June 6th was a Monday.

Dear jEFF:

Your old pics on the June 6th post don't work, and I want to see them. I want to create a "People I know" chart, too!!!

Time Travel, on the Cheap

I haven't been down to Tacoma in awhile. Or Roy, if you want to be specific.

Fuckin' Roy.

You know, Roy should be considered the Most Vile Thing Imaginable, because it is. I don't care what you say, it is. When I do a movie or short video clip series on the shittiest places to live, Roy will be at the top of my list. Or I'll make a photobook about it.

But I'm getting mildly off-topic.

Not that there really was a topic to begin with.

I haven't been to Roy in awhile. The last time I was tehre was sometime in July. I was there because I had to go down to the American Lake VA Hospital to meet with a patient. While I was there, I stayed at the Collins' House. That because everyone stays there.

It's an unwritten rule. If you are traveling to Roy, you stay there.

It's the place that time sort of just forgot. Or really never cared about. If you want to remember the old times, go stop by.

I feel like I could have been hit with a break five years ago, and only just woken up and I'd think that it was still 2001. It's comforting to me. In the event of some sort of world-wide apocalypse, I might go there to die, choosing to die in the comfort of the familiar.

Unless I'm hookin' up with Natalie Portman... then I KNOW where I'm dying.

For those of you who also haven't made the pilgrimage lately, here's a little reach-back:



Just watch, in ten years, I'll go back and take a picture and it will look the same, except instead of an Xbox on the ground, it will be the Xbox 1080 or something like that.

You know it's true. You know it.

Cooler than Stephanie.

Man, yesterday was the best day ever! Dr. Jekyll came over for coffee and the best damn cake ever, and then went to go see Little Miss Sunshine. Choice quotes for the evening:

"So, I just drinked my shot down."
"Josie is weilding a knife at the bee!"
"Do you have to ge married for us to host a bridal luncheon?"
"There are two types of people in this world. . ."


Next time is highly anticipated. I fixed my camera (finally!) like, 2 minutes after she left, so pictures will be posted when we have more cake. Or popcicles. Mwahaha.

Checking In

So as to not have people assume that I'm not checking the board and working on stuff... I provide you with my filler post.

See... what a great filler post this is.

Secondly, I should kill you both for assaulting my retinas with that... My God... My... it hurts to remember it.

I don't think I could offer something as visually disturbing as both of those images. I don't think I have the willpower to look for something so visually assaulting. So there you go, you win on the visuals.

Of course, I've actually run into people that look like that. Namely my horrible Chunky Beef neighbor below, who continues to harass my friends about the outdoor cat. I'm going to have to Bauer her soon... or at least take lots of pictures of her with a wide-angle lens and run an expose on her.

How I hate her.

It seems like every year or every couple of years I have that one person that I just cannot stand for the life of me and I spend several moments plotting ways to destroy them. I'm not sure why of this... probably some broken childhood problem lurking in the shadows.

So this concludes Filler Post. I'll have something better later. When I feel motivated. Yeah... motivated.

Another submission for the Most Vile Thing Imaginable!

Oh, I wouldn't?

I love you, RaechelleLaRee, and I would love you even if there was a goat available.

Let me preface this by first saying that yes I do have a significant phobia of germs. That being said, I can also establish that my phobia of germs goes hand in hand with my dislike for public restrooms. Although I am not as bad as "shit brick," I have on many occasions opted to hold my need out of fear of contamination.

My darling Heather has posed that when addressed by the very adorable Dane Cook, that the public facility is some sort of laughing matter. I on the other hand would like to offer Exhibit A as my first example of why the public facility is one of the most vile things imaginable:



Aww yes, and let us not forget the reason I have lost sleep on many nights. The idea that when you need to go to the bathroom, and you open the stall and view a horror like this...
My worst nightmare come true:



Lest we not forget the things men must endure... at least you can stand and not have to touch it... although looking at it would get me bad enough not to go...



Finally, I must note that there is a good reason why I do not like to touch the door/objects in a public restroom. See here what I see in my head every time:



Tell me you have something more vile than this? I think not.

My offering for "the most vile thing ever"

I believe i have found something much more vile than yours heather dear....

Natural Reaction

Congratulations... now I really do know what it's like to throw up in one's mouth.

Pleasant.

Very pleasant.

I would like to offer up a submission for. . .

The Most Vile Thing Imaginable!!!

This is a picture from my private collection of thinspiration. I'm a fat bitch, but I am not yet this fat; so I look at this picture whenever I have the desire to eat comething that is going to make me this fat. Has anyone else lost their appetite yet?

{edit. . } I totally just noticed that the Chunky Beef on the far left is copping a totally unsexy feel on the lard ass in green. I hope that jEFF isn't masturbating too furiously to this one! {edit competed}

Been a while....

*takes a look around and realizes not much has changed around here other than the layout*

thanks for the invite back again ;) its always appreciated to feel welcome somewhere... sadly I have missed this place a little. the old blogs are nostalgic to say the least...

I Very Badly Want to Punch Someone in the Neck

I try to get to work at 8.

About 1/3 of the time to 2/3 of the time, I don't.

About 1/3 of that time, it's my fault. Maybe 1/4 of that time.

The rest of the time, there is some universal balancing act that works in such a way that I cannot make it to work until about 8:26.

Most of the time, it's the metro system's fault. Today for example, the bus was late. Again. Go figure. You'd think that I would just wake up early.

Fuck that. I barely get enough sleep as it is. And this night I actually had slept well enough that I could wake up early or at least on time. But the bus had to be late.

Today's fiasco though, had nothing to do with the bus. Well, maybe it did in that I arrived when I did because of the bus. But as I get off the bus, to cross the crosswalk, I entered the twilight zone.

I look up, see the white man glowing, I look down and start crossing. And sure enough, I get pulled over by a motor-bike cop. Because when I looked down, it started flashing. Maybe it started flashing before I even looked down and I'm remembering it wrong. It doesn't really matter, because in the end, it had JUST STARTED FLASHING.

And guess what... apparently it is against the law to cross when the hand starts flashing. I didn't know that! Did you? (I automatically hate you if you did.) I always thought of it as a yellow light... you can still make it. And since it had just started to flash, I don't even see the harm in it anyway. And the cop was sitting right there... would I have purposely jay-walked in front of a cop if I had known that was a crime?



Look at this buffaloshit. Look. $46 because I was fast enough, and fit enough, to cross a short crosswalk with a just-started-to-flash hand. No posted rules about the crosswalk either. I asked about that, to which the cop replied, "it's on the web". What if I don't have a computer? (Ignoring that I'm posting this on one...). "Oh, it's in the library too..."

Because I have the time to spend my off-time in a library hunting arbitrary cross-walk rules?!

If you don't want some to walk across a crosswalk sign... don't flash the fucking sign. Blast that light with a million megawatts of electricity. Afraid someone will be caught in the middle... here's a solution. Don't change the car's light green for 15 seconds.

Honestly. I don't even care if you have a fuckin' hand-flasher or not... whatever the rule is... POST IT SOMEWHERE FOR SOMEONE TO ACTUALLY READ.

I'm not mad at the cop... he's just enforcing a rule because he's supposed to. I'm mad at the idiots who put this rule into place and then decided not to tell anyone about it. I certainly don't remember this rule in any driver's ed class I took.

So now I get to take time out of my schedule to contest a fuckin' ticket!? Oh, and the kicker... as I'm being written a ticket for jay-walking... two morons actually do jay-walk across a busy street.

Today is not a day to cross me.

Things on Motherfuckin' Things!

Yeah.

I haven't posted in awhile. But, unlike you bastards, I am posting. Do you know why? Because I care. Never let it be said that Jeff Bauer does not care. It's Bauer jack-asses. As soon as a save up the amount of money it takes, I'm changing my last name. I'm done with that weak other last name. It has done nothing but kept me down in life.

So that's right. New Jeff. And not that Phej crap either.

I went to Boston a couple of weekends ago... as some of you know. My true friends know that at least. The rest of you just suck. Suck like Chunky Beef kind of suck. (Which reminds me, if any of you see Mr. Parr, punch him in the neck and then take his picture so I can post him as another Chunky Beef.)

Now then... where was I...

Oh yeah, so Boston. (By the way, nobody calls it Bean-Town there... well nobody I talked to anyway. They did have a pub named Bean-Town pub though...)



I didn't eat there. It looked too East Coast for my West Coast blood. Didn't want to cap some foo's or anything either.

My trip to Boston also marked the first time I have ever flown (since being a wee baby - and that doesn't count). And wouldn't you know it...

There were Snakes on my Motherfuckin' Plane!

Okay... so there was only one snake. And okay... so it was rubber.

Okay.

But I still Bauer'd that snake good.

...

This is why you all don't read this site anymore... isn't it?

Meanwhile, does anyone know how to invite someone here? Raechelle wants back in.

Car Collectin' Crazies: Volume 1

It gets harder and harder each day to spot a Chunky Beef. Perhaps that's a good thing and people are starting to actually think of their health. Unfortunately, it makes for long periods of no posts.

My apologies for that.

But lo-and-behold just as I thought the world was getting to be a bit saner... I stumbled onto something I hadn't seen in a good six years:


Puh...puh...puhlease mistah... can't I have just one...)

Yeah... that's right. Car Collectors.

The bane of my existence. Well, them along with...

• Wallabies


• Britney Spears


• Tim Eyman


• Tom Cruise


• TOM CRUISE


• Snakes on a plane (because I wanted to cash in on that internet phenomenon as well


• Queen Chunky Beef that lives downstairs in my house's basement

So I've decided to let that guy above kick-start this fun new segment: Car Collectin' Crazies.

Let's take a look at the specimen above. You can't see him from the front... that's because it's dangerous to stare at a car collector in the face. If you do, you run the risk of catching their vile disease and you too may start living at home with your parents at the tender age of 42.

You may also start to smell, reeking of desperation and Doritos (specifically the Nacho Cheese Doritos). Or corn-nuts. Or feces.

Probably feces actually, as these unholy monstrocities have never known the love of a bar of soap.

What makes them so unholy? Simple. Do you see that little kid there? Well, that little kid probably wants nothing more than to pick up the latest cool Hot Wheels car... something shiny and in black probably. But what does this Car Collectin' Crazy want? Why he wants to hoard them all to himself like a real life Kingpin... selling them on eBay or Craigslist or wherever else he can pawn off his ill-gotten cars.

The one you see before you is actually one of the "Blenders" as I like to call them, because they ALMOST look human. Almost being the key word. If you look close enough, you begin to see the three day old pizza stains and couch fibers embedded on their skin from where they sleep on their parents couch for thirteen hours at a time.

You remember all those nightmares your parents would tell you at night that would happen to you if you were a bad boy or girl.

Well they exist.

And they shop in the Hot Wheels toy car aisle at your local department or toy store.

Bring the pitch forks.

Chunky Beef Alert: Bio-Mechanical Beef

Here's my problem.

There are good people in the world. There are bad people in the world. And then, then there are lazy jack-asses. Not the lazy-jackasses like Jimmy or James. I'm talking about the lazy jack-asses who get in my way, smell funny, and/or take advantage of things...

Things such as people in wheelchairs.

One of the biggest problems with this country is that people are getting unhealthier and unhealthier. For example, they get FAT and they SMOKE. Seriously. Pick one. I would say pick the one that doesn't offend me as much... and you would think that would be getting FAT, because smoking stinks...

But if you've rode a bus in any city, you'd realize that fat people seem to abhore soap. (Not all fat people, because some who are overweight are genetically so, or are so because of injury, and I do sympathize with them... but for all the others, this applies to you.) So I can put up with one or the other, but not both.

Or anything close to that. For some reason, I find it personally offensive when someone does something doubly-unhealthy (i.e. the smoking and the fatness). I also find it offensive when a person takes advantage of things that were clearly not meant for them.

Where is this rant going? Right... here:


Oh my God... they've gone mechanical.

Now, on first glance, you might think... "Great... Jeff's lost his mind and now he's picking on vets who can't walk... should have seen that comin'..."

And while it's true, mental stability is always a give and take with me... I haven't lost my senses...

This guy that you see... he can walk. I know because before this picture was taken, he used the wheelchair to rest his bag. Meanwhile, he walked around a bit and was sitting on the bench (taking up more space). Then when the bus rolls around, he gets into the wheelchair and holds his bag and wheels up to the bus. He did this so he could have his own FUCKING SEAT!

Yes. That's right. That's laziness. That's laziness that affects me. It affects me because it means he takes up a bunch of seats with his FUCKING wheelchair while people then have to stand. He does this because he's too lazy to hold his own bag. Now, he does have a cast... but he could still use crutches. And after seeing his behavior, I have to question whether the cast is a prop.

I dated a girl who's mom's legs were amputated. Now she needed a wheelchair. The great Biomechanical Chunk over here hardly does.

And I bet he smokes.

Smokey McBio Chunk.

Chunky Beef Alert: Queen Beef

I'm a nice guy.

It's true. I don't even have to try. I genuinely care about other people... their welfare... their happiness... there what-have-you. That's just the type of guy I am.

That's one of the prevailing reasons why I got into psychology. To help people in the best way that I can.

But don't cross me. It's just one of those lines.

Some of you may remember when I was foolishly nearly driven into driving into an oncoming car in high school. (Oh, who am I kdding. You sons-of-bitches don't even read this board anymore because you're too busy playing WoW or some other WoW-type equivalent. Bastards...)

Over the years, I have singled out people who have done so... or who I just don't like for whatever reasons I have: David Sanders. Tom Cruise. Alphabet Soup.

Well, I have a new one. And lo-and-behold, she makes the newest installment of:

Chunky Beef Alert!

The Queen walks with her drone... searching for the beef.

Meet the leader of all that is Chunky Beef. Queen Chunky Beef. Sure, she might not look like the biggest CB out there... but you don't have to be to be the leader. Rest assured, she could eat you. Whole.

Let me explain something to you. You do NOT call the Seattle Animal Shelter on me to complain about how my outdoor cat is going to die because it has no shelter when it does have a fuckin' shelter all because you don't like that he's an outdoor cat. Boo hoo Chunkizilla. If you were so worried about my cat's health, you wouldn't fuckin' smoke around my cat. Why don't you take a wet nap to your inner lungs before you come near my cat again. Hey, I know, if you are worried about shelter, why not liposuct some of your body fat and build him a little home from it.

With the amount you have, you could build him the Taj Mahal.

But I know this one... she didn't call the Seattle Animal Society because she was worried about the shelter... she called because I didn't want to lister to her go on and on about the various dangerous associated with living outdoors. Funny, how in the thousands of years before cats lived in houses, they seemed to do alright for themselves in the wild.

And you know, I'm not annoyed that she was worried about my cat. I'm annoyed that she tried to enforce her Whalrus will upon me behind my back, while puffing her smoke in my vacinity.

Some of you might remember my old rants about kangaroos. Well, be prepared... because Tubtastic here is my new focus.

An American Food

NOTE: I had to make this post quickly, because I was getting nightmares at seeing Chunky McSpears everytime I opened this site.

Remember when, during a picnic or barbeque, or ho-down for our country readers, there was that moment when the first hamburger was freshly grilled off the... well... grill.

I remember those moments. They are what makes summer barbeques great. Getting that burger. I preferred mine with a little bit of melted cheese. Oh, and some ketchup. Though lately I've moved on to mustard.

That's right, fuck you Heinz. German bastard. (German engineered bastard.)

There's something so delicious about those homemade burgers. And it's not like they cost much to make. Just a few patties, some buns, and your condiment of choice.

Sometimes though, we don't have time to make our own burgers, so we go to some place to have a burger. Like MacDonalds (eww.) or Wendys (less eww.) or Red Robin (variety of decent mixed with eww.). Of course, with these places, those burgers can increase in cost (Red Robin being the most expensive.)

I think a Red Robin burger costs like around 10 bucks, give or take. But hey, it can be worth it. (Jalepeno Burger, bitches!)

Well, following that logic, then THIS:

Fru Fru.
Has to be the most tasty burger on the muthafuckin' (source: Sam Jackson) planet.

This tasty-gem costs 100 dollars. NO... wait... actually, with tax and garnishes, it costs: $124.50.

(And, of course, you can only purchase this burger if you belong to an exclusive club where the membership is $40,000 with a $3,600 dollar yearly fee.)

Excuse me, while I...
HAAHAHAHEHEHAHAHEHAHAHA...

There really is a sucker born every minute.

I'm sorry, but a $43,724.50 burger? Are you fuckin' out of your mind? Seriously? Gentle Jesus this is the stupidest thing I have heard of yet. (Aside from Carrot Top.) I mean... for fuck's sake... the only thing this solves is that people will be less likely to become Chunky Beef (see previous post below).

Of course, not to be outdone, Hickville, USA has come up with the anti-stupid expensive burger, by shoving as much crap as they can in it.

Introducing the Monster Thick Burger:

Look ma, it's Australia... no wait... that's just the type of food truckers named Mel eat...

I'm going to go out on a limb and say, "Thank God someone has invented a way to subtly kill fat people."

Because that's what this thing does. At 1420 calories and 2740mg of sodium, this thing could stop the heart of a walrus.

At least we still have In-and-Out Burger.

Chunk Beef Alert: Celebrity Scaredown

I have to say, by and large, I've seen some very scary things in my time. Especially living in Seattle. Not so much because it's a scary city... rather a very tame city... but because when you group a large number of people together, there are always those odd ones that slip out and make themselves prominent. And I'm not saying the cool odd ones. Or the entertaining odd ones (see James Collins. But the odd ones that make you question humanity and beg for a quick and timely death (painless optional).

Humanity has a way of doing that. Sometimes you are immensely proud of it, and sometimes you shudder at the thought of being linked genetically with it.

And that harrowing thought brings me to tonights...

Chunky Beef Alert!

HAHAHAHAHAhahahahahah...-gasp, gasp-... HAHAHAHAHahahahahaha

Wow. You know, for years I hated Britney Spears for making me want to gouge my ears out every time her voice came over the radio... and then I felt a little sorry for her because she married White Trash on Legs. Now... wow. Wow. I mean... wow.

I mean, it's probably hard to remember back in the day... but THIS:

WAS Britney Spears.

So... Wow. I guess all I can say is, I feel a weird sense of pity mixed with uncontrollable laughter.

And the scariest part... she hasn't changed her dress style since her younger picture.

Chunky Beer Alert: Hospital Dangers!

I don't understand people. At least, not all people. And I don't understand how some things are structured.

Take, for example, how some hospitals have McDonald's built right into them. I mean, seriously?

What the fuck are you thinking?

The nearest I can figure is that it's an attempt to bring in repeat customers. Mr. Johnson, who has a heart-valve transplant because his heart is tired of pumping greasy burgers through his beaten up old veins, goes straight from his hospital bed down to the McDonald's and orders up a McHeart-Attack, SuperSized, of course... and bam, two weeks later, he's spending more for a second heart-valve.

Way to go Douchebag Johnson.

And that brings me to Chunky Beef, Smoker Lady.


Seriously? At a hospital?

I took this at the VA Hospital, where there is a smoking shelter. No, scratch that, there are like three smoking shelters. What the fuck? I can understand something like that at a bar or restaurant... but at a hospital? Why not just get rid of it and force people to adapt. For fuck's sake! It's smoking, not eating... (although in this case, this lady seems to have a problem with both).

You know what, if she wants to smoke, make her ass walk down the block and smoke there! It might help deter her from smoking a little. And that is providing exercise. I just cannot comprehend this act of providing shelter to someone who's already harming their body. If you really want to be a risk-taker, smoke in the fucking rain!