Afro-Squad Online Men's Magazine

I had to buy these pants when I saw they put the “Satisfaction Guarantee” on the crotch. 

I bought them and still haven’t gotten laid.  I may return them under the guarantee. 

We just like this picture. 

For so many reasons, Michael Jackson must have been spinning in his million-dollar mausoleum last week.

His kids, Prince and Paris, whom he draped in bee keeper’s hats and masks to keep them out of the public, took center stage and accepted his Lifetime Achievement Award at the 52nd annual Grammy Awards.  Then the Elephant Man’s bones, whom he draped in human skin to keep young and vibrant, took center stage at the Sci Fi Achievement Award Ceremony. 

Yes, they (the bones) were poised and articulate, but they told of years of being hidden from the public.  They also talked of Michael’s very critical and abusive language.

But their remarks were scripted. And when the bones spoke, it was worth examining what he said. The bones, which were escorted by Joe Jackson, thanked Joe for his assistance and management.  Michael would have returned to being black before he would have let his favorite creepy obsession have anything to do with Joe Jackson. Praising him in public? Never.

This shirt is genius. 

As you learned yesterday, I had to replace my ballcock.  (It is a part on a toilet, you pervert.) 

I wish I was the guy who wrote these instructions.  I personally like the following items.

3)  Remove old ballcock.  (Clearly, you don’t want some old cock in your way.)
4)  Insert ballcock into hole.  (No shit.  The hard part is getting it in the right hole.)
5)  Screw nut on ballcock shank.  (What the fuck?  That sounds painful!)
6)  Screw float ball and float rod.  (Again.  What the fuck?  My ball and rod don’t float!)

I was working on my broken toilet last night.  While working I broke that plastic tube that refills the water, only to find out that it is called a ballcock.  Yes, I broke my ballcock. 

I went to Lowe’s and the guy in the ballcock department kept asking if I had a 10 or a 14 inch ballcock.  I told him, “I never measured it.”  (For the record, that is a lie.  I measure it every day to see if it has grown.) 

Anyway, I wound up buying this adjustable ballcock!  I asked him if he had a ribbed one, but he found no humor in that.   

You have to love Lowe’s.  I bought eight of these for my girlfriend. 

(I saw this at Lowe’s in the plumbing department.)

I took this at Lowes.  Apparently the dolphins are puking from too much vodka last night. 

After DNA tests, it turns out that Barack Obama is 100% pirate.  This makes Captain Obama our first swashbuckler president.

I took this picture at Big Lots.  What the hell are these angels doing?  Really!  Somebody tell me!