Sanjaya’s big pink vagaya tastes like curry.

Okay, I tuned in again this week to rub one out to Haley Scarnato (who I’m convinced does hard core pornography on the internets) but found myself unable to complete the task at hand (haha) because that little butt ninja had what might have been the most Hershey flavored hairdo I have ever seen.

That Pony Hawk as he called it was more flaming than a neon red hot Cheeto. Seven pony tails for good luck? How about seven pony tails — one for each day of the week that he wants to cure his sore throat with Ryan Seacrest’s meat lozenge.

Okay, so the real reason I’m writing is to remind everybody that 420 is coming up. Hells yeah! So to get you in the mood here are some lists I came up with while smoking some chrony…

TOP 10 STONER INJURIES
10. Three car collision
9. Burnt eyebrows
8. Low sperm count
7. Burnt thumb
6. Burnt throat
5. Crossed eyes
4. Burnt asshole
3. Emphysema
2. Burnt pee pee hole
1. Hacky sack knee

TOP 7 TYPES OF PEOPLE I HATE TO SMOKE WEED WITH
7. Droolers
6. Horrible storytellers
5. Rookies
4. Abuse victims that flashback to a terrifying assault and start saying things like, “Daddy, why? Please stop, oh God in Heaven, please stoooooop!!”
3. Double tokers
2. Mormons
1. The weedless

TOP 5 WAYS TO CLOAK THE SMELL OF WEED WHEN YOU ARE OUT OF INCENSE
5. Burn your pubic hair
4. Squeeze a little Ben Gay on top of each bowl
3. Burn your doggy’s pubic hair
2. Fry up some sausage
1. Keep Gatorade jugs of your urine festering throughout your residence

25. And it’s the Trojans going up against the Beavers

24. He stuffed it in the hole

23. He just rammed it down the throat of the D

22. Now there’s a perfect backdoor

21. He poked it loose

20. When you deny, you set yourself up for the backdoor

19. He’s all over him

18. He measures it

17. He must come to meet the ball

16. The V cut looks nice

15. You don’t get floor burns like those from being a virgin

14. The ball fake got him again

13. He just needs to attack the hole with more aggression

12. None of these guys can score

11. He got stripped

10. Spins baseline trying to get inside

9. He gave him the old up and under

8. He tickled the silk with that finger roll

7. He gave him the old wrap around

6. Take it to the rack

5. There is no hesitation in his stroke

4. He’s starting to feel it

3. He did it while he was bent over and wide open.

2. He loves the money shots

1.The penetration created the scoring opportunity for Johnson

I tuned into American Idol tonight because people keep talking about some Indian ‘mo named Sangina and how bad he is.

However, homo-finger-pointing can only entertain me for so long, and as any red- blooded - God - fearing - war - supporting - apple - pie - eating heterosexual American, I was pleasantly surprised that the opening act was a beautiful brunette named Haley Scarnato. What a hot piece of ass! What yum yum yummy cans. And those legs. Those smooth sweet silky thighs. Yeah I said it. So what? You were thinking it, perv.

Haley sang some song and supposedly did a great job, but I couldn’t pay attention. I started playing with my own microphone if you know what I mean (and if you don’t, what I mean is I intend to record my own demo and eventually participate in an American Idol casting call despite my lack of previous musical training thanks to her inspiration).

Anyhow, one thing led to another and I decided to use the skilled research techniques I have picked up over the years at Drunk University to see if I could dig up any dirt on sweet little miss Haley. I quickly ran over to my computer box and typed in www.google.com. Then, in the search thingamajig, I carefully inputed: Haley + nude. Holy shit! There’s a crap load of pictures of her on the net.

American Idol doing air tight, American Idol doing some ATM, and American Idol Haley Scarnato taking some interracial poundings. What a star. Vote for Haley Scarnato.

She’s hot and she does porn, I think…

Recently, a lady friend pointed out her disgust with my hairy butt.

“It looks like you have a porcupine sticking out of it… haven’t you ever noticed?”

I admit, it is hard to get a clean wipe. Bits of crap and TP create an entangled mess that I feel every time I play Twister or do the Running Man.

So in an effort to appease the skeez, I pried my cheeks apart while showering and tried to blindly shave this sensitive area but ended up with an anal sphincter that was bloodier than a convict’s doo door after his first night up in the pen, yo. And, of course, the hair only grew back fuller and thicker– making it look like I have Tito Jackson jammed up my arse.

I actually became so self-conscious that I only performed the nasty with my lady if I could wear my tightey-whiteys. I’d just thrust my wing ding through the pee flaps and save us both from my embarrassing assfro.

Then one day, I came across Nads. A magical gel that claims to eliminate unwanted body hair and prevents it from growing back. I fingered the gooey Nads and creamed my crapper as if I were spreading mustard on a hot dog bun. At first, it felt awkwardly euphoric like when you take your first placenta-less shit as a newborn but as I wiped the Nads grease from my butt crack I felt the scarring of a lifetime. Nads scalded my rectum.

Yes, I do realize this entire article was just an excuse to disgust you. Gotcha.

The South 4o (A single panel Comic Strip by David Huntsberger)

A recent survey by a campus group revealed some astonishing results. Many students admit they fake conversations while walking to class in order to boost self esteem.

Rather than meeting and conversing with fellow students, some choose to enact a lively, fictitious rapport with an imagined receiver.

“Sometimes, I act like I’m having a conversation with Gwenn and I totally ask her about that yodeling song and she calls me A-rock ‘cause my name is Amanda and…” revealed freshman Amanda Schwartz.

The traumatic pressure from society forces many young students to make up for their self-imposed shortcomings by promoting a façade of vast relationships and meaningful events through fabricated conversations. Others see the person on the phone and think they actually have a life. Manny Cointreau relates his thoughts.

“Everyone always asks who I’m talking to. I tell ‘em business associates mostly, sometimes my friends from Europe I met on a backpacking trip or my anthropological colleagues from South Africa. In reality, I hate white Africans and haven’t even been to Mexico. Thanks cell phone!”

What’s up with the big tittied chicks who don’t flash the flesh on spring break? All four of her drunken slut friends French kiss each other and give up the boobs and gash shots but for some reason this fifth wheel is too self conscious or not drunk enough or way lame.

Why did you even come on this trip and not become a skank when you knew that Spring Break is all about skanking? Do you have exceptionally lengthy nipple hair or a pooga scar or an embarrassing tan line? No dudes give a shit about that shit. I mean, shit, at least shake your ass to the beat and jiggle them soggy gobstoppers. I’ll allow you to gaze at my Zeus-like pectorals and sculpted latissimus dorsi muscles. Do something to give my buddies and me a chubby, baby!

And what’s up with nobody boozing in the crowds at these MTV2 Spring Break deals? It’s understood that there may be a rule against promoting alcohol during the taping of these shows. So why are you there? Do all these fratboys and posers like listening to Aaron Carter that much? Jesus Christ, you rookies should at least be packing a flask of whiskey and have a couple tallboys in your shorts. You flabby, flabby pussies.

On a side note, here are some specific questions I have from last year’s Spring Break…

What’s up with sand stuck in lady’s genitalia? Last Spring Break I was porking this redhead and got third degree cock burns from the scraping friction.

And what’s up with no Mexicans selling good ecstasy in Rosarito? Someone could be making a ton of scrilla if they had the dope game on lock.

And finally, what’s up with that fat drunk guy that nobody knows and has been sleeping in the corner for the past three days? Wake me up next time, you assholes. I had to hitchhike back to SDSU. Thank god for God Mormons were down there that week trying to convert sluts and drunks.