Over The Pylon

Some of you may remember this piece, where new Ball State recruit Matthew Page, he of gargantuan offensive line fame in East Chicago, was named to the US Junior National Team. Page, he of intimidating looks, and ripe target for satire is a true patriot, countryman, and representer of freedom, liberty, and justice, hates all those who oppose the idea that all men are created equal. He hates those that oppose that every person is entitled to their God given right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. He hates vegetables. But today….

What up world! This your boy, Matthew Page. My friends call me MP and my enemies call me nothin’… cause they dead.

It dawned on me today while I was perusing some old science texts that frankly, this metric system is some bullshit. Liters? Centimeters? Kilograms? What the hell is wrong with ounces, pounds, gallons, and inches? Those are some American measurements baby, and ain’t nothin’ wrong with that. 4th and centimeters? Doubtful. It’s like bringing hummus to a 4th of July barbecue. That shit has no place at my table.

I know you crazy Europeans walk around with your tight pants and your striped shirts thinking you’re better than the rest of us. Drinking your cappuccinos and watching soccer. So let me break this down for you all metric-like. I’m about to tap a 3-liter bottle of whoop ass on the next person who tries to shove this metric shit down my throat.

Meter stick? Think again, bitches. That’s a yard stick. And don’t make me show you into what orifices of yours I can jam it when I’m truly upset. I know, I know, John Wilkins went to all this trouble to invent a system of metric measurement. Frankly, I couldn’t give a shit less. Wilkins would be a dead man if he hadn’t already kicked over in 1672. Kidney stones! What an appropriate bitchassed death for such a man reeking of bitchassedness.

So you crazy Europeans, keep that metric system bullshit on your side of the ocean, otherwise big MP gonna go batshit on your metric loving asses. Because frankly, there’s 143,000 grams of pissed off dude bout to run wild. After I’m through with the MAC, your candy metric asses are next.

MP… USA… WE OUT! DEEP FRIED!

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Some of you may remember this piece, where new Ball State recruit Matthew Page, he of gargantuan offensive line fame in East Chicago, was named to the US Junior National Team. Page, he of intimidating looks, and ripe target for satire is a true patriot, countryman, and representer of freedom, liberty, and justice, hates all those who oppose the idea that all men are created equal. He hates those that oppose that every person is entitled to their God given right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. He hates vegetables. But today….

What up world! This your boy, Matthew Page. My friends call me MP and my enemies call me nothin’… cause they dead.

There’s lots of talk going on in the capital about bailouts. Every time I turn on the news it’s bailout this, bailout that. Whatever happened to financial responsibility, America? Where the fuck is yo fiduciary diligence? Ben Bernanke? Blow me. If Thomsas Jefferson were alive, he’d beat you with his cane.

You want to talk bailouts? Bailout the MAC from the enormous amount of pain and colossal ass whoopings I’m about to put on people. Them shits is right for a bailout. Ford? GM? Bank of America? Hardly. Toledo, BG, and Miami about to get freight trained. And there ain’t no flashing lights or traffic bars. Just a large man wearing Cardinal red about to knock the piss out of you. Believe that.

TARP funds? Shiiiiiiit. The only tarp I want to see is the tarp across the carcasses of the defense. Because I’m about blow up. You can centralize the banking industry, boy, but I’m ’bout to centralize some pain. All over the MidAmerican conference.

Now, listen here, Mr. Commerce Secretary, this is real simple like. You take those CEOs, those auto honchos and the bigwigs at Wall Street and you put me in a room with ’em for about 10 minutes, and we’ll sort this out. Those balance sheets gonna match up like my fist and an NIU defensive tackle.

I mean, frankly, it’s distracting. How am I supposed to know the blocking schemes for Coach Stan’s offense if I’ve got to keep track of Senate Finance Committee meetings and rereading documents for the federal reserve. I can’t do it all. Now fix this pigfuck before I get really angry.

You got 4 years Geithner. And then I’m coming to DC for some answers.

MP… USA… WE OUT! MAYONNAISE!

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Some of you may remember this piece, where new Ball State recruit Matthew Page, he of gargantuan offensive line fame in East Chicago, was named to the US Junior National Team. Page, he of intimidating looks, and ripe target for satire is a true patriot, countryman, and representer of freedom, liberty, and justice, hates all those who oppose the idea that all men are created equal. He hates those that oppose that every person is entitled to their God given right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. He hates vegetables. But today….

Matthew Page Hates Somali Pirates

What up world! This your boy, Matthew Page. My friends call me MP and my enemies call me nothin’… cause they dead.I think it’s a damn shame that people can’t even cruise the world’s oceans without some ignorant pirates messin’ shit up for all of us. That shit isn’t even remotely copacetic. Driving around in your little rowboat, climbin’ on ships, makin’ a mess of the international aquatic laws of justice. Didn’t your pirate mothers teach you all any better?

I mean really… who the fuck carries a rocket launcher around? Overkill, much? No one takes a machete and trims their pubes. Life, like terrorism, is about finesse, gents. And more importantly, what do you do with it when you aren’t being a raging bowl of dicks to pretty much the rest of the entire universe. That shit’s not cool, man.

I know one thing. Those pirates on the news sure didn’t look like any pirates I’ve ever seen. Big ass rifles, nappy ass clothes, and a real shit attitude. If those guys were on the Disney ride I went on, I would have jumped out the boat and beat their bitch asses with their bandanas. Book that. And I was only 7. Granted, I was 6-5 and weighed 327, but still…

I hate those Somali pirates, man. They’re trying to hijack cruise ships, now. Cruise ships!!! Do you know what a bad thing that is? One minute you’re chillin’ on the deck, looking at a big pair of MILF bags, eyeing the buffet or the towel swan placed on your pillow, and the next thing you know some raging asshole drops a turd in your ocean party punch bowl. Have some respect for the ice sculptures you insensitive bitches.

And what’s worse is you give these douches air time. These dickbags are on the news demanding this, saying that. 4 Navy Seals, four loud pops, and now you ain’t sayin’ shit. USA… we shoot like we mean it.

So while the SEALs keep all of you pirates busy, know this. 4 years goes by quick. And it won’t be long till Matthew Page brings the pain train straight to Somalia. Express, bitches.

MP… USA… WE OUT! BACON!!!

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Some of you may remember this piece, where new Ball State recruit Matthew Page, he of gargantuan offensive line fame in East Chicago, was named to the US Junior National Team. Page, he of intimidating looks, and ripe target for satire is a true patriot, countryman, and representer of freedom, liberty, and justice, hates all those who oppose the idea that all men are created equal. He hates those that oppose that every person is entitled to their God given right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. He hates vegetables. But today….

What up world! This your boy, Matthew Page. My friends call me MP and my enemies call me nothin’… cause they dead.

Well, well, well. Looky what we have here. Osama bin Laden done come out his cave. First off all, you need a shower. That pubic beard of yours is RIPE, son. Seriously, bro. Like all jokes aside, it smells like a camel shit in your little hat there. Wooo… that is foul.

Oh and nice, watch, hombre. Is that a Casio? Sweet. I won’t bag on you too much for wearing it on the inside of your wrist, though. I had a buddy that did that in high school. It always reminded him he was late for ballet practice. You know… cause I think he might have… oh hell… nevermind.

And the camo? Come on man. That shit ain’t stylin’. Shit was hot when The U rocked it back in the 80s, but Luther Campbell and a white stretch limo of Cuban hos ain’t anywhere close to that bombed out shithole you’ve been living in. And speaking of, why isn’t the camo all grey like a rock? Ain’t no trees or bushes in a cave, dumbshit.

This is the US, man. We talkin’ bout life. We talkin’ bout liberty. We talkin’ bout the 99 cent value menu at McDonalds, man. You know what you could have fucked up by all that bullshit you pulled? You take away my dollar menu and you are a fuckin’ dead man. No questions asked.

Seriously, though, man. I’m sure you think life is easy over in them caves. Rollin’ around living the high life… stonin’ bitches, blowin’ up villages, raining down destruction on the Afghans, the Pakistans, the whateverstans. All the while releasing your little videos to the internet. Weak, dogg. First off all, get a better camera. As grainy and poorly lit as it was, I expected to see R. Kelly straight drenching some ho in the corner. Second, videos are so 1995, man. Drop that shit on the YouTubes!!!

Anyway, Osama, I want you to look into that picture above and realize in 4 years when I’m done pancaking my way through the MAC, I’m coming for you boy. Shit’s about to get real, son!

MP… USA… WE OUT! GRAVY!

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