Dogfood Ridin’ Shotgun

Our latest short “Dogfood Ridin’ Shotgun” will be featured at Cap City Comedy Club during the Austin Funniest Filmmaker Finals. Come out on Monday, August the 17th and support your local retard. And look for the video right here next week whether we win or lose.

Maybe you ain't heard this, but this bag of puppy chow is the shiz-nit.

http://www.austinfilmfestival.com/new/funniest_filmmaker_in_austin

A poem by me, Dennis Calmonte

Hello, my name is Dennis and I am a sophomore at McColley High School and I draw pictures of shoes as a hobby and collect packets of various condiments from fast food places as a second hobby, and I like anime a lot too, but not too much like an obsession like some people say (Harley).  I am a bagboy and work at Randalls and here is a poem I wrote about a lady whose groceries I bagged today who was pretty and smelled good and I was too shy to tell her that I loved her.

Lady with fruits

I want to squeeze all the fruits you just bought like I want to

squeeze your own woman fruits that are on your chest and are big.

Lady, I do not know your name but you smell like a beauty factory that

makes flowers and tits.

Yes, I will carry all your purchases to your car for you and then once

I have put them in your trunk I would like to put something else into your trunk, but not another bag of groceries, hint hint…

When you wrote a check for you groceries I saw that you had Bugs Bunny on them and I thought that was funny because I have seen him on my sister’s shirt except on that shirt he is a hip-hop Bugs, but on your check he was just regular and I like your ass.

Lady with fruits I love you and hope you will come back, cause then I will tell you how I feel when I see you and you will love me and rub my balls, maybe.

–Dennis Calmonte

I hate to admit it…but I’m a nice guy.

Okay.  Here it is:  I’m tired of acting like I’m some kind of  jerk just to impress my friends.

Whew.  There.  I said it.  Feels better.  I’m really an exceptionally nice guy!  It feels good to get that out.  Seriously.  I’ve always felt like I had to have ‘an edge’ just so you’d like me.   I’m sorry to disappoint everyone.   I’m actually just a dull, cardigan-wearing dude, round and soft and full of happy goo…and this goo is sickly sweet with sincerity and I’m pretty sure there are rainbows in there,  too.

When I was in high school I pretended to like punk rock music, and when were were all moshing about the club and jabbing spiked arm bands into our throats, I was….just..somewhere else.  Detached.  In my mind I would be petting a deer in a shaded thicket, kissing it softly on the mouth, pleasuring myself at the same time.   Maybe there would be a picnic all laid out for us, and I’d have made deviled eggs or prosciutto wrapped clumps of goat cheese.  Whatever.  The point is I completely contradicted whatever action I was engaged in at the time.  I was living a lie, and it was getting harder and harder to cover up this dark secret.  Also, I  hated combat boots and leather.  And songs about rebellion and ‘parents’.  I shot my parents.  Enough, already.

In college I pledged and luckily was accepted into the exclusive brotherhood of Psi Beta Lappa Alpa Bama Jamma.  I was the one entrusted to drive over the border and keep us stocked up on Rohypnol, you know, the ‘date-rape drug’.  I know I know–doesn’t sound like an activity any ‘nice guy’ would be engaged in, but I had to keep a sleazy profile, and I was reading a lot of Bret Easton Ellis at the time.  At keggers I would wear sunglasses and act aloof and menacing and stand in the corner and sing.  Blind Melon was my jam.  Chicks swooned.  I’d take em back to my dorm room and while the drug was doing its thing, I would do mine—namely perform my ‘penis puppet show’ with its ‘Gallagher-style’ ending.  Wrote the whole thing myself.  Hilarious! What bad guy performs puppet shows?  Exactly.  I was just way too nice.  And to film the show and send the video to their parents?  Downright thoughtful.

I really hope no one holds any of this against me..even though I held plenty of you against me…against your will.  I guess that’s what got me in the clink.  But the ironic thing was, it was always just a guise to gain your affection…cruel to be kind, in the right measure, you know? I’d like to think as I get older, I’m more comfortable with my inherent niceness, but nope.  I’ll get out of prison soon, and part of my rehabilitation will be finally admitting to all those people I filled with joy that….I’m….sorry.  I couldn’t help it.  I’ll try to do worse next time.

So that’s all for now, I guess.  Gotta go slit this chi-mo’s muthf****n  fish throat.  That’ll teach him to dummy up next time they go askin what I got up my keister.  Peace.

Our Hidden Kentucky Mountaintop Sex Mansion

One of our many whorse

I’d like to be the first to welcome myself back to Big Ol’ Tire Fire. The courts have allowed that I can change my vote from the last tribal council, and so I’m back on the island. They also ruled that we can’t vote drunk anymore, but that ruling only applies to BOTF tribal councils, not general elections.

Craig sawing on the titty table

Whilst I know well that our fans hath missed me and mine precious old-fashioned pronouns terribly, you readers should know well that I have used my time to wreak a great fortune on the human race-the Big Ol’ Tire Fire Hidden Kentucky Mountaintop Sex Mansion.

The new BOTF-HKMSM is nearly complete, and what a project it has been! I only have time to write this now as Ernest Borgnine and his crew are oiling the floors.

Secret blend of seven herbs and oils = bitchin' slippin'

It sure is lovely up here in the hidden mountaintops of Kentucky! The dildo trees are in bloom, and the pussy willows are singing! I can hear lube gurgling from a spring on the mountain below, and it excites me!

Jason pilots the super shuttle

Wouldn’t you like to come visit? Wouldn’t you like to come through the foyer fellatio, stretch out on the sodomy sofa, and put your feet up on the handmade cunnilingus coffee table? Maybe read a sex manual you pulled from the the bukakke bookcase? Or do it with me?

Like Elvis sang: "There's one less/ smart-alecky landscaper/ in old Kentucky tonight"

Well, you can’t (unless you’re super hot and willing to ride the Super Shuttle blindfolded). This place is top secret. We’ve already murdered Sean Penn (the landscaper) to keep this place a secret. Ernest Borgnine and his crew are next. So fuck the fuck off.

NYC had this weird new brand of juice that we just had to try..

Hello everyone.  Jimmy here!  I am so excited to share with you an experience my boys and I had while doing it up in NYC last week.  Can you say unchaperoned?  We could.  5 hours to kill between sight reading and the solo and ensemble competition?  Kablam!  Check us out here, acting so crazy at the base of the Statue of Liberty!   Lady Liberty, man.  Sean thought it would be a great idea to bring this weird juice we found with us on the ferry, and kind of have a little toast to us dudes being away from home for the first time.  It’s this crazy brand of juice you can only get in New York City.  Look at it!  It’s so weird, this juice.  Look at the label.  Have you ever seen a juice label like that?  I hadn’t.  Sean hadn’t.  Nate certainly hadn’t.  None of us had.  That’s why we got that juice.  Cause it was weird.

We thought a matching color pallete and velcro tennis shoes was wild but this juice was where it was at!  Sadly, there was no way we were gonna be able to get it home in our suitcases.  There was just no room.  So we just had to finish it.  Thankfully we have this photograph to prove that the juice really did exist. The lady that took the picture was from somewheres not America.  She said she sees that kind of juice all the time in a store near her house in a place called Bonkers.  Bonkers!  Can you believe that?  This place is capital ‘C’ Crazy!  Sean had an asthma attack on the ferry on the way back to Manhattan.  It was pretty cool.  Also, I saw a man on the street kiss another man..with tongue..and then he pulled a little puppy out of his underwear and fed it some lettuce from a Jumbo Jack!  Man.  But still I think the juice takes the cake.  This place never sleeps!  We have a curfew, though.  South Mecklenburg High School Band RULEZ!! …..specifically the baritones!!