Until today, Arkansas never seemed like a place I’d ever care to visit. Aside from the World Championship Duck Calling Contest and the world’s largest can of spinach, Arkansas just kind of seemed like a boring place with nothing fun going on. That is, until I found out about the PFC – Pre-School Fight Club.

The first rule of Fight Club is never tell your parents about Fight Club.

In Fayetteville, Arkansas, two day care “teachers” were fired after allegations that they were organizing fights between three and four-year-olds during play time at a local church.

You know, I remember pre-school quite well and I would never consider the people who worked with the children to be teachers. Mainly, they were just a bunch of bitter old bitches that forced bologna and ketchup sandwiches down our throats. Occasionally, they would help me with my zipper in the bathroom when I couldn’t get my pants down, but they never really taught me anything except that it’s not good to drink my own pee. Back to the story:

Police started an investigation last week when parents complained that their kids were coming home with bruises. Apparently, two day care employees would gather the children in a circle and make two of them fight each other while the others watched.

I think people need to really think about this before being like, “This is terrible. How can someone make these precious little children fight each other?”

Kids are dicks. If it’s illegal to slap them around when they are being little shits, then why not let other kids do it for you? Furthermore, how much harm could toddlers really do to each other? This was good, clean exploitation and the rules were clear: No biting, kicking, hair pulling, or weapons.

I hate to be one to look at the realistic side of things, but this whole ordeal took place at a church. The children probably benefitted from fighting. Now they have some self defense skills the next time their priest tries to touch them.

Prevent this from happening to your kids by enrolling them in Pre-School Fight Club!

The guestbook is up and working now. Unfortunately, due to compatibility issues, I lost all of my old guestbook entries. I’d like everyone to sign the guestbook again and leave your e-mail addresses as well.

Also, my new myspace account can be added HERE, so go do that right now if you haven’t already.

Since most of you probably share my hatred of Britney Spears, I thought you’d find this Youtube video interesting. We all know that Britney has a beautiful voice – she just doesn’t use it while performing. It has long been known that she lip syncs during her performances. Personally, I think this is acceptable. Afterall, how can she possibly grind on all those cocks and sing at the same time?

But have you ever wondered what she would actually sound like if her microphone was “accidentally” recording while she rubbed her vagina across the faces of her male dancers and pretended to sing? Here you go:

If I found a magic lamp and a genie inside granted me three wishes, one of those wishes would be that I could watch Florida news channels from Michigan. I’m thoroughly convinced that alligator piss has tainted the water and is driving Florida residents insane. And you know what? It’s fuckin’ great!

48-year-old Frankie Lewis was arrested on Sunday in Ocala for pulling a knife out during a church breakfast buffet and threatened to cut members of the congregation who refused to give him butter. Frankie, you’ve got it all wrong.

Here are a few scenarios when it’s appropriate to pull out a knife:

1) “Hey dude! Check out the knife I got for Christmas!” *Pull out knife*

2) “This steak is too tough to cut with my fingers.” *Pull out knife*

3) “I hate having a penis and I don’t want to be a man anymore.” *Pull out knife*

In Frankie Lewis’ case, this is pretty much exactly how it went down at the buffet:

Frankie: “Can I please have some butter for my biscuit?”

Church-goer: “No, sorry. We don’t have any butter.”

Frankie: “I’m having a bad day and all I want is some fucking butter.”

Church-goer: “OK, now you’re definitely not getting any butter. Please leave.”

Frankie: (Pulls out knife) “If I don’t get some fucking butter for my fucking biscuit, I’m gonna cut your Jesus-lovin’ face off!”

Church-goer: “Ahhhhh! OK, here’s your butter!”

Frankie: (Puts knife away) “Thank you.”

As Frankie put the knife away, he was struck in the head with a wooden board wielded by another church member. He stumbled out the door, fled via bicycle, and was arrested down the street. He’s currently in jail and being charged with aggravated assault with a deadly weapon.

Frankie, I’m passionate about my butter too. Don’t worry, friend. I hear they have awesome butter in prison and you can also use it as lube when you’re spankin’ off in your cell for the next few years.

In Shakespeare’s novel Julius Caesar, there is an interesting quote by Julius himself: “Let me have men about me that are fat, sleek-headed men and, such as sleep o’nights. Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look. He thinks too much, such men are dangerous.”

As a kid, I could relate to this quote because it seemed like all my happiest friends were the same kids getting picked on for being fat. Large people generally tend to be jolly – take Santa Claus for example.

Thin people are generally shady characters that always seem to be up to something diabolical – like me.

I didn’t pose for this. This is actually how I approach women.

Sad times are upon us when I can’t even turn my back on a 500 lb. Italian without wondering which part of the Jersey coast my bloated dead body will wash up on. Damn the mafia.

I was thinking maybe Caesar’s passage should be rephrased to, “Let me have morbidly obese men who cannot lift themselves from their beds and, such as sleep o’nights.” This seemed more appropriate in today’s society because I figured that there had to be some kind of a weight threshold that just makes it impossible for a person to commit any crime. I wholeheartedly believed this until today.

Police are still trying to figure out what to do with 27-year-old Mayra Lizbeth Rosales, who is accused of murdering her 2-year-old nephew. You see, Mayra shatters the scales at a whopping 1,000 pounds, and prison doesn’t really have the amenities for her. She’d have to be served a terrifying three meals a day and have access to fresh air and exercise equipment. What a horrible thought!

Well, it’s not just that Mayra can’t handle such a drastic change in her lifestyle. The main issue is that police can’t get her out of bed, and even if they could, she wouldn’t fit through her door.

Unless she can magically disassemble her body, have a group of Olympic weight lifters carry the pieces to a flat-bed truck and then haul her to Mexico, she ain’t goin’ nowhere. She’d never even get through customs!

Listen, fuckers. It’s not that hard to figure out what to do in this situation:

Keep her under house arrest (as if she had a choice). When her trial is over and she’s convicted, give her the death penalty. Get Ethiopia on the phone and tell them that we have a surprise for them… Barbequuuuue!

Little Mutumbo can’t wait much longer for some ribs.

Ugh, I hate having to write a post about something as lame as my Myspace account being deleted again, but here I sit. I don’t know why this has happened again. The only plausible conjecture I can deliberate [hehe] is that Tom received a cell phone call and it went like this:

Myspace security: “Tom! It’s happened again, sir. Dustin made a new profile.”

Tom: “My God, man. How much time do we have until people start adding him?”

Myspace security: “Sir, he already has over 300 friends on his new profile. We just found out. I’m so sorry, sir.”

Tom: “Noooooooo! You fools! If his new profile isn’t deleted in five minutes, you’re all fired and your families will be eaten by tiny sharks with tadpole bodies. Goodbye.”

*CLICK*

Myspace security: “Tom can be such a dick sometimes.”

Tom: “Aha! I’m still on the line!”

So, add my new account again. Hopefully this is the last time:

www.myspace.com/sidecarsallydotcom

Oh, and I’d really like to thank the shitbag that stole the URL myspace.com/sidecarsally before I got a chance to take it. Real original, pal.