My Christmas Wish List

I don't ask for much in my life. Actually I never ask for anything at all but this Christmas is different. This year there's a whole slew of things I'd like for Christmas so Santa I hope you're paying attention


-Optimus Prime cause inside I'm still an eight year old who likes toys


-That butt plug I asked for last year. I got coal instead. Coal hurts when you stick it in your ass Santa.


-World Peace…..nah who am I kidding. I hope the Jews slaughter the Palestinians so CNN gets a little more exciting. Less Wolf Blizter, more war


-Cmuff to get some pussy


-For Joe Mayo to hug me


-A three way consisting of myself, Jim Jeffries and that weird cashier at Wal-Mart who's one eye wanders to the left when you ask him questions about the discount on panty liners


-For Allen Iverson not to be poor


-A fridge that is filled with only fried chicken and Mad Elf


-Tap dancing lessons


-For Michael Jackson to rise from the dead and reclaim his throne as the King Of Pop


-Sweatpants. Keeping it Delco son


-Two turtle doves


-Teeth for all Delconians


-Two Chainz to sing a duet with David Bowie. Perhaps Little Drummer Boy


-For the band One Direction to die in a horrible stage accident


- Nude photos of my wife eating a hamburger


-A date with Tad Hamilton


-For every comedian I know and think is funny to make money and become famous


-To get five minutes of stage time as a stripper at Magic City


-For those who made the movie Magic Mike to admit they based that off my life


-The opportunity to dry hump Regis Philbin for three seconds


-For the band Midnight Oil to reunite and play my local concert hall


-To finally achieve my dream of becoming a member of the Sixers Dance Team


Look Santa. Failure to provide me with any of the above will result in me traveling to the North Pole, raping all of your Elves and after I'll take a giant dump on your carpet then blame it on the reindeer ok?

Diet

A few months ago I realized that I was slowly becoming a fat shit and with my impending nuptials right around the corner I finally got motivated to lose some weight so as to not ruin any wedding photos. I ended up losing twenty pounds to be exact and it was tough but the whole endeavor raised some interesting questions and changed my life in numerous ways.


For instance how come losing weight is the only time it's good to lose? For instance you lose twenty pounds everyone is happy for you. Lose your nephew at the mall then suddenly I'm the bad guy…he's fine we found him a day later, think of the great story he'll have. Now would be a great time to give a shout out to the King Of Prussia Mall Security. Thanks guys. Losing weight great. Losing children to strange guys in white windowless vans…not good.


The diet also changed my life. I would often find myself up late, alone and naked in front of my computer clicking through Olive Garden's website looking at the menu and the pictures of all the unlimited soup, salad and breadsticks and of course the chicken parm while rubbing my chest and moaning " Look at all that cheese! Go ahead chicken parm put that sauce on don't be shy!"


Then when my wife would enter the room I'd quickly click out of the website like a teenager who just discovered the wonders of the internet and the shame that goes along with that discovery and when she'd ask me " Hi honey, whatca looking at?"


" Oh nothing. Just some porn."


As I would wait for her to exit the room and while two women were making out furiously on the screen the whole time I would be looking at the taskbar for Olive Garden's website and screaming in my head " JESUS CHRIST LADY WOULD YOU LEAVE THE ROOM!!! THE FETTUCINE ALFREDO IS UP NEXT!!!"


Nick

Volunteer Firemen Scare Me

In the wake of Hurricane Sandy never has it been made more certain of how important Police, Firemen and Paramedics are during a disaster. Without these brave "First Responders" and their offshoot the "Second Responders" you know, the guys who stopped off for coffee before joining in the rescue of that lady from her burning attic, surviving a disaster would be damn near impossible and we should thank and appreciate these men and women whenever we get the chance.


That being said I must admit I'm fucking afraid of Volunteer Firemen.


Deathly afraid. Well not of all of them. Even the sane and decent men and women who willingly hang around a firehouse FOR FREE to put their life at risk to save yours clearly have something slightly off but are decent folks who care about their communities. No I'm talking about that subset of individuals who harbor a near Taliban like fanaticism for fire that sometimes causes them to set fires themselves just so they can put them out. Those people frighten me.


I fondly recall a time as a child when my friends and I would be out riding bikes and a fire truck would scream past us and we would peddle our little hearts out to follow it in the hopes of witnessing some smoke and fire but I grew up, found Nintendo and vagina and no longer cared about witnessing the worst day of someone's life.


Some of these men and women….not so much. They get off on your misery. They actually want your house to be on fire and that's why I'm deathly afraid of Volunteer Firemen.


P.S. If my house is on fire and you save me, then I will totally take the aforementioned back.

Insert Foot In Mouth

One would think that a man who has a foot fetish that I would just love my own foot in my mouth however that is not the case. After years and years of having zero mental editor I've developed either an aversion to the taste of my own foot, as I keep having to insert it in my mouth on almost a weekly occasion.


The last time I actually tasted my own foot was Friday when my boss Dan approached me with terrible news.


"Nick did you hear? Stu had a stroke!"


So I replied "Well is he ok? Like can he still walk?"


Then my boss Dan looked at me like I had taken his mother out to Outback and a movie and never called her again. He then looked at me and said, "C'mon Nick, Stu!" With emphasis on the name as if I wasn't quite grasping the whole of the situation.


"What? C'mon some strokes aren't that severe, lots of people suffer minor strokes and can walk again." I replied to him with a certain defiance usually reserved for the mothers of criminals who are interviewed by the local news after their son just killed ten people, totally unwilling to believe their son is a monster despite evidence to the contrary.


Then after a few moments when it all sank in, I looked at my boss Dan and his total lack of confusion at my lack of understanding when it hit me: Of course Stu can't walk after his stroke cause he couldn't walk to begin with cause he's been in a fucking wheelchair for decades. Insert foot in mouth.

What It Means To Be From Delco

Delaware County Pennsylvania. The often maligned county that sits to the west of Philadelphia. The home of excessive pride in one's county that will rival the pride certain European nation-states feel right before they go to war and start slaughtering each other. A better example might be how the people of Palestine have such a love for a land that is an absolute shithole.

What does being from Delaware County mean? What does it entail? What cultural identifiers exist that would aid in recognizing a citizen of Delco?

As someone who for four years studied Delcology at Delaware County Community College, I have put together a list that will not only help anthropologists years from now discover the true meaning of Delaware County but aid in those born here in recognizing and thus taking pride in how Delco they truly are.

-Grow up in Collingdale, Folcroft, or Upper Darby then move to West Chester and try to fit in
-Have at least one Protection From Abuse or PFA for short, against you
-Hold an undying belief that the Bazaar of All Nations was the greatest place to shop in spite of the evidence that suggests it was a total shitpit
-Get arrested at an Eagles game
-Grow up in Ridley, never leave Ridley. Cut your finger, bleed Raider Green
-Understand that the corridor of Route 1 between Drexel Hill and Springfield is the worst stretch of road in the entire US. The highway to hell in Baghdad from the Gulf War I wasn't as perilious.
-Know a bartender at any of the following bars ( Casey's Barnaby's, Dirty Nelly's) who can totally hook you up
-Date and marry someone from your hometown whom ten of your friends already slept with
-Know at least ten people who have died from prescription drug overdose
-Own or have owned in the past a suped up Dodge Neon
- Willingness to fight over the slightest insult, real or perceived, at the drop of a hat
-blame the decay of your neighborhood on black people while totally ignoring the myriad factors that contribute to neighborhood decline
-Be Catholic
-When you head into Philly, you ignore all the cultural offerings and head straight to Old City…cause it's girls night out….go out with your bitches…punch any man who refers to your friends as bitches…have the irony lost on you.
-Start a cover band or follow a cover band to the point of religious fanaticism. Call them talented or consider yourself an artist.
-The Delco Tour of Duty: Four years at DCCC
- Play in a bar league sport like Softball or Lacrosse, take it or have taken it as seriously as conspiracy theorists combed over the Zapruder film all the while trying to relive those glory days at Bonner
-Not know what the Zapruder film is, look it up.
-Pass out or have passed out at a Dave Matthews concert.
-Live in Drexel Hill. Talk shit about Upper Darby. Be clueless to know that Drexel Hill is only a postal designation and not a town and that you live in Upper Darby.
-Hold an intense jealousy for people who live in Radnor.
-Vacation in Sea Isle every year. Convince yourself it is just like Avalon. Cross over Townsend Inlet Bridge, be sorely disappointed.
-Hold an intense rage for anyone who isn't connected to someone else via the Delco Catholic School System or Slut Express. Look down upon anyone who isn't from Delco.
-Go to nice parties in Montgomery County, tell the host you are from Upper Darby, watch the host brace for a hit or clutch their purse or slowly slink away from the conversation so they can lock up their valuables
-Believe Media to be the next Wayne or Narberth.
-Possess the ability to name six pizza places within a five mile radius of your home
-Cheer when they open a new Target a mile down the road from another Target
-Wear pajamas out in public, curse regardless of venue or company
-Delco Axiom: Wawa is the greatest store ever created.

I hope the above listed can help future generations identify the culture that is Delco but instill a sense of self and pride in current and future residents so that they may go forth and wreak havoc on the land.

Nicholas Kupsey –Associate Degree In Delcology DCCC 01

Butt Chugging!

Humans since the dawn of time have experimented with a myriad of substances to relax, elevate and expand their minds, commune with the dead or the heavens and in some cases shut out the voices in their heads that compel them to watch reruns of " Small Wonder" all and all, we humans really like to get fucked up.

These substances, be they alcohol, drugs or even in some cases food could be ingested, snorted, drank, injected or inhaled and up until recently these were the primary ways one could alter their mind and or mood.

Then from the Frat houses of colleges the country over came a new and inspired way to have fun with alcohol being that just drinking it was not enough have now kicked off the new trend dubbed " Butt Chugging"

If you are a stranger to anal danger such as I then you'll need to know that butt chugging consists of placing a tube in one's anus then having a friend ( since this idea comes from a fraternity, there's nothing homoerotic about this whatsoever ) pour a beer or liquor down said tube thus enabling the tubed person to get " Fucked up bro" at an accelerated rate which in turn makes the music of Dave Matthews seem as good as the joyful sounds that come from the lute of Apollo.

One can only surmise that two frat brothers, bored with just drinking beers in between date rapes, most likely turned to each other and said " You know what would make this more fun? If you got a tube, stuck it up my ass and poured a beer down it. Let's make this more complicated than it needs to be."

People now hold " BYOT" or " Bring your own tube" parties. Proctologists whom never got invited to parties due to their weird obsession and occupation, are now party stars for their ability to navigate a tube to the colon.

Yet due to coverage of this trend on " The View" suburban mothers are now worried about something they never even thought about until Elizabeth Hasselback took time out from eating black children to warn them of the perils of butt chugging. Now when teenagers come home late at night their parents greet them at the door saying " Bend over, let me smell your ass."

Until the ending of the world people will constantly look for new and exotic ways to get intoxicated. The marriage of ass and tube and booze is but another way we humans experiment with making life so much more enjoyable. My only hope is the tube trend moves away from the ass and moves somewhere more wholesome like the ear cause it's only one small oops from that tube being jammed into a dude's pee-hole.

My Problem With Hip Hop

As I get older it seems the more I no longer can relate to music. Take Hip Hop for instance. Growing up I loved hip hop just like every other white suburban teenager who thought he was gangster. Yet now I'm an adult mailman who takes a daily aspirin to help prevent a heart attack. Lil Wayne doesn't rap about health. He raps about sipping champagne and Bentley's…I on the other hand drink Pepsi and drive a mail truck.

I used to love The Notorious B.I.G. Biggie Smalls was my favorite rapper growing up. When I go back and listen to his songs I can't relate like I used to. When I was a younger wigger I would hang out on street corners drinking forties so it made sense to listen to music that emulated the lifestyle I was living: That of a privileged white kid who had the luxury of pretending to be gangster without any of the real consequences or side effects.

Perhaps I'm trying to relate to these songs and this music from my adult perspective. Maybe I've grown too old to appreciate it for what it is.However Biggie Smalls never rapped " I love it when you call me big Poppa/throw your mail in the air/If you's a bill payer..rappers don't buy stamps!

It has also become impossible for me to sing rap near my black friends. As a white man I'm never allowed to say the 'N' word. I can't abbreviate it or just say the letter it just sounds fucking stupid. For instance I will use a sample that uses the 'N' word rather frequently, "Craziest" by Naughty By Nature:

"Jersey N-words are the craziest/Miami N-Words are the craziest/Seattle N-Words are the craziest

It just doesn't "flow" so I tried using "Pollock" being offending the Poles bothers no one, so here that goes : Jersey Pollocks are the craziest/Miami Pollocks are the craziest/Seattle Pollocks are the craziest

I can see a conversation between to two thugs now "You don't want to fuck with those Philly Pollocks Raheem."

"Why not son?
"I heard they the CRAZIEST!!!"
"oh yeah who told you that?"
"Trech"
"Word?"
"Word!"

The above will never happen cause it sounds ridiculous. I can't find any way around it. I can't relate to rappers and their lifestyle, I can't emulate their bling nor their big booty'd ho's nor can I even sing the very songs I like cause I'm not allowed to use the 'N' word. I guess it is time I get a Maroon 5 CD. I know I can relate to them, they're white.

Nick

Why I Never Get Invited Anywhere

I 'm quite surprised that I get invited to social gatherings and parties being that I have all the interpersonal skills of a rabid wolverine coupled with my ability to not only chew with my mouth open but to talk with it full of food rendering my speech a mix of Scooby-Doo meets Jock from the special needs class in High School who often wandered around campus petting small birds. Think of Sloth from The Goonies and subtract class and charm and thus you'd have me. So when an invitation arrived via mail I was not only filled with anxious glee but shock as well. I never get invited to anything, I was barely invited to my own wedding. I quickly tore open the envelope like a child tears open a wrapped Christmas present and when it was completely unsheathed from the prison the postal service forced it into I held it up to my face and quickly scanned the details yet I paused when I got to the time. The time said 8 till ????????? My blood began to slowly

roil with anger. Anger for the couple who invited me, the uninvitable. Fuck you I thought to myself. So you're so crazy you can't include an end time? As if the exclusion of an end time creates some big mystery or implies the party will be just like a west coast party cause there ain't not party like a west coast party cause a west coast party don't stop. Settle, people who invited me, you guys aren't Snoop Dogg.I've seen the house the party was being held at, it includes a sign on the door that reads " Praise The Lord…Welcome" and that always awful " Live Laugh Love" first things first I came here to judge you on the condition of your house and your child rearing skills if I wanted to praise God and feel judged I'd go to church and secondly before you start telling me how to live my life with that stupid "Live Laugh Love" sign why don't you offer me a drink, where the hell are your manners? Filled with anger and the whole

inner monologue you see above, I quickly called to RSVP. Upon the male host of the party answering the phone I quickly laid into him like Jimmy Page laid into the guitar solo from Stairway To Heaven. " Look asshole, I will fucking arrive at your party when I feel like it and leave whenever you throw me out….or when I piss in your kids bedroom and wear your wife's panties on my head…whatever comes first. See you then asshole. Oh and by the way, I'm not bringing a casserole." The very next day I received an email consisting of my official disinvite. Fuck them, who wants to go to my Nephew's Christening anyway

Questions I Don't Get

There are many things over the years that people have asked me. For instance my wife always asks “Is it in yet?” when we are having relations. My Father would ask me “How come you aren’t as successful as your brother? You have a degree and he doesn’t and you both work for the same company and he’s got a better job than you.” I often get asked “Hey do you want fries with that?” a lot due to my poor diet and I always get “When was the last time you showered?” due to my poor hygiene and hobo-esque clothing that I like to refer to as “Hipster” but in reality it's just moldy stuff I culled from a Salvation Army in a futile attempt to look cool.

However there are a great many things people have never said to me, either because of my height, my looks, or my lack of wisdom so I’ve decided to compile all of these unasked questions into a list. Enjoy.

“Hey can you grab that thing off the top shelf for me?”

“Hey we need another guy for our basketball team, want to play?”

“How do I know if he really loves me? I say a prayer with every heartbeat, I fall in love whenever we meet, I’m asking you because you know about these things.”

“Hey man you would make an excellent nude model. Want to come by my sculpting class and model that physique?”

“Can you teach me how to Dougie?”

“What’s it like to be the most talented writer/podcast host on the planet?”

“Does this look like herpes to you?”

“Hello…is it me you’re looking for?”

“Do you spend all of your time at the gym or did you get that body from working and consequently eating everything at a McDonald's frying station?”

“How are you making out with that rap career? You did say on the last day of high school that I should keep an ear out for your Platinum beats.”

“Want to see me naked?”

“Hey I have candy want to get in my white, windowless van?”

“Can I give you $20 for your used underwear? Don't wipe.”

“Did you like Ducky or Blane in Pretty In Pink?”

“I have two tickets to see Jesus Jones, want to come with!?”

“Hey, as your best male friend I can ask you this. Do these jeans show off my manaltoe?”

That's all I've got for now. Please leave a comment or post other questions you wouldn't ask me?

What if all the African Americans left us?

During the eighties a popular racist phrase entered our vernacular via the Spike Lee film “Do The Right Thing” that phrase urged African Americans to “Go the fuck back to Africa.” Hardly was this a new concept for Italian men the country over had been uttering this sentiment for decades blindly ignorant of the fact that they too were once a hated minority within this country and were once wished to return to their homeland filled of Fila track suits, Italian horns and the ancestors of the cast of The Jersey Shore.

Upon being lucky enough to catch this film on cable the other day I pondered the question: What would happen if we woke up one day and the whole of the African American population just up and left. Gone, left, peaced out. What would this country be like? Well I’ve compiled a brief list of how things would drastically change

-Being devoid of Jay-Z and Flo-Rida we would be left with the musical rap-rock stylings of Fred Durst who would implore us to “do it all for the nookie” one last time. We would follow suit.

-Republicans now being devoid of a minority to lay the blame on, would finally have to accept the fact that white people are the single biggest recipients of welfare in this country. Heads would explode all throughout the land as this news disseminated via Fox News.

-BET would now be WET for White Entertainment Television or how we’ve always known it: NBC

-The countries of Africa would dominate the Olympics leaving the United States only good at Tennis and Badminton.

-With not enough talented receivers to catch passes from white quarterbacks the NFL would fold in seconds after returning to the boring running game of its roots.

-Welcome to America’s favorite sport: Hockey!!!!!!!

-The NBA would be populated by older Jewish men who shoot underhanded free throws and complain that the venues are often “Too drafty, and the nachos rather expensive” Ratings go up ten-fold as only rich Jewish men would watch to see their cousin Saul miss a jump shot.

-The following restaurants would close due to lack of clientele : Red Lobster, Olive Garden  and Golden Corral.

-Kenny G, Michael Bolton and Sting would be huge winners at the Grammy Awards and would top the charts with their super-group song “White Guy Strut” starting off a dance craze the nation over.

-Without the crappy shows of Tyler Perry TBS would go under in seconds as would the WB as programs such as “Stable White Family” and “Look At All Our Money and Food” really aren’t appealing to affluent and well fed white people.

-Now that black people are gone, affluent white children would adopt the music and culture of Mexican immigrants like driving low rider cars, wearing khakis and wife beaters, picking fruit and listening to Mariachi music this coining the phrase “Miggers” Yolo, it ain’t just for breakfast anymore.

-Without a target audience, Joey Greco would no longer tape the show “Cheaters” and would turn his direction into shaving his mustache in a less creepy way.

-Baseball would remain largely the same. Boring and with a ton of white people

-Dancing would consist of the variety once viewed in the movie “Footloose” but with less Kevin Bacon and more your drunk uncoordinated Uncle Ted who was a mouth kisser.

-House of Pain would become the pre-eminent hip hop group. Vanilla Ice would be considered the Led Zepplin of rap and Jesus would hate us all for this

-Without Jehova’s knocking on their door every Saturday people would finally be free to leave their doors open on a Saturday morning for the first time in decades.

-Due to those doors being open, robberies from Meth heads would skyrocket by 100%

-Places like Alabama and the deep South will still be shitholes, just less interesting ones.

-Without Black Opposition, The White House and Congress will enact laws encouraging white people to cook soul food, take stand up comedy lessons, break dance at random times, dice games in alleys, perform poetry, act, and try to learn the blues since the mass exodus of African Americans would render this country boring, one dimensional and devoid of any real culture and diversity.

Touch Me I'm Nick -by Nick Kupsey

Get your copy today on Amazon.com

Get your copy today on Amazon.com

Inspiration

Being home all day I've witnessed the countless inspirational quotes and it is a goddamn miracle I haven't slit my throat my a rusty screwdriver. Stop. Please stop. The greatest band in the world, The Beatles, already came up with the greatest quote so the rest of this shit is nonsense and about as pointless as a tattoo on a black guy " And in the end, the love you take, is equal to the love you make"  Stop this faux Oprah dysfunctional bullshit. Your quotes haven't made anyone stop cutting themselves or cured their daddy issues. Your words carry zero weight. As for weight gain, instead of posting stupid retreaded self help bullshit why don't you put the cheeseburger down and go for a walk. Do the world a favor, save the self help for your therapist. Nick

Celebrity Death Bashing - America's New Favorite Pastime?

It started long ago, but it hit its stride the day Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett died (June 25, 2009). That's obviously a big thanks to social networking. I've noticed that's there's a clear line drawn down the middle when it comes how people handle stars dying. First there's those that feel sorrow for the recently deceased supernova. And then there's those who use such an event to fuel a slew of new cruel jokes and punchlines in an attempt to see who can out-cringe the others who are also taking this approach dealing with the sad news. I would say I'm one of the latter.

So with that, let me preface the rest of this by saying, yes, death is very sad. But the way I see it, the further outside someone's death gets away from your inner circle of people you actually know and care about, the easier it is to deal with, or to some, make fun of. So being that it is unrealistic for someone of general ilk, like you and I, to be very close to a celebrity figure, it seems in that case it becomes easier to use a different emotion, as in humor over sadness, to deal with pain or react to bad news. The good news is, with using this approach, there's always a small bright side to these attempts of dark humor, and that is it's usually just a joke.

If I may, it needs to be said. The first group of people I mentioned earlier crack me up. These are the people who hear the news, rarely verify if it's true in any nature, and then immediately update their walls with their condolences. A small, very small, percentage of these people are genuine. But the rest either want to be Dan Rather or Diane Sawyer and be the first to break the latest hot story, or they want to see the comments and likes they get from it (aka need attention). What proves this fact is, if you check their friends list for people they follow, rarely will you find that these people ever had interest in the celebrity's social network offerings at all. So that confirms to me that their posts aren't being made so that the celebrity's family or friends can see it with sincere sympathy. So instead of posting it publicly, why not say a quick prayer to yourself quietly, rather than broadcasting to the world that you're sorry someone died!? And to top it all off, the people that say R.I.P. are the best. You're saying that to someone that can't hear or read what you're saying, so why say it? I know it's an old expression, but it's dumb. Believe me, I'm guilty of saying R.I.P., but only when I care enough about the person, and I'm usually at their viewing/wake saying it as I see them for the very last time. But when a celebrity dies, I usually say to them what I told them yesterday. Nothing.

If you truly cherish a celebrity or any artist or any high profile person, why not take 5 minutes out of your life, find their contact info online and say what you have to say to them. This way you won't feel bad and assume you have to say something after they've passed, which is when it's too late and they'll never know what you wanted to say. (The only other way they won't know, would be that they're too arrogant to read messages from fans. Yeah, they're awesome people to adore.) And believe me, you feel really dumb sending the message or letter, but you feel even better later because you sent it.

And while I'm at it, if you've got a lingering grudge with an old friend or family member you haven't spoken to in a while, then give them 5 minutes too. Chances are, you'll get a better reaction from whoever is closer in your inner circle. Forgive, forget, and move on...or be depressed about it forever and post cryptic references relating to them on your wall after they die, when it's too late.

As for the second group of people I mentioned earlier, most people would believe they have no heart when they hear the awful words that fill the air shortly after the death of a celebrity. That air usually being close to a comedy club or comedians in general, or their facebook walls. But when putting being offended aside, they can only make you smile by making you think about the way they see the world.

So with all of that being said, I guess I've always wondered what the big deal is about celebrities and most of them with the trashy lifestyles they live that draws in the common folk. I know it's more than being voyeuristic, but what else is it? It's just sad to me that everyday hard working people put their personal issues aside and focus on someone else's personal issues for entertainment. It doesn't make sense. The world is changing around us every minute, and it's been a long time since it's been for the better. So why are we distracting ourselves with celebrity deaths or gossip or even sports, knowing there's a world out there that needs fixing? People need to quit wasting brain cycles on this kind of entertainment, which in all actuality, is really outside the realm of entertainment that these celebrities provide.

-CMuff

Holy War

So I inadvertently started a holy war with the Jehovah's witnesses in the neighborhood I deliver mail to. You would think we would get along right, both of us going door to door... we have so much in common..we both give people shit they don't want So every saturday the hova's descend upon the neighborhood like white people descend upon an LL bean during a sale...pouring out of their so called " Kingdog Hall" which in fact looks less like a kingdom and more like a converted rent a center...let's face it if God had a kingdom on earth it would be the magic kingdom at Disney full of fireworks and shit.... So I spent the better part of my morning ducking and dodging old black women dressed in their finest outfits as they blocked every single mailbox like a piece of cholesterol blocks a fat guys arteries thereby making my job ten times fucking harder..... so by about lunch time I pretty much hated Jesus more than George Bush hated black people So at lunch I'm parked in the Wawa lot and I had my window cracked and out of the rear view mirror I see the same three black women approaching my van. I've got a mouth full of funyuns and nowhere to run, I'm trapped. I hear a slight tap on the window from the cane  of the short black woman who looked like gollum with a green hat and she attempted to slide a pamphlet into the crack in the window exactly like how I slot a letter through a mailslot and proceeded to ask " Do you read the bible?" I replied with a mouth full of funyuns " No sorry..I don't read fiction." Her face looked like a I just punched her in the vagina...the three of them backed away in horror and I felt like I achieved some sort of victory for people who hate being harassed. So an hour later I'm walking down a street and I see them coming up the opposite direction, so many of them they resemble the gangs from the video 'beat it' and as our paths crossed they began to hurl insults at me from across the street " You are a sinner!" " You are going to hell!!" Then finally the little old gollum with the cane from earlier raised that cane again, pointed it in my direction and said " You live in a den of inequity." To which I replied " How the hell did you know my den was furnished by Ikea?" So I went home that night and was still fuming over my little war with these non birthday celebrating assholes...that should tell you everything, they don't celebrate birthdays, fuck you.... birthdays rock So the next morning I'm having coffee wtih my future wife when I get an idea. I shoot up the stairs, hop in the shower, do my hair and put on my best suit. I strode by my bride to be looking fine as fuck for the the first time in a decade and she asked " where the hell are you going?" I grabbed a piece of paper,a pen and a red marker and and I told her " I'm going to spread the word." So I took the piece of paper, wrote " Church of Satan" on it and below it I drew and colored a devil but it came out more looking like a red cow...my drawing is so bad it looks like your retarded eight year old cousin broke into the crayola box " I drew picture" So I hopped in my gigantic 20inch tires lifted jeep,  you know the one that screams " I have a small penis" and " my mom never loved me" it was both in case you were wondering, and I'm looking good in my suit, so good gay men are pulling up to me at lights and saying " Hey Girlfriend" and I'm all like " Heyyyy" back cause I'm a silly bitch and I pulled up a few blocks away from the church. I walked down, and pounded on the door...and this Black herman munster looking dude opened the door and asked " How can I help you?" I replied " I was wondering if you'd like to join the church of satan.." and with that he said " You motherfucker" (they don't celebrate birthdays but apparently it is ok to curse?) and began to chase me. So I looked back, crumbled up the pamphlet and threw it at him and said " We are accepting new members." I could feel him gaining on me so I looked back, and where there was one now there were like eight, and one of them looked awfully familiar but I can't stop and ask, it's not the time, or I'll get holy rolled, so I start to feel like Han solo being chased through te death star by storm troopers.  There was also a white guy in the mix, which almost made me pause mid-chase, turn around and ask " How much drugs and prison time did you do to fuck your life up bad enough to want to join that church." But like I said, time was of the essence however the question still haunts me. Cause let's face it, not too many Hova's are white. So I ended up at  an instersection, a car almost hits me but I slid over that shit like Bo Duke over the hood of the General Lee and the Hova's stopped and I screamed " Hey guys, what would Jesus do? I know, nothing cause he's a fake. Tell J-hova I said hi and I hope he and Beyonce are ok" I turned around and beat feet back to the millenum falcon... Feeling self satisfied, I walked into work on monday morning and I was greeted by a black co worker named Joe. He approached me and said " Hey Nick how was your Sunday?" " Fantastic" I replied " You get a good run in?" Curious, I retorted " As a matter of fact yes I did." And I as said that, he pulled out from his back pocket my crumpled up psychotic pamphlet, handed it to me and said " There's something wrong with you, and I will pray for you." I smiled with a shit eating grin and replied " So you're gonna join the church of satan?"

The KupMuff Show interviews Rick Santorum

Hey everyone! Get this. Rick Santorum stopped by The KupMuff Show studio over the weekend, during his Presidential campaign trail. He told us we were the only media he could trust because we make him feel open and free discussing what's on his mind. What we get is a treat for the masses.  Please share this link before it's too late. The people interested in voting for Rick Santorum must hear this. The KupMuff Show - Santorum Interview

Oops! Sorry Jesus

Tragedy

Tragedy comes in many forms and in many shapes and sizes. Hitler and his rampage over Europe was a tragedy. New Coke was a tragedy. David Hasselhoff being allowed to sing is a horrific tragedy...again you can blame the Germans. Yet not everything that occurs is a tragedy. Not getting picked first on the basketball court isn't a tragedy, being teased by your friends isn't a tragedy and most certainly when a celebrity offs themselves via drugs, alcohol or bad behavior then it can be marked up to stupidity, not tragedy. For instance Whitney Houston. Her death has been called a tragedy, but I think this is a misuse of the word. Ladies and gentlemen I will tell you what a real tragedy is and that's any man, especially white, who still dresses like a thug well over the age of 25. You know the guy, straight brimmed hat with stickers still on it, neck tattoo that just screams "I've gone as far in society as I'd like to go" more community college than Harvard. I have yet to see one Harvard graduate with a neck tattoo of the name " Lafawnda". The only guy who still drives a suped up Honda Civic that you can hear coming from ten miles away due to the horrible muffler and the crappy audio system that only seems to rattle the cheap plastic spoiler. It should also be noted it may be the last car on earth with tinted windows. The question I have is what becomes of these men when they reach their sixties? " Hey mom did Grandpop poop himself???" " No honey that's just how he wears his pants." And that my friends, is a tragedy.

8 till ????

I just recieved an invitation in the mail today to a party. I am sure you are as shocked as I am that someone actually invited me somewhere especially since I have all the interpersonal skills and charm of a feral wolverine and that they did so using paper and not some stupid souless e-vite. I do not want to seem like an ingrate but after examining the invitation there is a small detail that I take umbrage with and I would like to share that with you now. There's nothing in this world I hate more than when someone lists the time for a party with the end time being question marks. For example "8 Till ???????" Fuck you. As if its some big mystery or implies that the party is a west coast party cause a west coast party don't stop....those question marks make it seem you are so crazy and zany and so awesome that the gathering you are hosting may go on forever... Settle down Snoop Dog it's a tupperware party. I'll tell you what. Due to your stupid question marks I will fucking arrive when I feel like it and leave whenever you throw me out...or when I piss in your closet or decide to wear your wife's panties on my head, whichever comes first. So for future reference unless you are having a huge party fuled by cocaine, strippers and Andy Dick then please put an end time on your invitation. I thank you in advance.

I Want To Be Adopted

As some of you know and now others who do not know, both of my parents are deceased which makes me an orphan. Tragic to become an orphan so late in life. I feel robbed, cheated and angry at the lord for taking away what was once mine. This is exactly why I envy kids who grew up in the Orphanage. They at least never knew their parents so they have nothing to miss once they depart this earthly plane. Sure they had to mop floors, risk rape at the hands of foster parents and siblings and of course the whole not feeling loved thing but hey, at least they never knew what they were missing. So I guess my life is just like the musical "Annie" save for the fact that the old bald guy I met one time at a hotel bar slipped something in my drink and raped me. So yes it's exactly like the musical...The sun will come out, tomorrow.... It should be noted and I would be remiss if I didn't add the circumstances of my parents demise. See they were playing an intense game of Jenga when my Father knocked over the blocks and then my mother shot him. Such a dangerous game, it should really come with a warning or something. This has thus left me an orphan and an orphan who is getting married in less than four months so in order to feel loved and supported and to balance out our family photos since my fiancé is Italian and has like eighty cousins and sisters and aunts I'm looking to be adopted. Yes I want to be adopted, for just one day. Those willing to adopt me would have to be white for obvious reasons, preferably of Irish descent so we sort of resemble each other with our bad teeth, big ears and pasty skin and also be either childless or have a deceased child this way they can spoil me rotten all the while making me the sole center of their attention. So if you don't mind being called Mom and Dad for a day by a random stranger, enjoy a free meal, in possession of most of your teeth and want to adopt me, please contact me post haste. If not, then I will be forced to have uneven and empty pictures and when the Mother/Groom dance comes I will have to slowly twirl in a circle with my arms out while Rod Stewart's "Forever Young" blares through the speakers making everyone feel sorry for me or awkward. Don't let my wedding be awkward, adopt me for a day.

Caption with CMuff results - week 110

CMuff pulls one out of his ass.

I Want A Hermaphrodite

As some of you know and for those who may not, I am getting married...yay...one vagina for eternity...one vagina to rule them all. Yes her vagina does rule but being that our wedding is still four months away I find it odd and rather strange that people keep asking us when we are going to have children and what sex we would prefer in this as yet to exist child. First off in regards to childbirth, people always ask about the birth, but never about the conception? If you ask me the birth is rather pedestrian; woman squeezes child out, doctor cuts the cord and the father passes out. Routine. Yet no one that I know of ever asks about the conception. This is far more interesting, we all know how a child is born but we don't know exactly how our friends fuck. " So Dan tell me about the conception. Where did it take place and what happened?" " Well Steve I was fucking Joan from behind of course pulling her hair as she likes and she mumbled something but I couldn't hear her cause I jammed her panties in her mouth, again something she just absolutely loves so instead of cumming on her back I instead came inside her and nine months later little Dexter came popping out!." Infinitely more fascinating right? Exactly. But I digress so let me return to my point. My future wife and I only want one child for various reasons, all of them selfish, so when people ask me what sex I want for my baby I'm just going to tell them that I'm praying for a hermaphrodite. Who wouldn't really? It's the best of both worlds and you only have to have one kid!!! Think of it like this... want to go to a Phillies game? Slap a hat and jersey on little Tim and take him. Want to go to the ballet but afraid you will be called gay by your friends? Slap a dress on it can call it Tina now you can play with all the My Little Ponies you want and enjoy the Nutcracker without your friends cracking yours. On my wedding night when my wife is carrying me into our rented and hopefully dimly lit hotel room I will be praying to the fertility gods that I am blessed with the buy one get one free of children and that I conceive this child doggy style...just how mommy likes it. Nick

Behind the scene

Here's a glimpse of the LaffCast.com command center. This is what makes The KupMuff Show, The Panic Hour, Verbal Assault and The Donkey Show happen.

Greg Lynn from Show 107

Listen to show 107 to hear when Greg Lynn stopped by to do The KupMuff Komedy Korner, and brought his kid with him.

Hello everyone, new and old!

Hello human,

Welcome to The KupMuff Show blog page. If you don't know what a KupMuff is, you'll soon find out. Hosted by Chris Scamuffa, aka CMuff, Nicholas L. Kupsey, aka Delco's Best Mailman, and Joanne Mac, aka Jugs. It's a podcast on LaffCast.com that airs live every Tuesday night at 9 pm Eastern time on Ustream.TV and SHOUTcast.com. The show airs live for one to two hours. Don't worry though. If you missed the live airing of any show, you can watch or listen at anytime during the week.

www.kupmuff.net is our main homepage. Go here and click on our show name.

Use www.ustream.tv/channel/the-kupmuff-show to find our live broadcast or recently recorded videos.

Use http://www.shoutcast.com/Internet-Radio/laffcast to find our live audio broadcast. Other live LaffCast.com shows can be found here as well. When there isn't a live show, each show's recent recording will be on loop throughout the week. You can also download the SHOUTcast phone app and search for "laffcast" to find this station.

Use tinyurl.com/kupmuff-itunes to find the audio recordings of our recent shows on iTunes. Or you can search for "kupmuff" on iTunes. And another way to get audio recordings of recent shows, is via Stitcher. http://stitcher.com/listen.php?fid=16180

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Thanks,

Chris, Nick and Joanne...and Butler

We've got buuuusssshhhh!!!!

Hey KupMuff fans!

Guess what? We've done it. We've setup a blog, and there's nothing you can really do about it. Love it or hate it, it is what it is.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YWshbNTYVqg