Giggle. Added to my bookmarks. Thanks.

No matter what the topic on Fark, some dumb bastard will take the contrarian side of it. Never fails. A repeat child molester out on parole attacks a kid and gets shot and killed by the victim's dad. A handful of morons will talk about how bad vigilante justice is and how this guy could have been rehabilitated.

How many hours of my life has been lost to the Internet? It's really shameful.

My favorite website of all? There's a website that shows who is in the Denton city jail along with a mug shot. I look at it at least once a day to see what kind of wheels-off people are there. Occasionally it's someone that I know, or that I've taught. Why do people get DWI's at 9 in the morning? How?

*Opens beer.* One day I was walking into my classroom and a couple of freshman girls were standing outside the door. They were giggling as people passed by. Then one said, "oooh, Mr. Hoob has big feet." Yes, they were looking at boys' feet and trying to figure out who had big weiners. I don't have big feet, but I certainly didn't correct them. I wonder whatever happened to those two girls.

This makes me wonder, what does it mean if a girl has big feet? A hotdog down a hallway situation? Or as Greggo would say, opening a gate and screwing a pasture? More research is needed on this subject.

For the first time in several years, I didn't buy my dad a father's day card. I don't feel guilty about it, either. It's his fault that I don't have big feet.

I really miss the website, howmanywouldittake.com. I don't think that hotnornot.com is a good substitute. A scarecrow could get a 7 rating on that site.

Yesterday I paid for another year's pass on the bike trail. It's $60, and well worth it. Otherwise it would be $5 per day. *Gets another beer*

When I rode the trail on Wednesday, a muscled-up guy and his girlfriend snubbed me, which made me really angry. Since I was sure I'd meet them on the return trip back, I had about 30 minutes to decide how I was going to retaliate. I decided the best thing to do was to say to the girl in a loud voice, "nice tits!" I'm sure I could outrun that guy, and if things got really bad, I'd just draw my gun and defend myself.

My plan was thwarted. They both smiled and said hello to me. Rats.

Here go we again.

I bought something from overstock.com the other day, but I didn't get the "O." I didn't even get an erection. What a ripoff. I hope that company goes under.

What would my high school typing teacher say if she knew I was typing stuff like this, drunk, and cussing online? Well, she's dead now, so I guess that doesn't matter so much.

Tonight we played for some guy's birthday party. Just as the women were getting liquored up and dancing all sexy-like, it began to rain, ending our show and ruining our fun. Dammit to hell. Not only that, Hoob Acres didn't get much rain at all, and I fertilized yesterday. I wish I could have yuppie grass for a change.

ESPN.com called the soccer game vs. Italy a thriller. Really? A drag race between two grannies is a thriller, too. A fight between Richard Simmons and George Michael would be a thriller.

I don't have much to say tonight except, I'm dirty, my clothes were wet when I got home, and I have another show to play tomorrow. Maybe I'll come home sober for a change.

Hoob.

I feel like cutting my wrists with steak knifes after reading that.

Blogs aren't there for other people to read, especially the drunken ramblings from some old man.

now you know how we feel when we read your posts.

I'm in heaven now. Just ate cold pizza as a midnight snack.

Played a wedding reception tonight. Drinking was allowed, which made it a good one. I hate playing non-drinking wedding receptions. The wife...beautiful. Nearly every other woman there, doable.

My dogs gave me father's day cards. My wife gave me a Black and Decker electric crescent wrench. In other words, I got an super duper Mexican socket set for father's day.

We have an ant problem at Hoob acres. I wonder if the ants at Pee-Wee's playhouse got out again.

Good grief, Mavericks. Aren't you better than that?

Put away the steak knives, Stink. I'm done already.

Hoob.

It's funny to see the drunks out on the road at 2:30 a.m. They are either driving 40 mph in a 60, or driving 90 in a 60. Hey, fellers, just use uh, what's it called...cruise control, like ol' Hoob does. You'll get home, eventually.

If I hadn't played the "I'm married" card tonight, I might be underneath a fat woman right now. I imagine one of my friends is under one now in my place. Yikes.

Everyone in the world likes my beard except for my wife.

While driving to tonight's gig, I passed through a thunderstorm in Dallas. There were dozens of lightning strikes. Then I passed by a lake, which was only 4 miles from the storm. There were about a dozen boats on the lake, and many were pulling skiiers. Can somebody tell me why these dumbasses deserved to live?

I am 0 for 2 in ordering the chicken on the barbee at Outback. Next time I'm ordering a shit sandwich. Can't be any worse.

Fuck the World Cup, and the horse it rode in on. I guess in this case, I should say, fuck the donkey it rode in on.

A friend of mine figured out that for every attractive woman we saw tonight, there were three ugly ones out nearby. Statistics are fun when you have a beer in your hand.

The stats aren't that great when looking at the poor unfortunates in the Denton City jail. I love that website. Some of the mug shots are hilarious.

You know, typing this makes me want to cut my wrists with steak knives. You know?

Hoob.

Went to an indoor gun range today. Fun, expensive, noisy, and short-lived. Kinda like a Hoob roll in the hay.

I attempted to make my targets more life-like today to see if it improved my accuracy. On one of them, I drew meth teeth on the guy pictured on the target. I had several bulls-eyes as a result. My friend tried putting a sombrero on my target, but that failed miserably. I just can't hate on the Mex.

Discovered that a plum of a job is now open, but the administrators are going to wait a couple of weeks to fill it. The problem is, I legally can't change teaching jobs after Monday. I even called this school and spoke with the superintendent. He just didn't understand why they should get on the stick and hire someone. So I'm stuck at Mickey Mouse High School for another year, and the plum school will get a beginner when they could have had Hoob. Sigh.

My wounds from my two bike wrecks are nearly healed. Yesterday my mountain bike went over the 1,000 mile mark. My road bike? Only 175 miles. Pitiful.

Where's the cocksack button on this thing? I'm thinking about deleting this thread.

Hoob.

This is my favorite thread running right now.

Leave the cocksack buttons to the music blogs and the James Bond movie blogs.

Not all of us can be stinkfinger.

There was cold pizza waiting for drunk Hoob when I got home. How great is that? My wife just made up for all the stupid shit she has pulled the last couple of days. And trust me, she had a lot to make up for. Good thing I didn't cheat on her tonight or I'd really feel guilty.

Because I am somewhat open-minded, I attempted to watch the Germany vs. Argentina soccer match today. I was pulling for the Krauts because my real name, Hoobenstein, is a German name. Although I was happy that my countrymen won, this game was not interesting at all. You could say that it sucked balls.

Tonight I saw a a middle-aged woman who was a "little miracle." I stared at them. She enjoyed it. Me too. The experience would have been better if she hadn't been wearing a fucking tube top.

If you are making out with a woman and she is wearing a tube top, do your fingers immediately rot off if you touch the tube top? I'd kinda like to know without experiencing it myself.

Well, the red-shoed Rangers finally hit the win column. They did it against the Astros. When I was a kid, we had a Little League team called the Astros. Everybody called them the ass holes, even our moms.

In the 12 years I have lived here, there has always been at least one milf within eyesight of my house. But not now. It's horrible. Who let the cows out?

I imagine that Saturday night's gig will be non-drinking, so I'll visit with you sumbitches in a week or so.

Hoob.

Drinking on a Tuesday night. I think that someone needs to come up with a club for people who drink on Tuesdays.

Michael Young=Fucking A. He's won a batting title and still, those east coast fucksticks don't know who he is.

Work is killing me. Oh, wait. I don't go back to work for a month. Time for another beer.

I've had my concealed handgun license for two years, but I've never carried my heater into a grocery store. Until last Saturday night. In San Antonio.

Speaking of S.A., what a graffiti-filled craphole that place is these days. Dallas isn't nearly as bad. Every inch of the city has stupid dumbass gang graffiti on it. The overhead signs on I-35? Some are now painted by dumbass gangsters. Had to go to a mall, saw exactly two doable girls there. Saw about 5,000 girls with FUPAs, even though I went through a Foley's. It was pitiful, and the mayor should do something about it. Today.

On a more positive note, today I saw a hot girl (about 25) walking two chihuahuas in this heat. One of the overheated dogs noticed I had just watered the lawn and stretched out on the wet grass to cool off. I took the opportunity to run out with some water for those pups. What a seedy and opportunistic old man I am.

The idea of a mail-order bride intrigues me. If Mrs. Hoob ever runs me off, I'm going mail-order for my next piece. Can you imagine, having sex with someone whose only words you can comprehend are, "mmmm, ooooooh, mmmmm!" Anything else she says will be Russian gibberish.

Hoobivostok.

hoob = greatness. :soppy:

The beginning of a three-day drunk.

Today=suck. The morning started off with a great ride, the goodest I've had this year. I was on top of the world. If only I'd gone to bed right after it. *Opens beer.*

I've been goofing around with sequencing software for my synthesizers and it just won't work right, and I spent $400 on it, and I'm sick of this stuff, and, and, and, I AM SICK OF YOU ALL!!! F EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU! I WISH YOU'D ALL DROP DEAD! *Staggers out into yard, empties clip at the nearby apartments.*

Sorry about that. As a result of this anguish, I'm kicking around the idea of becoming a Mac Queer. That should fix the problem but put me in some debt. Aw, fuck it. Every summer I have one goal. My one goal this summer was to get this thing up and running, and I'm a-gonna.

I'm wearing a stupid Cowboy hat right now. But it fits. And I'm not chugging on milk. *Goes and gets beer.*

I wish I could delete certain Ticket drops from home. In fact, I wish I could just erase them all and they could just start over.

Seeing Michelle Wie being carted off on a stretcher today made me scratch my balls in wonder. Why does she do this to herself?

I really need to quit cussing. Every summer my friends and I have to clean up our acts before school starts. It's a matter of time before I introduce myself to my kids like this: "I'm Mr. Hoob, and if you don't follow the 5 rules that are posted on the wall, I'm gonna kick your ass."

I am better than that. Really.

If I don't go to jail tomorrow night, I'll be back for more "wisdom" when I get home. Try the veal.

Hoob.

Replying to myself. A sure sign of drunkenness.

One of my friends got a handjob tonight from a cute girl. It sounds stupid, doesn't it. But he got more than I got. So my record in the handjob league is now 0-1.

Pete Coors got a DWI. Isn't that like Hugh Hefner getting sued for sexual harrassment?

I just now walked my dogs at 3:30 a.m. but I didn't use leashes. If my wife caught me doing this, she'd probably break one of her feet while kicking me in the ass. But she's out of town for the weekend and I'm never going to bring this little fact up. For what it's worth, the dogs were perfect angels and made it home alive.

Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper will certainly fuck up a computer keyboard. Found that out this afternoon.

Listened to the orphanage this morning while doing car maintenance. Not bad.

Watched the Rangers beat Chris Benson last night. What does his horny wife see in that guy?

Geez, the sun will be coming up soon. I'm going to bed, dammit. Of all the lame entries I've ever made on this board, this one is the worst. I don't deserve to live.

Hoob.

Man can Hoob drink.

It needs to stop. Tomorrow.

"Tomorrow" better be along the lines of Wimpy's "Second Tuesday of next week"

Good gosh a-mighty Joe Friday. The Mickey show might have been the worst Ticket show ever. I'm guessing that Bill Jones is a good guy, and I feel sorry for him. I don't feel sorry for Mickey.

If you are offended by the word "fuck," you probably oughta skip to the next paragraph. I am so fucking pissed off about computers, music, and sequencing that I'm going to my school to work on Thursday so I won't be tempted to fuck with it for awhile. Bought a fucking Mac this weekend, and it doesn't do any better than the fucking Dell did. In fact, it's worse, fucking worse. I thought these queer boxes automatically saw things that you plugged in to the USB port. But NOOOOOOOOO. You have to install drivers that don't work. The piece of shit cunt monkey cock sucking mother fucker queerbait crotch rot whore dog never recognized the USB interface box. And fuck me for being surprised. I became a Mac fag for nothing.

On a more positive subject, I like beer.

The Texas governor's race has the worst four candidates that I've ever laid eyes on. I'm a far right-winger, but there is no way that I'm voting for the current governor.

Tomorrow will be a better day. And Stinkfinger needs to post more.

Weeknight drunk Hoob blogging = a summer Christmas present. what?

I admit it. I love the Big Joe Polka Show. I hate Polka music, but this show has something for everyone: bad music, bad dancing and ugly people on TV. This week I watched 30 minutes of non-sports programming: all of it was the Big Joe Polka Show.

Here's something that should be outlawed: women posing nude on wicker furniture. Nobody can screw on wicker, not even teenagers. So don't pose on it.

I finally conquered my music sequencing issues (on my own) and no longer feel like killing everyone.

I wonder what ever happened to the All Guitar Band. They used to have humorous ads on late night TV. Unintentional humor is the best kind. Kinda reminds me of this blog.

I've never paddled a student, but if I ever do, I'm taking a swing like Happy Gilmore. It's ok. I have liability insurance.

August is just around the corner, and the Rangers are still playing meaningful baseball. For the life-long Rangers fan, life is wonderful.

If Blackie Sherrod had ever written a scattershooting while drunk, it probably would have looked about like this.

Hoob.

It's a pleasure posting with you, sir.

This blog is all about anger.

That Ford model year clearance commercial that begins with the guy singing, "I get what I want" needs to go away. The only thing more annoying is James Blunt's "Your Beautiful."

I think I'm going to find out who is responsible for stealing my lawn mower gas can out of my garage and destroy them. What's with these mofos stealing, anyway. It's not like I live in the hood.

Good grief, there's that damned commercial again.

There are some kids who pass by every few weeks and egg all of the cars that park in the street on my side. This has been going on for over a year now. I never parked out there before, and I'm sure not gonna now.

Just now watched the video of "And She Was" by the Talking Heads and it made me happy. I love the eighties.

The latest ratings book is out, and it Ticket got a 2.8, which is pretty good. They did it without much support from Hoob, who thinks that their act has become tiresome.

Just saw the video of the black kid who sucker punched the old man at the McDonald's and broke the old guy's jaw. Good grief. I'd like to spit Beech Nut in that dude's eye and shoot him with my old forty-five.

I am not kidding, either.

Hoob.

My liver=petrified. I=don't care.

It's amazing how much bad baseball has been played in Arlington on I-30.

I believe Floyd Landis.

Lonely women make good lovers.

Rode the off-road trail on Friday. Much more fun than last time. Only hit one tree, but fortunately I dead-centered it and my helmet took the brunt of the hit. Stories like this drive my wife crazy.

A friend of mine had grex with a woman on a dirt road in BROAD DAYLIGHT yesterday. Both are married to other people and are in their late thirties. She=beautiful. He=not so much.

Many people my age live their lives vicariously through their kids. Me? I live my life through that guy in the previous paragraph.

I have another friend that I expect to die very soon due to being shot by an enraged husband. Pussy makes people do strange things.

Insert cliche from a stupid country song here.

Hoob.

Where would I be without cloning software? Today I love it long time. I ran into a guy last year who was an IT person in a school and had never heard of Ghost. Geez Louise.

A few years ago, my mom foolishly bought an Oldsmobile Alero. Because of that lemon, my mom has a money pit on wheels and can't afford to buy another car because she is retired. Now I'm going to have to buy her a car and I'm bitter about it. I hope the over-paid assembly line workers who assembled that thing dies of AIDS. Do you think any of those stupid bastards ever drove an Alero? No way.

Shit balls of fire, Mark Teixeira just hit one out in the 12th inning. I bet that made the baseball Antichrist happy.

Good lord, there are still a lot of MLB players who have a dip in their mouth while playing. It's replaced the chaw for sure. Nasty.

Although I make fun of blogs and bloggers, I love the D magazine blog and read it every day.

I love the advent of football season. Of course I love college and pro ball, but I love high school, too. I especially love 1A school ball, and this year I am going to road trip to a 6-man game for the heck of it.

Hello win column. Suck it, rally monkey.

Hoob.

The Hoob blog is always a good read.

I've got one of those shady relatives that likes to "borrow" money from my parents. By borrow I mean take and never pay back. Recently he's started living with them and "helping" them. And by helping I mean he's a drunken unemployed leach who's bleeding them dry.

Anyhow, without mine or my sibling's knowledge, he somehow convinced my elderly saint of a mother to take out a loan against her car (totally paid off). So I find out yesterday the piece of shit fly-by-night financing company that he got them involved with repossessed my mom's car because he didn't pay back the $2500 he received. The car's a 2005, and I'm sure the book value is much more than $2500. So I got to make everything better out of my savings cause this guys a no account douche. So essentially the fucker got me to loan him $2500 bucks without ever having to ask.

Once the AID is finished with your complacent autoworker, would you mind sending some my relative's way?

Good grief, that's terrible. I think an M-16 might be what you need.

jesus, what a cock smoker. You should ask Cap for one of his lunch darkies to go after that ass.

you need blow for that

that's where we get Stink involved.

Good grief, were any sober people on the road tonight? I've never seen anything like this in my life.

First, I had to take evasive action to miss a PT Cruiser that was taking up three lanes.

Then I saw something that made me say "what the fuck:" A tow truck was in a wild death race with three crotch rockets. On Stemmons. And one of the bikes had someone riding bitch. I wonder what that poor girl was thinking while tagging along at 100 mph. Maybe she was thinking, what are we doing racing a fucking tow truck? It was the damndest thing I've ever seen.

And then a couple of miles down the road, that PT Cruiser drilled a pickup, knocking it into a ditch. Just like a good NASCAR driver, I picked a path, drove through the smoke and dust, avoided the debris on the road, and hauled ass. Like Ted Kennedy, I was guilty of leaving the scene of an accident.

Sad news: the great Susan Butcher has died. She was a 4-time Iditarod winner and was a classy champion. She had leukemia. No, it wasn't cat leukemia.

One year when she was leading the race, she had to stop because A COUPLE OF HER DOGS DECIDED THAT THEY HAD TO SCREW. She had to wait for them to get done before she could continue.

My 65 year old neighbor was still up when I pulled in at 1:20 a.m. and the TV was on. What could she be watching at that hour? Rest home porn?

Need proof that ESPN has jumped the shark? The other day on their website they had an article about a dang rock-paper-scissors tournament. I am not making this up.

I noticed on the Dallas Off-Road Bicycle Association (DORBA) website that they have a trail about 20 miles from my mom's house. I'm going to ride it on Monday, but there is no map of the trail. I might be making my next drunken entry with two broken arms.

It was so wonderful to have two half-breed dogs jump on me when I walked into the door tonight. I am so thankful to be living the good life.

Hoob.

Tim Rogers has given me smilemouf since his days as a writer for The Met.

There needs to be a limit on how many of these I do in a week. It will slow down greatly once school begins in about a week. When DOES school start?

I just now downloaded (stole) a song called "Little Willy" by Sweet. Who would make up a song about their pecker and turn it into a hit?

It just occurred to me to look up the very first mp3 that I pilfered. How about "No One Is to Blame" by Howard Jones? I must have been drunk when I downloaded that one. Ssssssssspare.

I hurt my back last week and everything I do hurts it more: sleeping, driving a car, riding a bike, walking, thinking about having grex, everything. Not being able to bike really pisses me off because I had just gotten into pretty good shape. But all is not lost. I can still drink. I do have that going for me.

Figuring that my back would be better today, I was planning on riding a new trail this morning. Called and spoke with a friendly park ranger to see if they got rain, and the first thing she told me was, "the restrooms are closed." What? If my mom hadn't been in the room, I would have told her that I always piss in the woods and didn't need their silly restrooms, anyway. Or better still, I should have asked her where she took a leak when nature called.

I told you about the swans that they live in the park. Then I told you about our kid, now he's married to Mabel.

Hopefully, nobody has a queerer avatar than I do. I think I'm going to kick my own ass now.

Hoob.

is the walrus still paul?

Been there. Call meh.

Oh my gosh. So many people got hauled in tonight for drinking and driving. But not Hoob.

Before our gig got started tonight, I walked into the restroom and some drunk guy was throwing up. Man, if you have to throw up before 8:00, you're a dumb sumbitch.

Most of my friends found reasonably cute women to hook up with tonight. I am happy for them. Me? Some old nag that's about my Mom's age tried to pick me up. She did everything but put her petrified hands down my pants. Once again, I had to claim that I'm married to avoid putting my weiner into the equivalent of a pickle slicer. It's really pathetic.

I saw some fat people bow up to one another and act like they were gonna fight but they didn't. Pussies.

And motherfuck Taco Cabana with a smelly strapon. You won't let me carry my piece into your restaurants? That's your legal right, but it's gonna cost ya. I've eaten breakfast at your businesses almost every weekend for the last ten years, but I won't be eating there tomorrow. Fuck yourself and fuck your squeaky tortilla machine, too. If these ignorant fuckers knew how hard it was to get this license, they'd give us our eggs Mexicana for free.

Three black guys die and go to the Pearly Gates. Oh, you've heard that one? Never mind.

I am really drunk, but not as drunk as Mel Gibson. And in spite of all the negative things I said above, I had fun toasjdkfjazzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Hoob.