Well, it’s Friday again and I don’t have much time for another update, but I’d like to quickly write about a stupid bitch.
Facebook and Myspace have really networking easier for a lot of people. You can find an online niche for almost any hobby, no matter how absurd. For instance, I probably wouldn’t have any friends today if it wasn’t for the Brazilian fart fetish chat room that I found on AOL back in 1996. Since then, I’ve learned not to be ashamed of who I am.
One girl who didn’t realize the networking power of today’s social websites is Amanda Hudson, from England.
Pretty hot huh? She’s sixteen you fuckers. Still hot though.
Amanda is one of those rich girls born into some big money. For her 16th birthday party, she decided to post bulletins on Bebo, Facebook, and Myspace – inviting all to come to her party. In the invite, she said that the party would have tons of alcohol and a sweet DJ. Guess what happened next?
Over 400 people – most of them not even her friends – showed up at the party and just fuckin’ trashed the place. Over $10,000 in jewelry was stolen, along with half of Amanda’s wardrobe. Nearly everything in the house was broken or ruined as kids threw furniture into the pool, soiled the carpet, fucked in her mom’s bed, and vomited on the walls. Had I been there, I would’ve at least been partially responsible for all of those offenses.
A picture from the party. Who’s gettin’ date raped tonight!?
The cops showed up and shut down the party at the $10 million home, but the damage was so extreme that Amanda got grounded. Yeah that’s right… grounded.
You go to a party at a middle-class home and everything usually goes alright. Let a rich kid throw a crazy bash in a multi-million dollar mansion and everyone just feels the need to destroy everything that doesn’t belong to them. This is the first time I’ve said this and meant it – I love the direction that today’s youth is heading. Rock on dudes and have a good weekend. Fuck some shit up.
Oh, and just for fun, I still have to point out that this girl is only sixteen.
Hey everyone! Sorry about not updating yesterday – I fell out of a tree while masturbating outside of Mary-Kate Olsen’s home and had to be hospitalized.
By now, you should all know that if there’s one thing I hate, it’s people who cause a ruckus and complain over stupid things. I don’t usually write about sappy bullshit, but this next story is just too annoying to resist. Once again, thank you Florida for having the largest population of dense assholes in America. Seriously, if you live in Florida and you read this, please , punch your neighbor in the face because he’s probably a prick.
A Fort Walton Beach community is outraged by a man’s decision to capture a family of local swans for his own waterfowl collection. If you don’t know where Fort Walton Beach is, that makes two of us.
Swans: Nature’s assholes.
Back in mid-January, a husband and wife swan made their way to the local beach community. People watched as the swans had little swanlings (I made that word up) and they grew attached to the bird family. The residents were very unhappy when Shawn Dahnke showed up in a boat one day, threw a net over the swan family, and then took them back to his house where he had his own little waterfowl zoo.
Personally, I don’t get it. They’re swans , not tigers.
During Operation Swan Steal, onlookers called police, who told them that Shawn’s activities were not illegal because swans are not a native species to Florida – he could take them if he wanted.
What kills me is how selfish these people are. Both adult swans had their wings clipped already, which means that they couldn’t even fly to escape predators. Also, three of the four little swanlings had died by the time that Shawn decided he would step in and rescue them.
Instead of considering Shawn a hero, people bitched about how they had grown attached to the bird family and wanted them to remain on their own, where they would most likely be killed.
I knew there had to be more beef to this story and that’s when I read about Tami Kerr, the bitch in the picture above. Tami claims to be extremely affected by the absence of the swans. You see, Tami has been battling terminal cancer and the birds were “a focal point in her life.” She photographed them every day and is working on a children’s book about them.
OK…
1) Hans Christian Anderson already wrote a book about a swan. Your book will never be that famous.
This book terrified me as a young lad.
2) Why would you start writing a children’s book if you’re going to be die of cancer soon anyways? Just die already, geez.
3) If swans are a focal point in your life, then you need to get out more. Don’t try to fool us by acting like some kind of a spiritual nature-type that finds beauty in everything. I recommend focusing on becoming addicted to crack. It will ease the pain of your cancer and you’ll be a lot more fun to hang out with in your last days.
What is it about you Floridians that makes you end up on Sidecarsally News over and over again? You live in a beautiful, sunshiney state with amazing weather, countless tourist attractions, and your ex-governor is Jeb Bush – what more could you ask for?!
Don’t get me wrong, I love you all the way that you are. I’m glad you’re a bunch of crazy fuckers because it would be a lot harder finding material to write about if you were from, say, Wyoming .
These guys are so stupid, they don’t even have a tent .
See? That’s nowhere near as interesting as, “Florida man robs bank, but gets head stuck in door.”
Anyway, we’ve all heard the saying, “Look both ways before you cross the street.” The same thing also applies to crossing the lawn.
2-year-old Chelsea Moore is still in critical condition at a Florida hospital due to a deadly showdown with her grandparents’ lawnmower. The little girl was hangin’ with her grandma when she “darted” across the lawn to see her grandpa who was cutting the lawn on a riding mower. The grandfather failed to see the toddler and ran over her leg causing severe lacerations.
Get this: The actual picture used in the article is a menacing photo of a push mower.
“Raawwwrrr, I am evil lawnmower with a dangerous red glow!”
This story raises a couple of concerns for me:
1) How fast can a 2-year-old “dart” across a lawn anyway? Grandma probably just let her run out there not thinking anything about it. “Ooh, look how cute. Little Chelsea is running to go see her grandfath-OH MY GOD!’
2) Since the grandfather was ultimately the one who failed to see Chelsea, does this not prove that old people are unfit to drive even the most basic moving vehicles?
Since it was just her leg and not her head, hopefully little Chelsea will make a full recovery. It’s just really sad that somebody more deserving of this fate didn’t happen to be running across the lawn. Someone like Barrack Obama bin Laden.
Rid your lawn of pesky Obamas.
This story reminds me of a scene from my favorite movie “Dead Alive” where Lionel uses a lawnmower to mow down a group of zombies in his house.
“Party’s over.”
It’s pretty much the exact same thing except in this case, it was a toddler instead of a zombie. And there was only one toddler instead of a group of them. Actually, I guess this is nothing like that movie. I think I’m gonna watch it tonight anyway
Last personal update, I swear. But if you don’t care to read this, then you might as well not care about Sidecarsally at all. Maybe I should just kill myself then huh? You fucking bastards.
I went camping this weekend for the first time since last Labor Day. After hours of searching for a campground with vacancy, I settled for a nice little state park right on the connecting waterway between Lake Huron and Lake Erie. If you’ve never heard of those lakes, then pick up a fucking Atlas more often because they’re two of the largest freshwater lakes in America, bitch.
Saturday night sucked my asshole. It was 42 degrees and I slept in a tent with nothing but a blanket and a pillow. No sleeping bag, no sweatpants, or anything. When I woke up, I had a sinus infection.
The following day, I started drinking around 10am and we went to a nearby carnival where I was obviously in a terrific mood.
I look like I’m half-retarded. Awesome.
Later, after absorbing the happiness from all the people around me, I decided to go on a few rides. Here I am on a ride that I don’t know the name of, so I will just call it the “Pay $4 and go up and down for 2 minutes” ride. If you look closely, you can see me hijacking the ride with a large knife.
This was the worst ride ever.
Next, we went on the Tilt-O-Whirl, which I like to call the “Throw out your back and ruin you for $4″ ride.
I was screaming in pain, not joy. The lap bar was crushing my balls.
Fuck the carnival. Every person that worked there smelled like a giant taint. After that, we walked around the town. I bought a little bow and arrow, and then we found a giant anchor. Sadly, this was the highlight of my day.
“Man the harpoons!”
Further down the street, I found a giant anti-aircraft gun and decided to shoot some shit out of the sky.
Terminator 5: Return of the Skinny Fuck
On our way back, we bought some firewood from a man who needs a lesson in spelling and grammar.
Stop and hear the firewood.
The day ended with an epic campfire and me getting drunk and wondering what life would be like without my Sidecarsally fans. Then I got sad and went into the tent to pass out.
Reflecting on the weekend.
Overall, I’d say it was a good weekend minus the cold nights, hard ground, gas prices, and sunburn. I can’t wait to do it again!
Today is going to be a day for personal updates. Reporting on all these dumbshits on a daily basis is really taking its toll on me. I find myself constantly wanting to write about all the stupid shit that I do on a daily basis and it’s really not doing much for my self esteem.
For instance, the other day I ran into a door. There was no particular reason for this accident. I just didn’t remember to open the door. There was plenty of light in the room and I could clearly see that the door was closed, I just approached it and simply walked right into it without even attempting to turn the knob.
On a positive note, something amazing happened to me on Friday night. I met Neil Patrick Harris (NPH). For those of you who don’t know who this man is, he grew up playing Doogie in the hit television show “Doogie Howser M.D.”
Little did we know that he would end up being gay.
Apparently, NPH’s boyfriend grew up 2 miles from where I did. They were both in town for a funeral and they happened to be at the bar that I randomly went to on Friday night. OK… I have a confession. I didn’t randomly go to the bar that night. The story goes like this:
My friend Adam sent me a text saying, “Come 2 Memphis Smoke. NPH is here.”
I replied, “OMFG NO WAY. Don’t play with my heart like that.”
He replied, “He’s downstairs right now.”
I texted back, “OMG <3 ON MY WAY NOW."
A few beers later, I was chatting with NPH and his boyfriend. I can’t remember his name though. When you’re chilling next to Doogie, it’s pretty much impossible to do anything but stare at his awesome face.
Before he left, I went back and handed him a piece of paper with Sidecarsally’s web address and a pencil drawing of my penis. I told him I would write a story about him, so we’ll see if he checks it out.
NPH, I don’t want to sound like a creep or anything, but you better sign my goddamn guestbook. I’ve got a full-body ninja suit and I know how to climb very tall buildings without a helicopter – there’s nowhere I can’t find you.
Me and NPH, chillin’ on a unicorn. Strictly hetero-like.
