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A most unexpected party…

It’s Portzer #1 here, just stopping by to share my wealth of knowledge from a most recent experience. You see, It just so happens that I got a mystery gift card for my 31st birthday. On this card was written, “the holder of this card is hereby entitled to join us as a magical guest of honor at our new location”. All it contained was an address, no phone number, no venue name, and nothing more, very secretive. Was this some kind of joke?

I used google maps in an attempt to get a better idea of where this place was located, but that section of town seemed to be unclear on the maps, even though it existed. I proceeded to take a bus down there, since my car was tainted from a vagrant who broke in and spent the night. My car smelt of solidified milk that had expired 6 months back. Apparently, I had left a few of my favorite “Cream Pie Honeys” magazines in the back seat, which I’m sure the vagrant immensely loved, so much, in fact that he made a mess all over the dashboard and steering wheel. I hope the smell goes away eventually.

Ok, back to our story. So, I took the bus to this shadowy part of town, which ended at the ‘end of the line’ stop. I was the only one who got off. Let me try to describe to you what this part of town looked like. Imagine Star Jones and Rosie O’ Donnell wrestling over the last Milky Way Lite candy bar on the planet and at the same time imagine two gay sumo wrestlers fighting over a nude snapshot of Yokozuna. This area of town was in shambles!
I began to walk down the street, avoiding the fecal stained sidewalks and dried vomit encrusted buildings. Looks like someone had a gagfest at both ends. From the 4th floor of a particular extra dark brown building, a hand waved out to me with a yellow handkerchief. I called out, “Umm, hello…there?” I waved my gift card in the air for them to see. The hand retracted from the window and after a few moments of unnerving silence, a door on the side opened slowly with a shrill noise. A unique voice beckoned me, “right this way dear”. It sounded like a mix between Michael Jackson and a castrated Bobcat Goldthwait. (try to imagine that). As soon as I stepped in, I gagged as hard as the time when Fergus found out that Dil had a peepi instead….The smell was overpowering, like bleach mixed with moldy cheese and grape juice vomit. I tried to take another step forward, but then blacked out. I’m not sure how long I was out for, but I had the most intense (and unwelcome dreams ever) Countless females would approach me, then slowly undress and to my horror, were men instead. They would pet me like a purring kitty, running their hands down my crotch in wave like motions, and all I could do was watch. It was like this helplessness overcame me, and I could not combat it. I eventually awoke in some kind of back alley way, littered with glitter and pink ribbons, with a bad taste of expired squid in my mouth. I felt a presence, and turned around; 4 men wearing mops on their heads and smeared crimson lipstick were staring at me. One of them spoke to me, “well little one, that was quite a party we had”. I tried to respond but then the pale one quickly cut in, “it’s ok, you don’t owe us anything” He smiled deeply afterwards, and I noticed a bit of dried crust in the corner of his lip. I became severely horrified and ran as fast as I could from that place…..


 

Been a while…

Now this sucks… we  haven’t posted in the longest of times.  The celebrities of the world are imploding on their dingleness.  Why do these people get worshipped?  After all they are just people.  They have all made lucky breaks and were just like you and I at one time. 

Heaven knows that Portzer #1 could be on some fetish site making a cool 2 mil a year in his parents basement web casting his fetish stuff dealing with poo, water slides and Richard Grieco posters.  But that is all based on luck.  We all possess wonderful abilities such as these to entertain the world. 

I will sexy dance like Richard Simmons to Yanni music if it means I will be able to enjoy a life of expensive cars and fine cheeses.  And that is probably the amount of intelligence I would have to display in order to be the next fixation of the general public. 

Sadly America wants to know what the likes of Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan and (insert combined names here. e.g. Bennifer, TomKat, etc.) are doing. 

In order for us to focus on things that matter I guess Nelson Mandela would have to get a rippin’ six pack and wear a speedo.  Stephen Hawking would have to go on a drinking binge, ram a bus stop and call the good samaritan picking him up sizzle chest.  Although it might be interesting.

It seems the majority of America is more apt to believe what is told to us than what we discover for ourselves.  So we can probably stop the whole retarded celebrity thing if we ignore it.  But hey, I’m talking about that stuff now anywho.  But I’m doing it more to make fun of the hoopla around it than to consume that shizzle like Pete Doherty with a syringe of heroin (celeb reference… drat…).

But I guess I’m getting all caught up in what matters rather than taking the time to smell the Rosie O’s big toxic talk show vaginga (va-jing-ga).

I almost made sense…  I think…

Portzer #2

What our Readers Want III

This is the ongoing post that answers the question, “What do our readers want and how can we help them to find it?” This information is taken directly from phrases of what people use to search our site.

Male crotch pics

Dirty dirty people….

muay + thai + money

You came to the right place my friends.  As you know two of us have fought for money growing up.  In fact that is how portzer #1 and I met.  On the mean streets of Philly at the age of 18 with machetes in hand.  Of course the machetes were for show but by golly it was showmanship at its best.

control by diapers

What type of control are you looking for?  Mind control is out of the question but you can control many things with a diaper.  In fact I could think of controlling the movements of the human body, other than bowel and bladder.  I’m talking about doing that straight up Jackie Chan style.

What to do for an animal with no bladder

I say you tie little Timmy’s marmoset to the tree and beat it with a shovel. HAHA… I kid, but seriously, WTH are you talking about?  You hook that bad boy up to a fur friendly colostomy bag and you love that animal to pieces.

maximum loads male enhancer pills

Now loaded male enhancer pills are a dangerous thing.  If you are looking at putting in a silver bullet and cocking back the hammer you are playing with fire my friend… with fire… ::dramatic hand gestures::

fergie stain

Yes the dirty hoo hoo dilly of Fergie is legendary throughout the land

aol layoff rumors

Yeah… we know… : \ 

picters of swiming pools

Well by cracky we got picters of grampa simmons floatin’ a poo boat in the pool.  Actually the pool is our cattle pond…

ROSIE O’DONNELL HIGH SCHOOL PICTURE

I repeat: “Dirty, dirty people”

getting ticks off of you

We know your secret… Although I heard you can burn them off with a lighter… I don’t know, I just heard that somewhere ::scratches leg and gets out lighter::

Portzer #2

Star Jones in the Wampa Cave

The Wampa that is Star Jones

Thanks to the portzer #1 for the absolutely ridiculous picture

Star Jones has finally left The View.  Not that I watched it or anything.  A bunch of post menopausal women and one token youngin talking about who they think is hunky doesn’t really draw me in as entertainment.

Barbara Walters sternly scolded Star for the way she left.  I believe this is what Walters said:
“We would have wet stawh jownes go with herwheh dignity but she decided to bite the buffet that fweeds her.  The twuth is that she is a cwack whore.  She lost all that weight fwum smoking the wock.  So with gweat regret I bid Staw Jones ado”

If Rosie O’Donnell would have been on the show at the same time as Jones they would have needed a larger table and The Dog Whisperer.  Cesar would be making his hand that signature bite shape and plunge it into the doughy necks the feral hosts posses.  The only problem is that they would bite him back and Mr. Millan would have to wear them down by hooking them each up to a tow chain attached to a multi-trailered semi.  Once he got them to pull him 100 miles or so he could train them in their new calm-submissive state.  Hooray for Ceaser Millan “The Dog Whisperer”.  Only he could sooth these savage beast women.  So their only choices were to let Star Jones go, put the big women down, or to bring in Cesar.  I say bring in Cesar cause I would watch that….

I think Star Jones will now start her journey towards the snow-capped peaks of Mt. Everest.  In 300 years she will be found in a cave resembling the Wampa inhabited in The Empire Strikes Back.  Except pack llamas and Gucci shoes would be hanging from the ceiling.  Jones will be found entombed in ice gnawing on a yak leg.  Next to her will lie the 64. oz big gulp she carted with her up the mountain.  Strangely it will be filled with gazpacho.  Her DNA will be tested and she will be touted as the missing link until a video surfaces showing Star Jones on The View.  From there she will be launched in a capsule on a path into the sun.  Never to be seen or feared again…

And you would fear her if there were hot sauce on your leg.

Portzer #2

Interview madness

The Circle Jerk.

In blogging, there is a term known as “The Circle Jerk”, today IRQportz tackles this controversial topic. No, this article isn’t about something derogatory. It is about the process in which bloggers who have fallen on rough times tend to interview each other in order to have something to talk about. This may seem somewhat ridiculous and you might think “what’s the point?” But, there is none. The circle jerk is a means of deriving blog content from meaningless banter with other bloggers of equal unimportance.

For example, several “techie” blogs will interview each other, and then post that interview on all three blogs, thereby each saving themselves the effort of writing an actual article. Additionally, it is hoped by interviewing each other they will obtain a sense of status in the tech community. However, most people with an IQ above 50 can see through this not-so clever ruse.

In honor of this great blogging tradition, IRQportz is going to take this one step further. Instead of bribing another blogger into interviewing us, or performing “blogual favors” for other blogs, we are going to interview ourselves! This is especially cheesy, and it is our hope that this surpasses the cheesiness of the blogs that circle jerk each other.

Today, IRQportzer #3 will be interviewing the the controversial yet informative, portzer #1. (Please stay tuned for the followup interview by portzer#2 as well).

The interview will now commense:

Irqportz#3: How long have you been working for AOL?

Irqportz#1: Hmm, let me think about that one. Amid the chaos and toil that’s been going on lately, I’ll have to jog my memory for a bit to recall this important detail. By the way, the last time I jogged, I ended up pulling my groin muscle while doing so. It was very painful and I had to seek medical attention. I don’t want to explain the personal problem in detail, but just imagine a cherry tomato being stuck in a visegrip and being pressed all the way. Oh, yeah, back to that question you asked me, sorry. I have been with AOL since March of 2004.

Irqportz#3: What was your child hood like?

Irqportz#1: Thats a most excellent question, my friend! Well, growing up, my family didn’t have much money. My father worked in a blast furnace, and brought home coal so that we could barbecue expired meat that my mother would bring home from second hand grocery stores.

(Irqportz#3: I see..)

Irqportz#1: Since the local newspaper fired me for delivering soiled newspapers, (yeah, sometimes we didn’t have any money to buy Charmin, so I would bring home some papers early in the morning so everyone could wipe the sludge from their behinds, then I would attempt to deliver these to customers I detested) so I found a job as a street fighter.

(Irqportz#3: That’s intense..)

Irqportz#1: I studied under the warrior-ship of Caonima Peoshi, a legend in those times. He taught me devastating moves such as: Ha-Poo-Ken, a close quarter move where I would blow freeze dried feces in an opponents eyes, disabling them for the entirety of the match, but sometimes it entered their mouth by accident. I was also taught the powerful Camel Tso (pronounced “toe” ) which would cripple my opponents by having them gaze at my ghastly crotch maneuver. The effects would last for days, even weeks, and those who already witnessed its power would automatically forfeit to me, allowing me to win. I eventually gained a six pack and attained the title of grand champion.

Irqportz#3: Well, that certainly answered that question. Probably too much info if you ask me.. In any case, back to the questions.

If you had to make a choice, which would you choose: Playtex gentle-glide or Tampax medium? (Please note that portzer#1 is male and this is merely an abstract question)

Irqportz#1: I find it funny that you should ask this question. Well, luckily, I have had experience with this arcane device. One time, I decided to drink an entire bottle of Stalin brand Vodka, which got me so intoxicated, I was able to communicate with street signs.

(Irqportz#3: I’m worried already..)

Irqportz#1: Well, the next day, I experienced severe “runny buttocks” syndrome, as well as a fever, headache, dystopia, and crotch rot, and still being at about 75% blood alcohol content, I decided to visit a drug store, in search of a rectal thermometer. I’m not sure what happened, but I ended up wandering into the feminine products section. Maybe it was the dazzling colors of the items that tantalized me, who knows.

Irqportz#1: In all the confusion and not to mention blurred vision, I ended up opening a box of Play-Tex gentle-glide, took my pants and underwear off, and began to put one in my behind, not knowing they were not meant for measuring temperature.

(Irportz#3: I’m speechless..)

Irqportz#1: Well, a sales associate saw me and instantly freaked, it looked like someone had just cast an unbreakable fear on them for 20 seconds; they began to run around the store uncontrollably with their hands above their head. While the employee that made first contact was busy vomiting in the store’s water fountain, another employee grabbed a phone and called the police.

Irqportz#1: I’m not sure how much later it was but when the cops appeared, they acted like they didn’t see me and tried to leave the store (the Play-Tex gentle-glide was still halfway in)

(Irqportz#3: That I did not need to know..)

Irqportz#1: The employee who was yakking earlier pointed to me and said, “where the *#$% are you going?? Thats the guy!! Take him away, HE’S RIGHT HERE!!” Well, I’m not sure what happened next, I sort of blacked out while I felt my body being lifted. While in the backseat of the squad car I was fading in and out between levels of consciousness then all of a sudden I felt a river of “molten brown lava” flow underneath me and all over the seat. Later on in court, I lucked out and ended up getting off the hook with no criminal record charges, the judge felt sorry for me and just made me pay the bill for having the backseat of that squad car cleaned out.

Irqportz#3: I don’t think there is a word that could adequately describe that situation. But we must move on.

How would you rate AOL’s likelihood to exist in 10 years?

Irqportz#1: ROFLMFAO!!!!!

Irqportz#3: It’s a serious question.

Irqportz#1: Ha, thats like asking if Brian Peppers will ever look normal and become the next Mother Theresa. ‘Nuff said.

Irqportz#3: Thanks for the comments. If there was a virtual reality feature that could enable you to reach through the phone line while taking calls, would you take advantage of it?

Irqportz#1: Oh hell yes! Why must you tease me with luxuries I will never own??!! I have been thinking about this concept for many moons. With all these devious thoughts in mind, what would the limit be? How long could we sabotage their residence before our light use plan runs out and summons us back on the other end of the phone? There are many vile things I would do to hi-jack someone living quarters and the owner themselves, but I stand tall and dare not mention that, for fear of the agents stumbling onto my plans and silencing me.

Irqportz#3: Agents? .. well, no matter. Last question:

Does anyone really eat fish tacos?

Irqportz#1: For Ariel, the Little Mermaid, anything goes, hehehe.

Irqportz#3: This concludes the interview, I want to thank Irqportz#1 from taking time out of his busy day to respond to our questions.

There you have it folks, please stay tuned for the second part in our two part series: Irqportz#1 gets interviewed by Irqportz#2.

The end is nigh…

So um, some people are freaked about tomorrow being 6-6-06 but hey we did live through 6-6-06 in the 1900's so I think we're good to go.  The real sign of the apocalypse will be more Ghostbusters style.  I think it will involve Richard Simmons as the Gatekeeper and Rosie O'Donnell as the Keymaster/Stay Puff Marshmellow woMAN.

"Fear the end, for the fluffy one shall walk the Earth seeking honey baked ham and a man of small stature, shorts, yet large puffy hair."

-Nagabamas