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The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Feb 15, 2017
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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Hope He Had an Epidural
Dumbledork

Otis Redding’s “Try a Little Tenderness” was featured in this week’s Round 2, which I enjoyed thoroughly. He’s probably best known for “(Sittin’ On) The Dock of the Bay,” which is also good, but “Try a Little Tenderness” is my jam. Definitely my favorite Redding song. The best part about his singing is his delivery, and I do mean “delivery.” When he really gets into it, he does this screamy-growly kinda thing, as if he’s birthing the words rather than singing them. This vocal attribute’s up front and center in this track, especially toward
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


  • Quiz Image
The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Feb 08, 2017
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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I Hear They're Relocating To Purgatory
Dumbledork

This week’s quiz had a question about Charles Haley, which got me thinking about the glory days of the 49ers. I’m old enough to remember that sublime stretch of time, the years of Bill Walsh and George Seifert, Joe Montana and Steve Young, Jerry Rice and Brent Jones. And presiding over it all, Eddie DeBartolo Jr. Those were the days, young whippersnappers. Thirteen division titles in 17 seasons. Five conference championships and five Super Bowl wins in that same span. They were dominant. Always in the hunt. A team to be feared. And then the Dark Days descended upon us. DeBartolo was out, and the Yorks moved in. True, DeBartolo’s last season was the first losing
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


  • Quiz Image
The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Feb 01, 2017
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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Reality Bites
Dumbledork

This week’s quiz had a question about David Harbour’s speech at the SAG Awards. It’s gotten quite a bit of attention, but mostly because of the bizarre mugging of Winona Ryder, which is a shame. While acknowledging that there are issues far more important than his show and its award, he asserted that he and his fellow entertainers can influence the world for the better. It was a nice change of pace from the doom and gloom going ‘round these days. If it’s worth anything at all, art imitates life. Subtly or overtly, it can shine a light on what it means to be alive, whether it’s via macroscopic
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


  • Quiz Image
The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Jan 25, 2017
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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Furpocalypse Now
Dumbledork

Our visual round this week was on endangered animals. I could talk about how sad that is, and how humanity’s shitty and self-absorbed and shortsighted, but that’d be a real downer, right? So instead, here are some reasons why these animals deserve extinction. Chimps: I’ve seen enough Planet of the Apes movies to know that they’re getting what they deserve. There will be no ape uprising in this reality, thank you very much. Española giant tortoises: I don’t trust anything that takes its home with it everywhere it goes. They’re like the Gypsies of the animal kingdom, and
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


  • Quiz Image
The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Jan 18, 2017
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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You Can Call Her Queen Bee
Dumbledork

This week we learned that Salt-N-Pepa performed “Push It” at Nelson Mandela’s 70th birthday tribute. I have to admit that when I think “Nelson Mandela” the words “push it real good!” don’t spring immediately to mind. Well, they didn’t before this, anyway. He was still imprisoned at the time, and I’m sure the idea was to raise awareness about apartheid in general and Mandela in particular, so the biggest and brightest stars of the day were recruited for the concert. After all, who better to raise awareness about a dire situation than musical superstars? It worked for “We Are the World,” right? But unlike
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


  • Quiz Image
The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Jan 11, 2017
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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Ooooooo, Navy Seals!
Dumbledork

There are a couple of reasons why there’s a special place in my heart for Clerks. First, it came out while I was in high school, and it was unlike anything my friends and I had ever seen. Edgy in all the right ways (“In a row?!”), full of quotable material (“Did he say ‘Making fuck’?”)…hell, it even had a friggin’ involved conversation about the moral implications of blowing up the Death Star. Teenage mind = blown. As time wore on, the movie took on new meaning as I found myself in the customer service industry. There’s nothing like working at a customer service desk to make you realize how much of humanity walks
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


  • Quiz Image
The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Jan 04, 2017
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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Doesn't Get Much More Interesting Than This
Dumbledork

So the House decided that they didn’t need an ethics committee, which is a pretty brazen move, even for them. Thankfully, they thought better of gutting the committee and backtracked, but it’s all a pretty good indication that we can’t trust most of our Representatives (certainly not the ones who voted yes on that particular scheme). These guys are looking out for #1, and “#1” clearly ain’t their constituents. So that’s fun! And it doesn’t bode well for the future. Regardless, this Congress appears to be even more useless to your Average Joe than usual. We’d better pay extra-close attention to these d-bags, or they’ll soon
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


  • Quiz Image
The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Dec 28, 2016
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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2016: Year of the Never-Ending Dumpster Fire
Dumbledork

Well, that was the last quiz of 2016. I’d say that’s kind of sad, but 2016 blew goats! If 2016 was a person, it’d be a creepy old dude who goes around kicking puppies and yelling at infants. And killing every celebrity you ever loved. Can’t forget that. Can’t say I have high hopes for 2017, but—I’m sure this will come as a shock—I’m a pessimist. Plus, saying something like “it can’t get any worse than 2016” is just asking for the start of the apocalypse. No need to tempt fate. But hey, maybe we can set the bar really low: let’s try to get through the next year without the moon exploding. That should
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


  • Quiz Image
The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Dec 21, 2016
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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North Koreans Say the Darndest Things
Dumbledork

This week we learned that Kim Jong-il supposedly managed not one, not two, but five holes in one the first time he played golf. He and his son, currently North Korean dictator Kim Jong-un, are responsible for an astounding number of other fantastical achievements. Here are some of my favorites: —Kim Jong-il was walking three weeks after birth, and talking at 8-weeks-old. —Not to be outdone, Kim Jong-un is said to have had a full set of teeth at the age of 10 months. —At the age of 6, Kim Jong-il successfully landed a helicopter after his pilot had a heart attack. —When Kim Jong-un was 9, he won a yacht race against the CEO of
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


  • Quiz Image
The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Dec 14, 2016
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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Bring On the Krampi!
Dumbledork

We had a round on Krampus this week, which I loved because he’s my spirit animal (spirit demon?). Like members of every aging generation, I’m convinced that young people aren’t as *insert virtue here* as they were when I was their age. Back when I was a kid, if someone had a peanut allergy they just ate their damn peanut butter and jelly sandwich and stabbed themself with an Epipen once their throat closed up completely. Let me tell you, those were the days. As any proper curmudgeon can tell you, Krampus should have a much larger role in the modern Christmas season. Sure, sure, we threaten kids with coal if they don’t behave, but so what? Other than offering
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


  • Quiz Image
The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Dec 07, 2016
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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Quite Interesting
Dumbledork

We had a question about Q.I. this week, which made my geeky heart slightly less black for a second there. It’s not well known here in the States, but it’s a fantastic show. Take a well-learned host, add some celebrity guests, and throw in Alan Davies as the ever-present but lovable punching bag, and you’ve got a solid half hour of television. The fun of it is that most of the time people are just bullshitting. The topics are so obscure that it’s rare that someone knows what’s going on. It’s amusing to not only hear the witty (and not-so-witty) banter that results, but to also see the guests work towards the correct answer with gentle (and
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


  • Quiz Image
The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Nov 30, 2016
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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"Militant Buddhists" Seems Like an Oxymoron
Dumbledork

This week’s quiz mentioned the good old-fashioned ethnic cleansing going on in Burma. It appears the Buddhist government doesn’t care for the Muslims in the country, hence the killing and maiming. Most religions at least sorta have an excuse for this kind of thing. They’ve got stuff about being the Chosen People, or converting infidels, or crap like that. Awful and/or stupid people are bound to use that kind of thing as justification for all manner of misdeeds. It’s inevitable. But if there are similar tenets in Buddhism, I sure haven’t come across them. Seems like a relatively difficult religion to cock up, all things considered. Yet somehow it
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


  • Quiz Image
The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Nov 23, 2016
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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Oy, With the Blogging Already!
Dumbledork

As noted in this week’s quiz, Gilmore Girls has new episodes coming out on Friday after a nine and a half year layoff. Normally this news would be essentially meaningless to me, but I’m the theme quiz editor, and let’s just say that it seems pretty relevant right now. As such, I’m binge-watching the show, since editing things is easier when you’re familiar with the subject. Surprisingly, I don’t dislike the show. It’s not something I’d have gone out of my way to watch, but it’s a relatively standard female-oriented drama with above-average dialogue. It could be much worse: it could be Sex and the City. Best
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


  • Quiz Image
The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Nov 16, 2016
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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Same Diff, Right?
Dumbledork

I’ve always loved stand up comedy, so I was excited about this week’s Round 7 on comedians. The round included Kumail Nanjiani, who you may recognize from Silicon Valley. But just in case you don’t know him—or happen to be a writer for Salon—it’s worth noting that he is not, in fact, Kunal Nayyar, who plays Raj on The Big Bang Theory. It’s totally cool if you thought he was, though. Both guys have the same initials, and they both have two-syllable first names. And c’mon; Kunal and Kumail are essentially the same name.
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


  • Quiz Image
The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Nov 09, 2016
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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Blahg
Dumbledork

Don’t have much to say (nothing nice, anyway), but there are still plenty of stats and track listings for you to peruse. See you guys next week.   Track List: Nathaniel Rateliff & The Night Sweats – S.O.B. John Cougar Mellencamp – Hurts So Good Rancid – Maxwell Murder Big Boi vs. LCD Soundsystem – Shutterbug Yrslf The Buggles – Video Killed the Radio Star The B-52s – Rock Lobster Nirvana – Rape Me New Order – Crystal Boyz II Men – Motownphilly Cake – Sheep Go To Heaven The Jackson 5 –
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


  • Quiz Image
The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Nov 02, 2016
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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Don't Say I Didn't Warn You
Dumbledork

So Budweiser delivered a bunch of beer with a self-driving truck. To that I say, “Who gives a crap?” I’m not sure what the fascination with self-driving vehicles is all about. In fact, I think it’s an awful idea for two primary reasons. 1. I like to drive. I’ll admit, pretty much everyone else drives like a batch of inbred morons, and that’s exceptionally aggravating. I’ve often wondered how people manage to see where they’re going with their heads so far up their asses. But assuming traffic’s light, the speed limit’s high, and the highway patrol isn’t overzealous, I find driving quite enjoyable. I certainly
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.