I didn’t say I was gonna kill you!
Archive for the ‘tennis’ Category
Day 12: Tennisburger Will Kill You
Posted in tennis on September 13, 2009 | 3 Comments »
Day 7 (or was it 8?): Tennisburger Sobwich
Posted in tennis on September 10, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
I’ve been lying in bed with my finger up my nose and breathing heavy with my other hand dangling a Pall Mall slim over the edge of my single bed fighting the urge to post. Ashes piling up among cat shit and old dirty Fruity Pebble bowls. I knew it’d be like this. Pathetic. All [...]
Day 8: Dick Enberg Creeps Tennisburger the Fuck Out, Tennisburger Uses the Suffix “the Fuck Out” Record Number of Times
Posted in tennis on September 8, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
As we all know Tennisburger does not allow criers, so let this be a warning to the entire Oudin family, namely her under achieving twin sister, whatshername. Tears from crying are a big no-no here on the ‘burg, but don’t think for a second that sobs of joy are tolerated here either. That girl straight [...]
Day 6: Teen Butter Face “Believes” That Anything Can Happen Including Blowing 832 Match Points and Still Winning , Isner Racks Up 380 Aces at Rohypnol Convention
Posted in tennis on September 6, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
First off, stop reading this, go to Justin Tv (dot com), get yourself an account, and while any tennis match is going on entertain yourself with the most hillarious commentary since, well, this site. According to one Nysaf, he recently heard that “Federer takes it in the backdoor,” and believes that “Federer sux.” I seriously [...]
Day 4: Tennisburger Predicts a Taylor Dent v. Jesse Witten Final in Queens
Posted in tennis on September 4, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
You heard it here first bitches. If these two meat heads don’t make it to the finals, the only reason will be that the wheels on their muscle cars were slashed. I couldn’t find a picture of Jesse “1982″ Witten with a muscle car, so I did the next best thing and added a stretched, [...]
Day 2: Jesse Witten Comes Up From Jersey Shore to “Teach This Russian Fag a Lesson”, Safina Runs Out on the Bill at Outback Steakhouse
Posted in tennis on September 2, 2009 | 1 Comment »
Jesse “1982″ Witten caused another cold war attack by upsetting (literally and I’m guessing the other way is literal too) Igor Andreev in straight sets. Witten is of course a qualifier; what he qualified for is anybody’s guess (mine is cheeseburger eating contest…dude is fat). Rank is 267. After today and the ridiculous ATP ranking [...]
Day 1: Tennisburger Searches for Mary Jo’s Lips, Donald Young and Roommate Who Erased Day 1
Posted in tennis on September 1, 2009 | 1 Comment »
For the first time I’m gonna come at you with something fresh, something new, something your parents are probably plugging their ears about right now: I’m going to cover day 1 having witnessed no more than 1 hour of play. Fuck watching tennis, especially day 1 of the US Open (brought to you by tiny, [...]
Hot Off The Toilet
Posted in tennis on August 25, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
I would’ve crapped my pants if I had enough power to propel my poo through the toilet and into my pants which were lying around my ankles while reading this month’s edition of Inside Tennis. If you look on the left page you’ll see an ad for the Bryan brothers and their new (*ha!*) band. [...]
Day Negative 8: I Left My Dump in Cincinnati
Posted in tennis on August 23, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
Cool as an electric turquoise cucumber, Roger Federer dismantled the Serbian Brainiac amidst hundreds of gassy Cincinnati tennis fans. There was a thick, pungent smell of ass in the air as Number 1 calmly took the tennis out of the boy in straights, steam rolling a Cleveland steamer (Cinci style) he had laid on Screech’s [...]
Roddick Loses Beer Bong, Match in the Parisian Dusk
Posted in tennis on June 2, 2009 | 5 Comments »
The world grows bigger as the light leaves it. There are no boundaries and no landmarks. The trees and the rocks and the anthills begin to disappear, one by one, whisked away under the magical cloak of Monfils’ DROPPA.
-Beryl Markham, West With The Night (1942)
I may not be the smartest man in the world. I [...]
