As most of the Patriots haters with third grade educations living in the New York City area have noticed, their favorite paper, The New York Post, has been running a little gag on its betting lines: calling the Patriots cheaters every chance they get. Now, I would never accuse a News Corp. property of misinformation, so that’s why I was so happy to see this week’s betting line.

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Man this weekend was wild! Here’s the video (that’s The Founder of this website in the glasses):

Just kidding, it’s an old Dance Party USA clip. To call it “absolutely, fucking unbelievable” would be the understatement of the year and it’s November 19th! Any video that ends with the host proudly proclaiming in an excited voice “HERE’S THE FAT BOYS!!” deserves a permanent place on this here blog.

On the downside, the conversation at the beginning of the clip about how this new-fangled rap music is becoming popular makes me feel like I’m 700 years old.

Jimmy agrees.

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Oh my god is it the fucking weekend yet?

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Here I am trying to come up with new posts for you everyday like a sucker when all I have to is rip off other blogs and pass them off as my own. The picture below shows the same exact articles word for word. The picture on the left is from Valleywag. It was posted yesterday. The post already has over 2500 Diggs. The picture on the right is from another site. The same exact wording, no link to Valleywag, posted today.

That is excellent work. You have a future in Massachusetts politics, Blabberwocky.

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If you have a life and don’t care about blogging check back tomorrow or read our Jerk profiles on the left or watch these GZA videos.

If you’re not familiar with BlogRush it’s the ugly “widget” on the bottom left hand side of our site. No, it’s not designed to be an eyesore, it’s supposed to bring traffic to our website by syndicating our posts throughout the World Wide Webs. The only problem: it doesn’t really work. Sure, it functions properly, but seriously how many times would you click on that thing? It looks like a Spyware lure if I’ve ever seen one. I’m scared to click the BlogRush widget on our own page, why would someone else? The answer of course is: they wouldn’t.

Like many blog directories and gimmicks that claim to bring traffic to your blog they don’t work. See there are lots of us out there that want to promote our blogs. A whole shit load of lonely bloggers waiting to get their minutia out to the world at large (GUILTY!!) but we don’t really care about promoting other people’s blogs. You can sign up for a million blog directories, but do you ever use the blog directory to find other blogs? No, of course not because other blogs suck. So, why would hundreds and thousands of other people find your blog through a directory? They don’t because your blog sucks too.

I would like to hear from someone, ANYONE who has had success using BlogRush to promote their site, because so far it’s a giant sack of shit that ruins the aesthetic of our page.

Also, the voice of the founder and narrator of this BlogRush instructional video pisses me off. You might say that the previous sentence is a good indicator as to why BlogRush hasn’t worked for Contemptster, and you may be right. This is the type of commentary the internet is ripe with, but I defy you too listen to this video and not a) have flashbacks to that douchey student teacher from your high school history class (only me?) b) fall asleep, c) re-evaluate your life and ask yourself the question : “Jesus, do I really want to be a blogger because I’m pretty sure bloggers are people I would have made fun of in high school and I was a BIG loser in high school and didn’t make fun of lots but people but I definitely would have made fun of bloggers?” to which you will answer “Thank you BlogRush you have helped me realize that I don’t want to be a blogger and can move on with my life!”

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In this week’s Premature Exasperations Bryan goes for a slow ride but does NOT take it easy.

Marathon Cab Ride
By Bryan

I generally don’t agree with organized foot races. People pay money to run on public roads to be timed and possibly qualify for the privilege to run other races on public roads. Seems like a front for the mob, or at least a good idea for one.

“Hey let’s bury the bodies by the old running trail”
“Yeah and get a bunch of runners to pack the dirt!”
“Poi-fect! And we’ll launder the money in that way we are accustomed to laundering money, the details of which I will leave out since we all know how to launder money making the details frivolous at this juncture”

I rode in a cab on the day of the shady New York Marathon dealings. In the old days marathons were run to pass messages of war or dirty medieval stories involving geese, frocks and Wenchtaurs (half wench, half horse…or as I like to say…my wife! Just kidding, I’m not married…to her…yet). For example, Phidippides, a pro runner from Greece, ran the epic route from Marathon to Athens to relay news of an Athenian victory and to warn of the approaching Persian ships. He died of exhaustion and rumor has it the Persians were only thinking about amassing ships but didn’t have the supplies to make them so the panic seemed to be for naught.

With absolutely no exaggeration, my cab ride was on par with Phidippides journey. On Sunday, I boarded the cab and took off with a blue toothed cabbie. He talked in some zany Persian language. Riding with the enemy as Phidippides would have felt. I sat back and pounded the ground as the cab kept starting and stopping. I started to get shin splints from all of the stomping.

The cabbie kept racking up the fare by criss-crossing the same streets. Not unlike the Persians who excised heavy taxes on Phidippides, which may or may not be true. I had to get home fast to stop this oppression.

But I couldn’t. The marathoners ran a route cutting off main roads, and the Persian had no idea where to go. He just drove all around. I told him to finally ask a cop where a proper detour could be/if he could run over the racers like an epileptic octogenarian. Phidippides had to ask a wood nymph for directions back to Athens, which may or may not be true. Greeks were always talking to imaginary things.

I persisted, like Phidippides, and the policeman gave him the proper route.

The Persian tried to blame the debacle on the runners, but I knew he was trying to pass the buck. He told me he didn’t know how to read a map. Interestingly, the Persians of Phidippides day thought they were attacking Norway when they invaded Athens. That may not be true.

To wrap this up, we made it back to my place. The marathoners buried countless bodies for the mob, the Persian cabbie seemed to have enough of the marathon runners and retreated. And like Phidippides I ended up dying from exhaustion and laid on my couch the rest of the day.

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Ha ha, suckers, not that strike. Yesterday, I went on strike, but as you can see my demands have been met! I’m floating in Jack Daniels!

Special thanks to The Founder

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As a fellow writer I’ve decided to join my Writers Guild of America brethren on the Strike Train. It’s sort of like the Peace Train, only it’s full of greedy, neurotic people instead of aging hippies. It’s also not as gay. Anyway, this will be my last post until The Founder gives into my demands of one bottle of Jack Daniels per day. Jack Daniels is the fuel that drives this blog and I think The Founder should pay for it.

In the meantime, because I love you and need your page views to supplement my various other addictions, I give you this angry rant about auto salesmen brought to our attention the other day by Stagnant Island. Enjoy. (And you can always submit too!)

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I’m no theologian or Dante scholar, but I’m pretty sure that in the 3rd Circle of Hell the Taco Bell “Nachos Bell Grande” commercial plays on an endless loop. It’s bad enough that these souls burn like your o-ring after a serving of Taco Bell chili, I don’t think they need the added pain of being mentally bludgeoned by a commercial that makes no sense whatsoever.

I’m a little late to this party, but I’ve finally had my fill. Please, for the love of god, traffic and ad sales people at the major networks, your writers are on strike, but you don’t have to sit idly by while this commercial continues to ruin sporting events and prime time television. Unless you want mass murder on your hands I’d knock it the fuck off. Thank you.

Welcome to the Tool Room Taco Bell and network advertising.

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WRITER’S STRIKE LOOMS!

LAST MINUTE TALKS HOPE TO AVOID TRAGEDY!

PRODUCERS STOCKPILING SCRIPTS!

LENO WORKING ON “NEW” MATERIAL!!!!!!

FAMILIES FORCED TO COMMUNICATE!

STRIKE IS GOOD NEWS TO CANADA!

BRAIN FORCED TO WORRY!

CHUCK, GOSSIP GIRL – WILL INFANT PROGRAMS SURVIVE??!?!

REALITY STARS FRESHEN UP RESUMES FOR IMMINENT ALL-STARS SEASON!

67 SHELVED DAVID SCHWIMMER MOVIES TO BE RELEASED!

Stay tuned for more on Thems Fightin’ Words: A Writers Strike throughout the day.

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The week that was:

We Asked the Tough Question “What do you think about Halloween?” to which you responded positively for slutty costumes. (Big surprise, pervs.)

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We had a new Contemptster original video by Bryan and Company.

And we walked down PSA Memory Lane.

Let’s finish this week of with the Southwest Airlines’ latest “Want to Get Away?” commercial. Have a great weekend!

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If the MySpace/Facebook Age has taught us anything it’s that we’re a huge group of ego maniacs. Man we love ourselves. Some people are a little more blatant than others. For example, do you know those douchey, meathead, assholes that take pictures of themselves flexing in the mirror with their cell phone cameras? Well, meet Anthony Merino who owns the MySpace record for “narcissistic photos of yourself in the mirror” and that’s saying something, what with all these MySpace whores running around. Rumor has it Caligula thinks this guys a little over the top. The dudes on this website call him “cheesy”.

If you’re curious and can handle the “embarrassed feeling” brought on by grainy photos of wannabe football players posing here’s his MySpace page and photo page. You may want to turn the volume down to avoid hearing the shitty club music. He can never seem to get the phone out of the picture. It’s like he doesn’t understand the science behind a reflection (here’s how you take a corny “MySpace-style” photo without getting the camera in the shot). Plus, the vast number of self portraits is staggering. This is clearly a form of anti-social behavior. I sure hope he doesn’t go and do anything terrible.

Shit, it may be too late because he was arrested for allegedlyhaving sex with the dead body of a 92 year-old woman. Yuck.

Anthony’s hobbies of “making mix dance/club mixes[and]going out to the hottest clubs” must not pull the tail it used to…in the 80s…in New Jersey.

(via WithLeather)

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Ned Flanders quotes aside, this headline is true-didily-oo: it’s easy to gain entry to our blogroll. Ned Flanders impressions aside, if you comment on our blogs or Jerk Profiles and include your website, you’ll find your way on our blogroll. You can be just like The Hot Dog Truck! Exciting stuff I know.

Also, if you link to us like the folks at Unknown Highway, we will return the favor. With 10 page views per a day*, a link on Contemptster is sure to get you one hit every six or seven months in return. Not too shabby. This is all in the Contemptster about us section, but since we’ve had so many new visitors lately I thought I’d reiterate this lucrative opportunity.

*The Founder wants to stress to any prospective advertisers that the page view figure stated above, like many of the wonderful, laugh out loud jokes that keep our 18-35 year old male readership coming back with fists full of credit cards, is sarcastic. Page views sometimes** climb to the triple digits.

**The Founder wants advertisers to know that the “sometimes” is also sarcastic and that page view regularly hit the mid triple digits.

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