred yards away. The asphalt had patches of ice, but I managed to slide to the door on one leg.

When I walked out I noticed two ladies getting into a car parked in one of the handicapped spots. I’m no doctor, but they seemed like they could have done cartwheels across the lot.

“Did you really need to park there?” I asked the driver.

“Oh, I gots a sticker,” she replied.

“I’m not doubting that you have a sticker. I can see it hanging from your rear-view mirror. But you seem to be walking fine. Do you have a medical condition that requires you to park there?”

“Why you be gettin’ all up in my bidness?” she axed.

“Forget it. By the way, thanks for parking there. I had to walk two football fields on crutches.”

“Thank you for having crutches.”

Now, I admit I thought about using one of the crutches to start knocking out her headlights. But then it donned on me – nothing I could have said or done was going to change her ignorance. She’s probably a bad tipper, too.

Okay, let’s get to this year’s Christmas list for the SOB cast.

An Illinois victory over Mizzou in the Braggin’ Rights game. Oh wait, she got that last night. I guess Christmas came early. Drink, I said came early.

Chuck & Theresa H.
A spittoon so their guests can chew tobacco in their house without fear of reprisal

Crowe Dog
Mamma Mia! on Blu-ray


Gina Party
Mattress pad for the bed in her guest room

See, I Told You So by Rush Limbaugh

Verizon wireless gift certificate for the next time he loses his phone (which will probably happen before the end of the year)

Leo & Sheri
Wood chipper to get rid of the Christmas tree that’s been on the roof of their car for the past three weeks

Lil’ Bro
New sofa for the one I puked and peed on last Thanksgiving after the Chiefs game

A steady make-out partner

Matt M.
Grecian Formula

Mr. O
A healthy baby (Mrs. O is due in June)

Sheila E.
Gift certificate to Taco John’s

An hour-long private dance with three strippers

Tory K.
San Diego Chargers jersey – so he’ll have a team to root for in the playoffs after they beat the Broncos on Sunday night

As for me? I just want my pee and cum pills.

The snow’s coming down. I’m watching it fall.


‘Tis the season for giving…

At least it must be, because I keep seeing those panhandlers outside my local grocery store ringing bells and begging me to drop money into their red buckets. I mean, these guys are yelling, “Merry Christmas” to me as soon as I get out of the Saab.

So, in the spirit of the season, the SOB is offering an opportunity for everyone to give something back – Help pay for my pee and cum pills.

My doctor wrote two prescriptions recently. One is for the medication that prevents me from peeing the bed after drinking too much. And since quitting drinking isn’t an option, and my current supply is nearly depleted, I need to get this one refilled soon.

The other pill will counteract the side-effect of prolonged ejaculation from another medication. I really need this one because I rarely ‘box the bald-headed champ’ any more. I just don’t have the time.

My insurance does not cover the cost of these two medications:

Pee Pills –  $125
Cum Pills – $150

To make a donation, click on the ‘beer’ icon on the right side of the page, and send a secure payment via PayPal.

The following sponsorship levels are available:

  • $5 – Hand Job
  • $10 – Doggie Style
  • $25 – Golden Shower

 A list of sponsors will appear in a post after the New Year.

Help me get off to a good start in 2009 – Drink, I said get off – Because without your help, I’ll wake up in a wet spot. And it won’t be the good kind.

Won’t you pack your bags. We’ll leave tonight.

Cankle Cast 

Never ignore your doctor’s order to go to the hospital for an X-Ray – Because you’ll end up walking around on a broken ankle for a week.

Here’s a little message to everyone that called me a pussy during the week I hobbled around in pain – “Suck it.”

You now realize that I have the pain threshold of a super hero. From now on, I will use a secret identity as a civilian – Ben Summers. Oh, wait, that’s going to be my porn actor name.

Being on crutches for five weeks during the icy winter is going to be frickin’ sweet. But I’m still wearing the hospital ID bracelet in an attempt to get back some of my street cred. Whenever someone axs me what happened, I’m going to tell them I took a bullet in the hoof from a rival golf member.

Yeah, I know I said golf.

And I’ll use my 60-day handicap parking pass to bark at the bitches as they walk past the Saab.

She said it’s cold. It feels like Independence Day.

I’m sorry it’s been a while since the last post. My cankle ended up being broken and I haven’t felt like hopping over to the computer. That’ll happen when you spend most of the day hopped up on Darvocet.

The young female pharmacist warned me not to drink alcohol with the prescription pain medication. They’re so cute at that age.

I’ll try to write more tonight.

Later, bitches.

Did you never call? I waited for your call.

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