The Madison Conkizourse Hotizel and Gubnah’s Clube

Number one: let me talk about gas prices for a second, because it has become apparent to me that the Shell station by my house will be demanding some of my stock options, a stake in my future poker earnings, and the foreskin of my first-born son soon. This fucking shit is expensive. I scanned my receipt for the goddamn gas and here it is, with my annotations so you can follow along:



A corpulent plutocrat better be eating well this evening.


Jesus. Soon, gasoline will be worth far more than platinum and then Madd will have to import fake chains with tiny bottles of fake gasoline in them so he can appear to be as well off as the rappers who drive 12mpg Hummers. In reality, I was at the exact same gas station 2 weeks ago and the price was $2.01/gal. Then I stopped last week and the price was $2.11/gal. I almost choked when I saw that. This morning I pulled in for my usual gas up and saw… this. I was absolutely dumbfounded. “How could gas be that much?” I wondered aloud. No one answered by un-unspoken question. There was a lady filling up her Navigator next to me, and I was pondering whether I should ask her if she makes $100 million or $100 billion dollars a year to be filling up an SUV at $2.21 a fucking gallon.

In other news, Casperson and numerous other Connie associates have been hemming and hawing of the new look of the shuttle van for the last couple days, and I finally got some pics of it so I could make my own decision. Final result? Gay. As in, I would be ashamed to drive the thing. It wouldn’t be nearly so bad if it wasn’t half white, half dumb-ass picture. Casperson sent me a picture that I took the liberty of retouching a bit. I hope you like the results.



Yo, yo, yo post office man… HIT MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!.


Har har. Here’s the full-size version of the above pic. In other Concourse news, I was sent some hilarious pictures that I decided must be revealed to the public. For all you rich, old-money ladies out there, here is why you don’t ask bellman to watch out for your fur coat while you dance around the governor.

Basketball game tonight. The season’s winding down and I for one can only say good fucking riddance. I’d rather lose to people I know I at least have a chance at beating. Currently I’m quasi-sidelined with an elbow injury, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to face Cal on Sunday, we’ll play wait-and-see on that one.

Last but not least, good to hear from Kalissh in the land of the Bucks. I checked in on the Haiku Gallery this morning and it appears that he has been on a haiku-writing ram-fucking-page lately, so check it out when you have time. A lot of it has to do with Rolling Stone magazine.

-YOSSARIAN LIVES!

7 thoughts on “The Madison Conkizourse Hotizel and Gubnah’s Clube

  1. Hi Ro!!! I had a Vanilla Coke today and thought of your fabulous Vanilla Coke experience after you had been drinking the night before. Hope Intuit is treating you well…

  2. Now that you fixed the repeating problem, my post sounds stupid (see post at 3:25PM), could you please delete it and this one too. Thanks.

  3. Now that you fixed the repeating problem, my post sounds stupid (see post at 3:25PM), could you please delete it and this one too. Thanks.

  4. Last night Eros and I had a romantic as hell date. First I took him to dinner at the French Quarter Cafť (jambalaya, beer, whiskey) then we watched the Vagina Monologs starring Bellgirl. Ewaz gets major props for attending this event with me considering that when he went last year I mocked him incessantly for three months. Ewaz, OíNeil, consider all the words I said to you last year eaten. All in all it was a good time. Bellgirl keeps insisting sheís now a movie star.

    1. Wow. So Bachelor Party Eve is officialóI canít fucking wait. Last night I made some headway in the quest for a school bus, and this morning the Brewers E-mailed me the 2003 catering menu. Also the Brewerís signed a new pitcher named Diggens. Last year he was 0-4 with an 8.36 ERA. Yippeee!

    2. Ray Allen Remembrance Night: Wednesday, March 5th, 7:00 P.M. Iíd like to have it at Caspersonís if possible. (by the way Caspa, nice pictures. Getting Wilcox in bling bling was a genius move) Iím really doing this on Wednesday. Even if it is me drinking and watching the movie alone. Madd, you should organize a simultaneous West Coast version. Before the movie there will be a 30 second moment of silence for Mr. Rogers.

    3. Raj, tell your pa Iím sleeping over on the 21st.

    4. Weíve implemented some new 933 Jenifer St. drunken driving legislation. If youíve been drinking and you want to drive, the other roommates get to try and knock you down with this big ass pillow. If you get knocked down, call a cab: Youíre not driving.

    5. After the play, I had a few drinks with the cast and crew, and then went to the I.P. for a front desk girlís birthday party. Notables: A) Iím doing way too many girly shots these days. B) Timmer won the Drunkest Son of a Bitch trophy. C) For some inexplicable reason the whazz machine and Mrs. Pac-Man machine have switched places; the whazz machine is now by the Menís room. D) After the I.P. I watched Bellgirl battle her roommate in an Iron Chef grilled cheese battle. His baked grilled cheese with green peppers defeated Bellgirlís reverse bagel grilled cheese.

    Thatís about it. I gotta get ready for work. Itís state wrestling weekend. Oh hell yeah.

  5. so lastnight me and my friends hit up the brit in almaden for some thursday night drinkin. It was cool. yeah the white trash was off the hook…

    Anyways, my friend (and old roomie) who we will call “Roomie1” met up with a group of us and brought her boyfriend along.

    Okay, to me, people in relationships fall into 2 categories. Either they are clingons to each other at bars, or they are minglons (definition: people who mingle and can be seperated for some time from their other half). Minglons are great. I think Zach and Erin are minglons amd I give them props for that shit..

    Okay back to my story. So everyone was sorta talkin smack about “Roomie1” and how she looked bored. Brie and Candice went to the bathroom and had a conversation about “Roomie1”. They talked shit basically and please keep in mind that they were drunk. Well, nobody knew that “roomie1” was using the pooper. So “Roomie1” storms out of the pooper after hearing a shitload of shit said about her and walks out of the bathroom. It was crazy. Her face went from a pale white to firey red. She left the bar with her boyfriend and that was the last of them. we tried to call them, but it went straight to her Voicemail…

    So your probably wondering why I am writing about this nonsense.. JUST Let this be a lesson to you all! If you go into a bathroom at a bar, please make sure that the person your talking shit about is not in one of the stalls. Thank you for your time.

  6. We get the fuckin point fuddruckus, stop posting it. We all know scientist was booed off the stage last night for his freestyle, but that’s because he’s no S Fitty.

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