Wednesday, March 25, 2009

I'd like a sandwich!

Tomorrow you will make me sandwich. A sandwich of my choosing. It is to be prepared to a strict guide. A guide of which I will supply, right here and now. There will be no wavering from these strict specifications. Everything will be exactly as I request, down to the smallest of detail. If these instructions are not followed exactly, there will be severe consequences. So severe that I dare not taint this page with there mention. But believe me they're bad.

The sandwich will be chicken breast with basil pesto mayo on a roll. This is nonnegotiable! You may be saying, "doesn't all pesto have basil?" Yes! It does. I'm just making sure.

Provolone! This is the only cheese to be used. You will administer 2-3 slices depending on size. These slices will sit atop the breast, like a slightly melted dream floating through the peaceful night.

In addition, when you grill my all white boneless chicken breast, I'd like a smattering of red chili flakes to be added! The flakes will serve as spicing agent that will induce thoughts of Flamenco dancing and dirty sex with Latins.

And the bun.
The bun of course will be lightly toasted to a golden brown hue, not un-similar to that of a field of wheat, blowing in the Ohioan summer wind.

Furthermore, a frugal amount of fresh, green leaf lettuce will accompany the rest, as it will sit atop the all white boneless breast and creamy provolone cheese, in such a way a sail boat might float across the Chesapeake bay in late September.

I'd like chips!

To wash it down, I would like one bottle of either Squirt or Coke. Bottles, mind you not cans. I find the aluminum to taint the beverage, much the same way a skunk may taint the fresh spring air of a gorgeous Georgian night.


Oh, ham and cheese? That's fine too.

Monday, March 9, 2009

#$^# Hope!

What the fuck. This guy's been our leader for like two months already and I ain't seen change for shit! The fuckin' sun still gets in my eyes, I still get fuckin' hangovers, some asshole shot a preacher. Fuck this.

What the fuck guy? I mean I'm still with you and all, I have hope and I got an Obama sticker on my fridge. But fuck. I Still gotta pay rent. I still can't walk around naked drinking beer in 80 degree weather all the time, as advertised.

I was under the impression that a vote for Obama meant whatever I wanted to happen would happen. Well frankly I feel a little gypped. I still haven't slept with Beyonce' (or even met her for that matter), I still haven't received my Porsche or the keys to my new condo in South Beach. Did you think this election was all a game Mr. President? It ain't.

Did you know that after all this talk about hope and change that, us, we the American people are still going to be expected to work? Seriously, I looked it up. What kind of change is that?

Also, I heard that there is currently no plan in the works to stop making The Real Housewives of Orange County or American Idol. Change, my ass!

And that's not all. It's cold as fuck and rainy outside and I heard that fixing it, ain't a part of this president's platform. Well what is? I mean we're at least still getting free sno-cone machines on every corner, right?

I'm just saying, this is bullshit. I want some hope and some change and I want it now! If free cocaine doesn't start falling from the sky while awesome free concerts are on every street corner I'm gonna start campaigning impeachment. Oh and Government funded hookers too.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Niagara Falls, NY

I once helped a man from a burning building, I was arrested cause he was a firefighter. I once tried to do a vigilante style prostitution sting, I was arrested for soliciting an undercover cop. I once told a judge that I was a spy and it was a matter of national security to let me go. Then I became a prison spy.

When life gives you lemons make lemonade. But don't make lemonade if all you have is lemons. It takes sugar and water too. There is no I in team. there is however an M and an E. I remember I once ran across a beautiful woman standing in the road. What a shame.

If three's a crowd you need a bigger apartment. When giving advice always start with, "The way you're doing it is wrong. You fuck up!" This ensures you have their attention. Life comes at you fast, take lots of crystal meth in order to keep up.

Sometimes in life you have good intentions that go wrong. Like the time I wore a birthday suit to a birthday party. Have you ever complimented a guy on his penis size at the urinal, turns out it doesn't come across as a compliment at all. For every positive action there is a negative reaction. Like the time I brought my cat to the tiger cage at the zoo so he could learn about his ancestry.

When offering to pay for a meal say, "I got this you cheap fuckers." It'll save you hundreds on future dinner invites. Always load your gun before cleaning, that way the bullets are clean, too.

There's only a small difference between buzzed and drunk, make sure you're good and drunk. Don't eat the stuff they put inside glow sticks to see if your poop is glowie. Always wear a condom during bestiality.

Don't count your chickens before they hatch is an ad slogan for poultry abortionists. On sunny days it's acceptable to go naked within a short distance of your home. Don't make funnel cake with the same funnel you change your oil with.

When trying on clothes in a department store do 100 jumping jacks in them to make sure they breathe well when sweaty. When counting things in public do it loudly so people know what you're up to.

Call six strangers everyday and tell them their spouse has been killed in a freak accident. They will be so relieved to find out they're still alive you'll probably make a friend for life.

When buying produce take the time to squeeze every piece of produce in the store, this way you'll never miss a good one. When at the doctor tell them you have ED and challenge them to see for themselves.

Friday, February 6, 2009

Ottowa, Canada

Seems like old Bob can't get a fucking break. Just got this letter, intended for me, from the blog, Things I think I think I think.

Hey guy,
Are you sure this is not a small town review of Ottawa Ontario? Cause your "ideas" sound a lot like those held by the Canadian agenda. Wait, wait, wait, are you a fucking canuck? That would really explain a lot, like why you like to wear jordash jeans and call everybody "hoser" and just generally do shit that was cool here in america like 20 years ago like some sort of mildly retarded little brother to the US who mom makes us play Monopoly with but then you choke on a hotel and step right on the middle of the board and then spill my rootbeer all over the bank! Why can't you get your own friends!?
Maybe you're some sort of Canadian Spy? But why would Canada need spies since they don't have any bombs or army or anything since they still rely on the queen and Great Britain for all that shit? Bob Hall, you have really sent my mind on a wild roller coaster ride with this one, and I really just wanna get off before I puke, or get hit in the head by a goose like Fabio did.

First of all "guy", I'm not a spy. I'm a fucking super-spy. And no, I won't tell you for who because that wouldn't make me a very good spy would it? Also, if you claim to be such a patriot, why is the word America not capitalized but Canada is, like ten times in your letter.

Although I do thank you for the Fabio thing, it was funny.

Now as far as this sun thing goes, let's end this here and now. I'm going to place a poll on this blog. Blowing up half the sun, a good idea? or a great idea? You've all heard my reasons, but for those who need reminding here you go. Oh and I'll add few new ones too.

1. It fucking deserves it.
2. Global warming.
3. It would be fun as fuck.
4. Sunglasses are really lame.
5. Why not?
6. We can.
7. It's too big.
8. Lyle Gorch is out of gas.
9. Can you imagine how loud it would be.
10. Spy reasons that I can't talk about right now.

So that's it basically. Just go ahead and vote for what you think is right. If I lose I promise to spend a whole month reviewing cities in Canada. But if I win, ThingsIthink has to write a whole blog based on what a great spy I am.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Littleton, NH (revisted)

Well it looks like I have some explaining to do. The post on Littleton, NH sure received a lot of feedback so I guess a little clarification is in order. To do this I'd like you to read this response and I'll explain afterward.

Lyle Gorch has left a new comment on your post "Littleton, NH":

Mr. Hall,

Its good to here from you. I hope you had a good christmas and shit. I did.
I went to Jimmys and we ate us some good squirrel -- it was squirrel season and shit.
You should ahve come down for squirrel season. I bagged up a shitload this year -- more than Jimmy, again!
Well, he did spend about two weeks of squirrel season in jail. He got all hgih on gas one day and shot up the school going after some squirrel family. You should of been there -- when them kids went a running I laughed so hard I dropped my gas can. I didn't even care if I spilt it and shit! You would of been laughing ... I no youre tuff casue you a spy.

Anway, I kicked Jimmy's ass this year. Big time!

So I been trying to figure out your story ever since I red it up.
I don't git it.
If my brians inside my head and I control my head -- I mean I can move that shit anytime I want to. I don't even have to think that hard to do it and shit.
So don't that meen that I cntrol my brian to?

Everytime I thkni abotu it I just go over it round and round in my head -- like a monkey trying to fuck itself with its tail and shit.

So last night during Hee-Haw I was thinkign about it and it hurt so much that I wnert to the gas.
When I woke up in the front yard My Mom was screeming again, asking what was going thru my damn head.
All I could think about was that moneky, fucking itself and shit.

So tell me Mr. Hall -- who thought of that shit -- me or my brian?

We'll Lyle, in your case both. Or neither as it we're. You see, when you drink gasoline your brain still exists on a physical level but not really on a mental level. When you woke up to your mom screaming it was cause the monkey was your mind.

I hope this clears things up.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Blow up half the sun (Pheonix, AZ)

If you blew up the whole sun it would be too dark all the time. Even though I like the nighttime the most, it would still suck if there was no day at all. But it is true that those super bright days when the sun is right in your eyes all the time are a bitch to concentrate on. So it is a bit of a sticky wicket. While I think we can all agree that something needs to be done about it, it's understandably debatable as to what.

I propose blowing up half the sun. There area few reasons for this. Number one- the sun fucking deserves it. I mean let's be honest with ourselves, that fucker sits up there like some ancient god and just causes trouble for the rest of us. Sunburns, sunstroke, Sun-Chips. I mean what the fuck? Also, ever had something get ruined cause you left it in the sun for too long? Fuck it.

Number two- Global warming. We could just nip that shit in the bud right then and there. Sorry Al Gore you'll have to find a new hobby.

Number three- It would be fun as fuck. According to science people, the sun is like one big continuous explosion. What would be more fun than blowing up an explosion? It's like bacon wrapped bacon. genius.

Now some people say only blow up a little bit of it. I say no. It's gonna be real expensive so let's get a good chunk of right off the bat. I think 50-percent is a good place to start. It's a lot but not a majority. We could always do more later.

So that's it. I mean the sun has been causing a lot of problems for a lot of years I say it's time we got out out of the shade and did something about it? Who's with me?

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Beverly Hills, CA

Another example of the mind being a tricky little fucker.

Watch the whole video before reading on.

This poor fellow must have a particularly tricky mind. He probably woke up and wanted to go plant some vegetables in is garden or maybe even just drink some gasoline and play shuffleboard all day with his buds. But his mind had other ideas and you know what that means.

His mind was like, "no lets instead tape a bunch of explosives on the end of a hammer." It had to have been his minds idea, I mean who else could think of that, him? No way. It also looks like this may have been an example of when minds get together and get a whole bunch of people to do things they don't want to. It's super dangerous when people put their minds together. That's when things get really out of hand.