Dustin Diamond exuding his martial arts prowess
Well it turns out the dork of 'Saved by the Bell' fame is on hard times. He needs $250,000 to save his home from foreclosure. I read in his imdb.com biographical information that he was a black belt in karate. He also defeated Ron Palillo in a 'Celebrity Boxing' match. So why does Mr. Diamond not use his karate ways to do the following:
- Open a dojo
- Karate chop old ladies for their money and cat food
- Roundhouse the old ladies' cats in the head and sell their pelts in the black market fur trade
- Switch to Ramen noodles (call centers going out of business do)
- Fashion clothing out of pototato bags, go live in the wilderness, eat bugs and preach the evils of lending companies
- Unleash karate justice upon GIRALDO
- Sell shirts on http://www.getdshirts.com/
Ok you don't need karate for all of it but it sure helps you to pursuade people. Fight on Dustin!
Well today I went to go toast my pop tarts…. I push the handle down and nothing… Ok, so I look in there and there are busted chunks of pop tart charcoal in the bottom. I dare to push it down again this time with great dexterity and force. So now it starts smoking. Well it turns out I didn’t get to toast my tarts to golden brown goodness but instead to barely warm. I was a little pissed. Then walks in portzer #1 who began giggling like a schoolgirl that peed in the rose bushes. He admits as to doing it and laughs.
DUDE, you do not f*** with a man toatsting his pop tarts. I told him to take it out but he didn’t. How the frick do you leave large chunks of pop tart in the toaster. If you are so dinglish you don’t know how to remove a pop tart in one piece you do not deserve to live. So says Portzer #2’s Art of War. So I say to you portzer #1…. you shall pay.
He is in trouble. As you know I grew up as a street brawler. I fought for cash money. The only reason I’m here and not battling underground ‘Lionheart/Jean-Claude Van Damme’ style is that I needed to end my violent ways. I put the life behind me, but the art I still practice. My Shidoshi has taught me to control my violent outburst, but as I start my day I expect to be able to eat a friggin pop tart without any fear of under-toastage. So for that portzer #1 I give you warning. Pray that I do not find you in the parking lot or in the break room or…
Have any comments? Twalk amongst yourselves in our comments…
Ok, now this borders on the ridiculous. Tech guys with ivy league degrees use household items such as frying pans and tennis rackets. Now as I told you in an earlier posting I used to street brawl for money. I would be able to lay the smack down no problem. But what about little Kenny Johsnon who has been playing a little too much Tekken 5 and downed a can of Red Bull. He’ll be so cracked out of his mind that he may just go to Beatdown ’06. But the sad thing is he’s only able to do 3 push ups and 5 situps before exhaustion hits. So when Sanjay Gupta comes at him with 10 pounds of curry justice there will be no doubt he’s gonna have an aneurysm. Not to mention Nguyen rumbling in with his instant Kancho death touch and Crazy 5 Masters Peanut Pull.
All I’m saying is that some people are gonna get hurt and I can’t see why these guys would do it. They should do something more constructive with their time like expand and refurnish their basement. Because there is no doubt these fools are living beneath the floorboards of Ma and Pa’s house even though they make bank or they wouldn’t be doing this…
I mean look at that picture. Looks like two mentally handicapped atheletes down at the local elementary school polishing their Muay Thai skills for the Special Olympics.
To get slightly off tangent and to break up the mahogany (hehe) of these past events, I would like to share a true story that occurred when I was around 12 years of age:
My family belonged to a private pool i.e. members only community. We would go there often during the hottest months to cool off, have a bar-b-que, relax, and have fun. Well, it just happens that one severely blazing day , my family decided to the community and scorch some chicken, hot dogs, and steak, and have a grand ole time. It just happens to be that a few vagrants I befriended were there with their kindred as well.
I didn’t plan on seeing any of them that day, so I brought a multitude of G.I. Joe and He-Man figures with me in case I got lonely in the pool (boo-hoo) It was going to be a while before any of the food was going to be ready, and it was too hot to leave the comfort of the cooling waters, so we decided to play “dive for the action figures” game. I began to feel my bowels contract; it began to feel as if something wanted to be released, but was partially constricted. As we continued to dive for magical toys such as Cobra Commander, Skeletor, and Beast-Man, the pressure began to increase. Damnit, this always happens when I’m having fun. As always, I didn’t want to break away from the festivities I was being a part of. I thought, I’ll just hold it and go later, and since it was so devastatingly hot outside, I didn’t dare get out of the pool unless I was forced to by someone else.
I’ll try to paint you a picture: In World of Warcraft, the Warlock’s Curse of Agony spell damage is dealt slowly at first, and builds up as the curse reaches its full duration, so was my bowels ready to push a huge gob of solid waste out of my rear end. My friends and fellow listeners let me tell you, it was too late. This huge load of caca was just released in my swim trunks at lightning speed. Luckily, the trunks were loose enough for me to work the waste dump free and distribute its pain upon the world. At the moment, we were in a deeper area of the pool, thank goodness. Well, that chunk sunk as fast as an automobile free falling out of the sky; in no time, that bad boy was on the bottom of the pool.
Unfortunately, my cohorts were still diving for the various figures, I wanted to tell them we were finished here and to move on to a different area of the pool, but at the same time I was extremely embarrassed and didn’t know what action to take to get away from the poop pile that lie in the depths, waiting for a hapless victim. I tried to distract them and lure them over to a shallower part of the pool, telling them I just threw more figures near that area. It began to work; they slowly inched their way towards the shallower area, but one of the poor bastards said he just saw something dark down below and before I could react, he was beneath the surface, on his path to doom.
When he surfaced, in his hand was a broken slab from my poop bomb. The others couldn’t believe their eyes; the poo bearer was even more surprised. The only thing that came from his mouth was, “UGHHHHHH” and he dropped it instantly, and literally launched out of the pool and darted to the bathroom to wash his hands. Me and the others couldn’t stop laughing, it seemed to last for eternity. Luckily, no one knew it was me; I was hysterically laughing inside in a demented sort of way, and no one knew the damned truth but me.
To this day, I still think of this experience and recall it to almost every detail, despite being over 10 years ago. Moral of the story? Hahahah hah ah, there is none!!! If you think I was going to say something like, “be sure to get out of the pool in time and take a bowel movement before its too late” is totally wrong. It’s more like, don’t go diving deep for shit, because you never know how far you have to go until you stumble upon some.