The Chicle Story (Illustrated Version)

The setting: Wirkuswhazz’s birthday party, which was held at the house where zachery, Rock Chalk, peterstiffly, and Uncle Big Show were living at the time.

I think my superb illustrationS speak for themselves as far as the rest of the story goes:

No sex that night to say the least. The End.

And just cause I can: here’s a picture of Jen in high school eating Taco Bell Rice n’ Beans with yours truly:

Boom. Bold Cal out.

26 thoughts on “The Chicle Story (Illustrated Version)

  1. By the way, it really was a fantastic explosion of light and sound when the pinata broke. I almost soiled myself.

  2. You all wanna see the picture of Jen with a empty box of MGD on her head again? Cause I can make that happen no problem.

  3. You guys are impinging on my good nature. Ha ha ha. Just jokin ya. That’s a pretty good illustrative version of the story. Seriously, though, I really was going to murder everyone there that night. God damn you guys and your chiclet.

  4. Chiclets can be used as currency in TJ when your cash flow has come up a little short at the strip joint.

  5. 1. A+ version of the Chicle Debacle. The other part of the story is the midnight binge on hot dogs. Those hot dogs were a hit, wirkuswhazz. Who knew drunk-o college kids were such weiner fans.
    2. I sure was skinny back in those days.

  6. The Old Man just walked through the office singing: “Beer and Bacon and Ponies and Kittens and Pretty Girls Kissin.”

  7. (Sing it like Julie Andrews)

    Frying some bacon and whiskers on kittens
    Bright neon beer signs and accents from Britons
    Brown paper packages tied up with strings
    These are a few of my favorite things

    Cream colored ponies and pretty girls kissing
    Lagers and porters and fighting cats hissing
    Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings
    These are a few of my favorite things

    Playing games on the ‘puter except when it crashes
    Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes
    Silver white winters that melt into springs
    These are a few of my favorite things

    When I go to work
    And the crazies call
    When I’m feeling mad
    I simply remember my favorite things
    And then I don’t feel like killing all of you!

    (Repeat all verses)

  8. The worst part of this job is when the old people call to complain, and the conversation ends with them crying and saying that they are 89 years old and all alone in the world.

    I need a burrito.

  9. I forgot chocolate and cupcakes… and more pretty girls kissing.

    Like in that football/beer comercial.

    Shit, I forgot football too. I need a longer song.

  10. So,’s great winner of the “Bush in 30 Seconds” contest was supposed to be played during the Super Bowl, but CBS declined the ad because they don’t run “issue ads” on their network.

    Check out the winning ad here:

    According to, however, CBS WILL be running 3 ads that could be defined as issue ads. From the article, “CBS actually plans to run three such ads during the Super Bowl — an anti-smoking spot, a public service announcement about AIDS, and a commercial from the White House Office of National Drug Control Policy.”

    However, the absolutely FUNNIEST part of the article is when they describe the other Super Bowl ad that was declined by CBS. It was created by a little organization named PETA. Watch this:

    “The rejected ad argues that eating meat causes impotence by clogging arteries. According to PETA, it “features a pair of scantily clad women who try to seduce the pizza man but discover that he can’t deliver ‘the sausage.’ Things pick up when they test the prowess of a vegetarian delivery boy.””

    Har har har. PETA, you’re so funny.

  11. ok so I think that the guy that’s fixing the drywall in our house is very lonely. He won’t leave me alone. He keeps following me around the house talking about fishing, working out, the marines, and drinking. I think I might try to get him shit-faced and then invite him over for the party at Judd’s tonight.

  12. that would be awesome GMC…we could do frogsplashes off judd’s 2nd floor & if we put a hole in the wall, your new friend could fix it for a 6 pack.

  13. scott…u r funnie…

    yo ghost, that would be funnie if u pulled that shit off and brought dude over herrr…”Unexpected Guest of the Year Award” fo sho…your first new friend in san hose….

    how cute!


  14. hi all, i lost my money in vegas as you can imagine. and also that first first was me but the second first was a faker cal*. happy MLK day tomorrow.

    Old Bold Claout

  15. BOOM. Bold Cal.

    1. Alona got back from a three week trip to Paris tonight. Her girlfriend, Tammy, and I got her balloons and rainbow leis (you know, a gay theme courtesy of yours truly) and cosmos as a “Welcome Home” party. Alona was pretty sick with a cold, so Tammy and I drank most of the cosmos, therefore I passed out at 9 p.m. and now it’s almost 4 a.m. and I’m WIDE awake. Alona had so many great stories that I’m nostalgic. I thought I would share:

    An Insider’s Guide to Understanding France
    by Jen H.
    -in list format

    A) If you are physically disabled, you can kiss a good time in France goodbye. Nothing anywhere is handicapped accessible. I wouldn’t wish France on a handicapped person even if they were my worst enemy (okay, that’s a lie; maybe I would wish France on a handicapped Anne Chernik). Everywhere there are stairs, usually narrow and dirty. That’s why you won’t see any handicapped people on the street in France, except for the really sad illegal immigrants who have no legs begging on the Metro who somehow have procured a skate board for their means of transportation. So much for the great European welfare system.

    B) Avoid political discussions with French people at all costs. Or – don’t. Whenever I made the mistake of talking politics with a French person they would try to win an argument by being condescending and patronizing. “You Americans are so stupid. Only you Americans would elect a moron like Bush. Americans are idiots and they are fat.” In this case, French people are making the safe bet that the American they are talking to will lie down and play dead, especially liberal ones. “Oh, you Frenchies are right. We Americans really are stupid. I hate George Bush. I love France. Please like me.”
    Fuck that. I would love for a French person to try that shit with me. I would give them a lesson they would not soon forget with two words: Front National. Stupid Americans? Try stupid French. Those fuckers almost elected Le Pen president a few years ago in the 2001 run off whose major platform to win votes was the brilliant idea to put all the illegal and legal immigrants to France in sealed containers and ship them back to their own countries. Le Pen’s slogan? France for the French – whatever the hell that is supposed to mean. Let’s just forget the two centuries of belligerent imperialism that has basically been either directly or indirectly related to every ethnic conflict since the Cold War. At least we can say the French never do anything halfway.
    And if that doesn’t work, you can always win a political argument with a French person using my favorite: “Well, maybe Americans really are fat and stupid, but let’s at least agree that if it weren’t for the Americans y’all would be speaking German right now.” That really makes ’em mad.

    C) Whatever you do, when a French person asks you what your favorite food is, don’t do the following scenario, a true story (in translation):
    Frederic (my French rollar blading Dungeons and Dragons role playing looked like Ricky Martin in a straight way ex-boyfriend): What iz your favorite food?
    Jen: Um, maybe Burger King whoppers.
    Jen: Um, well I kind of like Doritos.
    Frederic (losing his mind in the middle of the rue de Rivoli, a crowded French street): ARRGGHHHHH. YOU CANNOT BE SERIOUSLY TELLING ME ZHEES.
    Jen: Let’s make out.
    Frederic: OK. Ca va.

    D) And there you have it. To conclude, the whole time I was in Paris, I really had no clue what was going on. I mean, it was schizophrenic; one minute the French people would be belligerently rude and when you asked the bitch in the crowded bakery for a fucking baguette in French, she would answer in English, just to be fresh in front of all the other Frenchies. Then, you’d be in a cafe and this nice old grandma would serve you coffee and pastries, which you didn’t even ask for because you are fat from eating cheese and wine all goddamn day, and then not even accept your money.
    I love France, and partly because I hate it so much.

    2. Coming soon: Mexico City According to This Crazy Gringa.

  16. Nice cartoon. At the time, filling a piñata with 10,000 bits of chicle for the low, low price of .99 cents seemed like an unbeatable deal. Little did we know those 10,000 bits would be trampled and ground into the floor by the drunken masses. How late wisdom comes to us. Besides the pinata and the hotdogs, we also had a tiny trophy for “the most belligerent son of a bitch at the party.” Guess who won?

    1. Spent the weekend in Milwaukee with Bellgirl. All in all a very full weekend.
    Thr: Buck’s game, drunken bar hoppin’, afterbar w/ Parker.

    Fri: Hungover, laundry, lots of scrabble, fishfry with Kalishes.

    Sat: The Domes (aka the three glass titties), the MLK public library, more scrabble, drunken nintendo, Dinner and dancing at La Fuente, more bars, sleep.

    Sun: A dog show, football listening, Poker tourney at Timmers.

    2. Happy (belated) b-day Madd! Did caspa give you any of the jelly? Did the fit-it dude come to the party? Did the cleaning robot come come to the party? What?

    3. This week (my last of break) looks to be ok. Wed is my b-day and thr is a brewer party. Every year our hotel is the site for the Brewers off season promotional tour. It costs like 350$ to eat dinner and force some real brewers to hang out with you. Lucky for me, I always talk brewers with the dude in purchasing and he got two free tickets and since I’m the only person on earth who talks Brewers with him he invited me. Just like GMC, I have a new best friend.

    4. I would like to see a story detailing Cal’s special take on Las Vegas.

    Ummm… ok, whazz on.

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