porkjerky plog
The Null Blog
Oh Sweet Lord Almighty Fuck. I did it, I finally found a blog better than the one post wonders who have had the glorious distinction of winning a Porkjerky.com Intermittently Bestowed Shitty Blog Award.
What could be more shittier than a blog that someone took the time to set up, make only one post and be done with? Take the amount of commitment that fuck put into their worthless blog and divide their lack of effort in half…
…And you get the Enviro MBA Blog barely created by some douchefuck who got bored with it before they even had one post up. That’s right I found a blog so exciting to the owner wasn’t even even inspired to add any posts.
De-fucking-licious. I’m actually unable to complain about how long its been shitty, because without a single post, there’s no way to discern how long its been online.
46 characters. That’s including spaces. There are 46 characters that separate this blog form a completely blank blog. Since there’s no post, those 46 characters that the blogger who runs this blog slaved over are the name of the blog, a header and the location the state and country the user lives in.
Maybe, and this is just pure speculation base on 10 of those characters (‘Enviro MBA’) the blogger decided to help reduce the carbon footprint of their blog by not harming the environment typing. Or maybe they used their MBA to deduce that the most efficient use of their readers time was to not waste it time by positing trite bullshit for them to read.
Whatever the story behind it, congratulations, Enviro MBA Blog, your shitty blog is Porkjerky.com Shitty Blog Award worthy.
Humanity’s Greatest Accomplishment
Ok class, we’ve done it for my lifetime and we’ve done it for humanity on a worldwide level for one day. Now we are doing it for the entire population ever. We are answering the ultimate question raised by crapometry:
How much shit have humans produced in our existence?
I mean, it’s got to be a lot of poop. Exactly how much, though? Has the entire mass of the Earth passed through our collective asses? What states could we cover in shit? How does all that crap compare to various elements of our galaxy?
I’m glad you asked. First, let’s pull some numbers out of our asses to feed our formula. After an exhaustive internet search that lasted almost 15 seconds I found Population Reference Bureau which I gave me 10,645,636,800 people who had ever been born.
Since we are including all the Chinese baby girls thrown in the Yangtze, billions of slaves, genocide victims, kids drowned in a bathtub by their loving mothers who wanted them to be certain to be with Jesus, everyone born before penicillin and indoor plumbing and all people still living; I think the average age of a human is 36. Probably low, but when dealing with this much potential shit, its better to be safe than sorry.
Firing up the handy dandy poop calculator, we get that in 36 years an average person will crap 1.66 miles, 805 gallons and 2.98 tons of shit. Who said life was ultimately purposeless and you’d never leave a mark on this earth? Granted it’s a big brown mark and basically everyone in the world will do it, but still, let that be your purpose and achievement in an otherwise empty life.
Good for you.
By the magical, mystical, powers of multiplication, that means in the history of the world humans have produced 17,671,757,088 miles of shit, 8,569,737,624,000 gallons of crap and 31,723,997,664 tons of feces. Stacked on top of another that poo wall would rise up 3,312,000,000 miles and have an area of 418,365 square miles. Onto the comparisions.
That’s enough poop to cover Texas, Montana and Delaware with enough turds left over to bury Washington D.C. eleven shits deep.
If we could somehow form that shit into one continuous poop rope and let it fly off the back of the planet as we orbited the sun, we would have over 3 years worth of rope.
If we used all that shit as bricks we could make a 2 lane cobbleturd road from the earth to the sun.
Lastly, if you added up all the time and energy I spent converting, calculating, researching and figuring this shit out about shit and wondered why I don’t use my abilities and genius in a more productive way for society, well, that would make it all worth while for me.
Little Dicks, Big Business
Call me selfish. Definitely a skeptic. Even content with myself, but it seems to me that a little dick would still work fine from this end.
A big dick is nice and all, but I’m not going out of my to get one when the tiny pecker I have serves its purpose to me perfectly. Hypothetically speaking that is. Not to get all biblical on you, but in the good book there’s something very profound that is quite applicable in this situation. I believe it was Jesus Christ who said; ‘What’s in it for me?’
Are 4 more inches in length going to make sex better for me? Are a couple more centimeters in girth going to make my mind blown every time I jerk off alone on another Saturday night?
I don’t think so. Big or little, they all works just the same from this end.
I’ve compared some documentaries starring Ron Jeremy and John Holmes to some with regular, maybe even below average dudes banging their old ladies (how pretentious is that? ‘Hey honey, let’s give back to the world. This Friday we are fucking on camera and posting it to the web because god damn it, that’s what the world is clamoring for.’ God bless the internet.). It doesn’t seem that climax intensity and satisfaction are in any way correlated to the size of the cock that brings you to it. The porn studs seemed just as happy as the dude plowing their wives.
It just boggles my mind that cock snake oil is such a booming business. Email spam, fake blog postings, fake blogs and the fuckers are even junking up television with 30 second ads and 30 minute infomercials for cock pills.
Maybe I’m missing something. Maybe I don’t have the proper perspective. Maybe I have been spoiled by my disgustingly monstrous, almost unusably huge dick. Or maybe, until I walk a mile in their tiny cocks I just won’t understand.
I just don’t know. It seems to me, a little dick would still work fine from this end, but no prick inflation is a billion dollar a year industry.
CNN, The Reverse SETI
CNN is a smoke alarm with dying batteries. Except less useful, more annoying and neither saves your life nor adds anything meaningful to it.
Remember the last time the batteries in your remote went out? You did what any normal person would do, you lived with it for the first couple of days by making sure you aimed the damn thing perfectly at the cable box and when that no longer worked you got off your ass and got new batteries. You put the new batteries in, put the old batteries in the smoke alarm and threw away the old batteries in the smoke alarm.
Then though, about 2 weeks later you heard this chirping. Just this annoying high-pitched beacon telling you the smoke alarm was slowly dying. Every 45 seconds. Chirp. Chirp. Chirp. Constantly. Chirp. Chirp. Chirp. High pitched and annoying.
That is CNN.
Its like a reverse SETI. Instead of searching for intelligent life, it spits out signals in all directions and manners hoping someone will validate their existence and tell them that they are intelligent life.
The television screen alone is a desperate cry for attention. You have the telepromptee talking along with a corresponding graphic or video clip. There’s a news crawl scrolling the bottom of the screen along with a stock ticker. The right column will have upcoming stories. Then if there’s breaking news that doesn’t merit mention in one of the 4 other areas they put a flashing scroll at the top of the fucking screen . Periodically, on top of the bottom scroll there will be an ad for an upcoming CNN show letting you know about future annoying beacons to come on the station.
Their strategy is that if they threw enough shit in enough directions they might get lucky and people will pay attention to them. Shot gun, scattershot news: It may not be good but its everywhere.
The fucking Cable News Network has even expanded their shit throwing to non Cable Networks as well. They are all over the internet with their blogs. I counted at least 29 unique ones set up on their site.
I wondered how much shit those CNN blogs were responsible for spewing onto the net. Since July 1, 2009 there have been over 3,000 unique posts on that fucking site. That’s more than 100 a day.
Then just, because my balls didn’t feel thoroughly stomped, I wondered what would happen if I further searched those 3,000 posts to see how many contained the term ‘Michael Jackson’. Since July 1, 2009 until now over half of the 3,000 blog posts CNN has crapped onto the web have referenced Michael Jackson.
Chirp.
Chirp.
Chirp.
Chirp.
Chirp.
Please quit encouraging them by paying attention.
Random Acts Of Fuck You
Here’s a tip from me to you, if you don’t want to have to explain to your mini-van full of kids what a ‘stupid fucking piece of shit dumb cunt fat whore’ is, don’t yield your right of way to me.
This fucking happens to me at least twice a week. I will be waiting to make a left turn and some stupid fucking piece of shit dumb cunt fat whore has the right of way and refuses to take it. Guess what supermom? I’m not passing in front of your shitty-driving, distracted ass.
Don’t wave me on. Bitch, I will cut you.
Take your fucking right of way.
Or when I try to walk across a 4 lane road, make it into the center turning lane and have a nursing home escapee stop for me in the nearest lane wanting me to cross in front of him never minding the far lane which still has traffic racing in it.
Guess what gramps, I’m not thanking you for your politeness in trying to get me killed. Actually, I will be telling you that your niceness is endangering lives and describing sexual acts you should perform on yourself and/or the old hag sitting in the passenger seat.
Misplaced, unsolicited, unneccesary courtesy pisses me off.
There is nothing I appreciate less than having to be appreciative. Unless I specifically ask you to do something as a favor for me, whatever unsolicited nicety you do for me is not a favor. And more often than not, I resent feeling like I have to feign appreciation for it.
Masters Of Shitty Blog Administration
You got assholes in with my douchebags.
No, you got douchebags in with my assholes.
Its bad and then worse, all at the same time. Like puking all over yourself. Like nails on a chalkboard while you are chewing on tinfoil. Like the doctor accidentally crushing your nuts during your rectal exam. Like dating a fat girl who’s an obnoxious cunt. Like being forced to watch WNBA when its nice outside. Like having someone cut off your cock and putting your eye out with it. Like wrecking your new car into your house.
Like a turd cake with shit frosting.
Bad and then worse, all at the same time.
Upon loading it in my browser, I immediately bestowed upon The League Of MBA Bloggers a Porkjerky.com Irregularly Given Shitty Blog Award. Agonizing story short: It’s a blog that links to blogs of MBA’s, each of which are independently worthy of their own shitty blog award.
Not in my worst wet nightmare did I imagine something like this exists. I just wanted to find some shitty MBA piece of fuck with a shitty blog. That’s all I wanted. Point my finger at what a MBA douchebag the MBA douchebag was, say how shitty that shitty blog was, wish death upon both of them and call it a post.
Is that too much for a boy to want?
I found a couple blogspot blogs from worthless MBA wannabes. Posts that were run through a thesaurus program to replace every word with one that had 3 more syllables in it. Stock photography pictures of buildings, blue skies, clocks telescopes and ethnically diverse people in suits working together all over the place. Postive-thinker pablum dripping from every sentence.
Oh jesus, I felt so dirty. But I just kept searching and somehow found The League Of MBA Bloggers which acted (note the tense) as a directory for all that insipid triteness. And not even a useful directory, just a random listing of links to blogs. No descriptions, just the school they went to, the name of the blog and the year.
Worst yet, it hasn’t been updated in like 2 years. Which means its an abandoned blog of abandoned blogs. Half the links lead to dead blogs, blogs that haven’t been updated in a year and a half themselves.
Again, The League Of MBA Bloggers please accept this Porkjerky.com Shitty Blog Award as my way of saying ‘Congratulations and fucking kill yourselves. The lot of you.‘.
The Case Of The Phantom Poo
Here’s a mystery for you Nancy Drew. Where’s my shit?
I swear to your favorite deity that I spent a good 90 seconds slowly coaxing a turd from my ass. I swear. Got the soiled toilet paper to prove it. I shit. I honestly shit.
Right?
Please tell me I didn’t hallucinate a crap. I mean I just don’t know if I could take that. How fucked in the head do you have to be to have a psychological episode where you convince yourself you pooped, but didn’t?
That truly is crazy, and not the good or clichéd kind. I mean, thinking you’re the king of the world or giving yourself a lobotomy to free the evil spirits that are living in your skull or believing you are Jesus Christ reincarnated or setting yourself on fire to kill all the spiders eating your body or thinking your neighbor’s dog is commanding you to kill for him: Now those are good delusions. I understand those—you want to be someone more important than you are or are trying to save yourself from imagined danger. Perfectly acceptable psychological episodes. But believing you crapped when you didn’t? That’s just the sad kind of crazy.
There’s no gain there. That’s neither a delusion of grandeur nor a manifestation of fear. Its really just a boring psychological episode. Taking a phantom crap is just crazy. What’s in that delusion for me?
Nothing. So, at this point I needed to find that turd for my own sanity.
I know I spent a good minute and a half with something coming out of my ass. Then I grabbed my camera, turn around and nothing. At first I thought this was 9/11 all over again–some big United Nations/Jew/National Arbor Day Foundation conspiracy to bring down America by dealing a blow to our collective psyches. Then I took a deep breath and stuck my head in my toilet, within drinking distance of the water, and found my turd and by proxy, my sanity.
It was like the perfect storm of shit. This turd was so long and so buoyant it got trapped in the J-bend of my crapper. As we all remember from 6th grade plumbing class, the J bend is a bend in the toilet design that allows it to flush and keeps vapors from backing up into your house. Your shit and piss don’t go immediately down your toilet—they go up a few inches then down—like an upside down j. Turn your monitor upside down and look at all the j’s on this page to see what I mean.
My crap was so long it went all the way from my ass to the bottom of my toilet, then it was redirect up the J-bend of my toilet. When it finally came all the way out my ass, it was so buoyant it just followed the rest of the shit which floated to the top of that J-bend. Because the J-bend is basically a tube, my shit was floating vertically, which meant the bottom of my turd was visible in the very bottom of my toilet, which meant I am not crazy.
Of course I am still not convinced the Jews, National Arbor Day people and United Nations didn’t have a hand in this somehow.
Bumpercrop of Failure
Where’s Willie Nelson when you need him?
Throw me a concert, sing me a song, pay your taxes so I can get FEMA to declare my toilet bowl farmland a disaster area and get one of those sweet New Orleans type nonpaybackable loans.
What I am trying to say is that my dream of growing a plant in my toilet has suffered a temporary setback. I had to flush that bowl full of decomposing shit. Long story short, it smelled a few dozen sulfur covered hobos worse than that picture looks and nothing was happening to my seeds.
And I was like Terry Schiavo’s parents with those seeds too—holding onto false hope, seeing evidence of life that wasn’t there and talking myself into what I wanted to be true. Yesterday an eyelash fell on one of the seeds and I convinced myself that it was a crack where a sprout was going to shoot out.
A long pained exhale later and my hopes, like that eyelash, blew away. I then realized that it probably wasn’t going to happen.
Now I know what it is like to have to put down your own child.
The Immaculate Defecation
What would you do if you pooped a turd divine?
A religious looking crap, Is that a sign?
To me it would be scary
To shit the Virgin Mary
Of course, in a heartbeat, I’d sell it online.
Toilet Garden, Day 3
8:03 a.m. Good morning world. What’s that? Oh yes, the sweet smell of genius and success coming from my bathroom. My Shitty Garden is in bloom. Good morning little seeds. Take your time, I’m in no hurry. Sprout when you feel like it.
10:47 a.m. Initial exuberance from being such a fucking genius and growing vegetables on my shit in my toilet is starting to wane. What started out as a sure fire way to get chicks is turning into a big pile of fermenting shit. No one could have foreseen this unlikely turn of events. There was no way to predict that keeping an unflushed bowl of crap for 3 days would be so gross.
1:18 p.m. No, no damn it. I will not give up. I must continue. There’s no ‘i’ in failure. Must keep thinking of the glory, money and pussy that awaits me when my peas finally sprout. These thoughts keep me going and are the only thing that keeps the stench at bay.
3:12 p.m. Forgot about my Toilet Garden, went to jerk off into the crapper as usual and let’s just say a decomposing pot of raw sewage is kryptonite to boners.
4:33 p.m. Urge to flush increasing. The initial countermeasure of simply closing the lid on the bowl worked for a while, but now seems like my turd; fruitless. Maybe Saran Wrap will help.
7:52 p.m. Who the fuck do you think you are? 72 fucking hours and you don’t have the decency to sprout even a little. Being sown in my shit is a privilege not a right. Where do you fucking seeds get off? I have a good mind to flush you little bastards just to show you who’s boss. I never wanted to do this god damn thing in the first place. I hate peas. Fuck you .
9:44 p.m. I fear this may be my last post on this plog. Either the decomposing shit is causing me to hallucinate or my bowl full of shit has actually gained sentience. In either case I will soon be enslaved to do its bidding.
