Best Fucking Dessert Ever!!!

If I could get my dentist to pull all of my teeth and put little bitty pieces of this dessert in my mouth where teeth would be so I could chew on this delight all day long, I would pay him $1million. Words will not do this super-calorie contraption justice. They call it a White Chocolate Turtle Brownie (or something like that). Imagine a hot sugar cookie with white chocolate chips in it, topped with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, and drizzled in caramel. It's making me hungry just thinking about it.

The server said we couldn't have the recipe because some old lady comes in everyday and makes them. He doesn't even know how it's made. I call him a liar. Anyone who works in that restaurant is out of their flipping minds if they can't see the goldmine right under their noses. All they need to do is capture the info. How hard is it to torture an old woman anyway? I could break her will (and maybe a hip) in seconds....not that I'd do that for a dessert recipe. Or would I?

If you're ever in the neighborhood of South St. Louis City, visit Sydney Street Cafe. The food and service are phenominal, but this dessert takes the whole experience over the top.

Here are some ways I'd describe it: Chocolate A-Bomb (even though there's no true chocolate in it, but the taste hits like Hiroshima). The Super Crunch (well.... it's not really crunchy, but with the speed at which I chew when it's in my mouth to squish out every last bit of flavor, I've gotta imagine something sounds like it's crunching).

If I could bathe in it, I'd use a spoon as a loofa. If I could ride it, I'd take the scenic route everywhere and never roll a stop again. If I could work for it, I'd joyfully wake up at 5am every morning and put in 20 hour days (hey, a man's gotta get his beauty rest). If I could reproduce with it, I'd keep it barefoot and pregnant because I'd always be balls deep in its caramelly icecream mounds.

The joy I have found in this dessert is like nothing else in my life. Not the joy of nailing a trifecta with three long shots. Not the love of my fiance. Not the sweet release of a 17-beer piss. Nothing. This is the best fucking dessert ever. And I urge you all to forget you've ever heard about it. I want it all for myself.


New Business Idea - #1

From time to time (everyday), I sit around and think of business ideas that will take me out of my 9-to-5 regimen. Actually, we do it as a group. And we come up with a lot of ideas that will probably never amount to anything. Why? Because we can't quit our jobs to start new jobs... or something like that. So what I'm going to do is start posting these ideas. If you want to steal it, go ahead. But when I come asking for my cut, don't be surprised if I have a baseball bat in my hand.

So here it is. Custom, one-of-a-kind t-shirts. What? People already do that? Not like this. Here's how it works. Basically, you pay me to think of something to put on your chest (and no, I'm not thinking about what you're thinking about... unless you're really busty. Then that's exactly what I'm thinking about.).

For as little as $40, I'll create a shirt that only you and I will understand the meaning of, that is, unless you want to let everyone else in on the inside joke. It's up to you. My canvas is cotton. And my medium is iron-on. The rest is instinct, attitude, obscurity and irreverence. If you'd like me to start work on your one-of-a-kind special-tee, just drop me an email: xxxxxxxxk@gmail.com. We can work out the payment and delivery from there.

So how did I get involved in this, you ask? It's quite simple. I was recently in an art show where real artists painted on skateboard decks. I'm not a real artist. I'm in marketing (You do the math.). So I created a white on white word enigma. ITCANTBWONG was stenciled in block letters, white gloss over flat. And so the t-shirt idea was born.

I put a $2,500.00 price tag on the deck. It didn't sell. So now when I open my custom t-shirt shop, I'm going to hang it over the door. And if you ever want to buy it, I'll tell you it's not for sale.

So here it is, the first installment of my break the 9-to-5 routine and do something different. Now buy a shirt from me already..........



Here's a trick for you. It'll drive everyone in the office nuts... actually, it'll drive the people who aren't laughing with you nuts.

Hit the "speaker" button on your phone. Then press "page." Don't touch anything. It's like having a hot mic. The screeching will fill the office air. And the yelling STOP THAT! will quickly follow.

I did this again today. It's Friday. It's something I normally do in response to stupidity. But on this day, I was forbidden to ever do it again. So in my haste, I encourage everyone to follow in these footsteps. Let's see if we can't blow the whole corporate phone system to hell.

Because I got yelled at, I'm going to take a break for a while. But when I return. When I bring the act back. The feedback on the phone system will make heads spin. And I can't wait to do it again.

What's the worst thing that happens? I might be asking one of you for a job.

Happy Screeching.



Some call it the Shocker. I call it a game.

Many of you know of the term, the shocker. "Two in the pink, One in the stink."

Well... a couple months ago, we started trying to come up with various ways of saying the same thing. Ok, so it was a long car ride, but we were laughing our arses off. Then we did the same thing over drinks at a going away party. Some were good. Some were bad. All were f-ing hilarious... if you're like me and have the sense of humor of a 5th grader (Yes, I'm 30.). So here are a couple that stuck (pun intended). Be careful, though. Once you start, it will become an obsession.

My goal is a good list of about 500. And so it begins:

Two in the Pink. One in the Stink.
2 in the goo. 1 in the poo.
Two in the clam. 1 in the ham.
Two in the slit. One in the shit.
2 in the cum. 1 in the bum.