Category Archives: Comedy

The End of a Long Written Road

Dear Readers,

My freshman year of high school, I was a timid little kid who had just began to realize how funny he is. I started writing “things that make me mad” in my AIM profile, and my friends suggested that I put up all these rants on some sort of website. So I created “bizzoony.com” in hopes of reaching people from across America, or even the world, and giving them the perspective I considered most important. I figure that if I even made one person laugh, I was doing my job. If out of the hundreds of articles I wrote, one joke made someone smile, giggle, or even scoff in shock, then I had affected their lives—even for a second.

What I discovered was that my website became a large part of younger kids lives. I would have daily readers, and I had to update things every week to keep people entertained. I would get IMs from people from Alaska, Missouri, and Pennsylvania telling me how funny they thought I was. Some of my posts would go around people’s profiles and my fame grew.

By my senior year I was being approached at parties by underclassmen. “Are you Boony?!” they would ask. “What?” I would drunkenly slur. People told me about how they followed instructions to bullshitting a high school essay and got an A.

Girls would show my website to their parents. They would leave me messages about how “funny my mom thinks you are,” or “how my dad couldn’t stop laughing about one thing you wrote.” It was weird. I had become a mini celebrity in the eyes of underclassmen and parents. In time I was being approached at parties by parents “Are you Boony?!” they would ask. “What?” I would drunkenly slur.

If nothing else, this website has kept me sane. It started as a way for me to vent my frustration, and turned into a way for me to share fun ideas, trends, and keep people into my social life of MADE, bad grades, and suspended captainship. Writing was my life, and sharing my ideas to the masses was the best part.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. As I am graduating high school, I feel that it is my duty to leave this website behind and move onto bigger better things. Lord knows I don’t want to become a 30-year-old Maddox writing on the same site for ten years, feeding his ego with each high school kid that shows him to his parents. Believe me, my ego is big enough.

My next journey? I’ve started a columnist position for this college website called pointsincase.com. Check it out, it’s really funny, and there are some amazing writers there who have also taken the next step from their pathetic little blogs. I even have business cards that I can pass out to people.

My point is basically that I’m done. Retired. Throwing in the towel. However you call it, I’ve started anew. My dream is to hopefully write for Rolling Stone, The Onion, or something else that appreciates writing with a twist of voice. Maybe I’ll become a writer. Maybe I’ll go into advertising so I can further reach out to the small kids that follow me.

I leave you with one last post. A tale I have been telling for a while, yet have never put in writing. It’s very close to my heart because I feel the symbolism in it is stronger than any book I’ve read. I think one day I’m going to write a short story in the perspective of the lighter in the story. Please do me the honor of reading the last and final post of bizzoony.com, and comment accordingly, no matter what you have to say.

Believe me when I say that it has been an amazing ride. It took thousands of papers, dozens of notebook filled with scribbles and stories that never got finished or published. One day I hope after a nuclear holocaust they find the notebooks in my desk drawer, and read the stupid things that spilled from the mind of a high schooler as he grew. And if you ever want to take a trip back in time and see the transition of my writings, feel free to go back and read it all over again.

Lastly, I have to thank you. Your comments and reaching out kept me going. At times I felt like a man with no audience, but then I would get a “hey man I loved that thing you wrote about Europe” and I would write again. You readers stuck with me through all my writing slumps, through all my experimental writing, and through all my stupidity. I thank you. Please enjoy this last post and understand it. It was an honor. See you when I’m famous.

-Boony

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Bridgin’ Da Gizzap

As a child, there is a growing concern that I can’t identify with adults. Each year, the elderly and youth of America become more polarized and, because of that, begin to think that the other group is trying to ruin the grounds of entertainment. Adults see the young lifestyle through propagated rap videos of drugs and disrespecting women, while the teenagers see the “olden days” through the memories of their grandfather getting drunk on the front porch with a cigar in one hand and their ballsack in the other.

Another thing that interferes with what I call “Generation Integration” is the large language barrier. Every day new phrases sweep the youth of America, making it harder for parents translate their kid’s words without a decoder ring. While the elders cling onto phrases like “blockhead” and “nincompoop,” children are littering their conversation with words like “off the heezy” and “mad props.” This vast difference in language has troubled both generations and made it impossible for them to interact.

Aside from this problem is the dilemma of different districts adopting separate slang words. Parents find themselves understanding slang words in one area only to understand that their decoder rings don’t work in the neighboring town. It is for this reason that I am translating all the urban sayings of my region. This will hopefully assist us in bridging the gap between not only town-differences as well as the division between generations. So without further ado, here is the breakdown of the slang in Arlington.

Mad (adj.)—Multiple; a lot. To a great extent, normally to the point of discomfort.
Example: “It’s mad hot outside.”
“There are mad cops out tonight.”

Head (noun)—A person. A head is a person who is at a party or gathering. Normally
Example: “This kid is the most random head.”

Skimp (adj.)— Lacking in quantity and/or quality. Displeasing to people. A scam. Normally used by kids when they are upset about a situation. Many teenagers express dissatisfaction with the phrase “yo mad skimp”
Example: “This is a skimp bag of chips.”

Straight (adj.)—Accepted; pleasing. The opposite of skimp.
Example: “Yeah man we’re straight.”
“That’s straight.”

Tuke (adj.)—An acronym for The Ugliest Kid Ever. Used to describe a person who is not good looking.
Example: “She is the tukest girl ever.”

Sauced (adj., verb)—Adj: intoxicated, mainly with alcohol. Verb: to drink
Example: “I was so sauced last night”
Example: Me and my friend were saucin’ it up last night.

Schemin’ (verb)—Hiding something from one’s peers. Planning something behind ones back. Associated with negative attributions of not being loyal.
Example: I didn’t notice it at first but he’s clearly schemin’.

Deez (adj.)— Derived from the word diesel. Showing power and strength.
Example: That kid is so deez.
Example: That was the most deez throw in the history of football

Phelpz (noun)—Weed. Derived from this picture.

I realize that there are many slang words from different towns (for example, I realize that in a neighboring town instead of “sauced” they use “shamboozled”) and I encourage you to share your own. That way, if I ever visit you to kill you, I will know the appropriate language to blend into the crowd. And if you have any questions, please ask. I will give you the straight answer after saucin’ mad phelpz and schemin’ about tuke heads.

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A National Apology

Attention citizens of America. This is you President, Barack Obama. I have assembled this press conference to address the events that I found out occurred last night. And while many leaders would sweep catastrophes like this under the rug and pretend they never happened, I feel it is my obligation to address the elephant in the room. Hillary Clinton, that is.

I’m sorry. I just want to apologize for the events that unfolded during the Presidential Party Friday night. I understand it was a time for Republicans, Democrats and the media to socialize and interact, but no one expected the punch to be quite so strong. I think we can all agree that things escalated a bit too quickly and no one is to blame. I just personally wanted to apologize for my actions.

I suppose I should apologize first for yelling. I don’t know who I specifically yelled at, but I was told later that there were many slur and inappropriate language used. I would like to personally apologize to Senator John McCain for my actions. I should have never sung “We Are The Champions” in your face, nor should I have continually referred to you as “Numero Dos” the entire night. I am also sorry for telling you to go back to the POW camp and for continually slapping your wife’s ass.

I next reach out to Hillary Clinton. Senator Clinton and I have maintained a good relationship throughout the 2008 electoral race, and I hope she took none of my comments to heart. I have talked to Senator Clinton personally and she said she disregarded the comments concerning her weight, attitude, and general revolting appearance. I would also like to publicly apologize for mentioning Monica Lewinski. I have the utmost respect for Hillary, and I hope out relationship has not been torn due to me calling her a “dirty monkey taint.”

I would next like to address the drinking games that unfolded throughout the night. I realize that the USA chant is a strong sign of patriotism in America, and using a chant like that during a keg stand is very unprofessional. Also, I realize that Vice President Biden and I were running mates and share strong political views, but that give us no right to name our beer pong team “The Salad Tossers”—regardless of how we excelled going 7 for 8 with two shutouts.

It was when gin and Hennessy was substituted for beer that the party truly escalated. I would like to apologize for taking my shirt off and hosting body shots for the entire House of Representatives, and in retrospect I should have never done that.

I would next like to apologize to Michael Steele for my actions. I had no right to flash gang signs and continually ask him where da hood at, nor did I have the authority to demand secret service to search him for narcotics.

Continuing, my heart goes out to the family of news reporter Nicholas Andron, who lost his life in last night’s escapades. It was wrong for me to suggest swimming in the White House pool, and it was equally wrong for me to become so competitive during the chicken fights. You can be guaranteed I will pay homage to all those affected by the loss of Nicholas, and from this point on skinny dipping on White House property will be considered treason.

Lastly, I apologize to you, America. It was an honor to be elected president of this great nation, and I am ashamed by abusing that privilege. When I awake the next morning next to my wife Michelle, Joe Biden, Bill Clinton, and some girl named “Candy,” I was ashamed of my actions. I hope that you can forgive me, and let me remind you how honored I am to be your president.

Thank you,
President Barack Obama

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Hey, Remember When . . .

Hey, remember when getting in trouble was okay because you were “just a kid”?
When boys will be boys and girls just wanted to have fun?
When female equality was accepted and not forced down your throat?
When calling a girl hot wasn’t sexual harassment?

Hey, remember when sports were fun?
When athletes were famous for records, and not syringes?
When young boys could remember players for their accomplishments instead of their gun charges?
When the numbers on the back of the baseball cards didn’t have asterisks next to them?

Hey, remember when flying was safe?
When being a pilot meant children idolized you, instead of you drinking and flying?
When every Arab man wasn’t a terrorist?
When we didn’t have to take our shoes off?

Hey, remember when the dollar was worth something?
When you could go to Europe and things were cheap?
When we could make fun of Canadian money?
When the word “trillion” was only used to describe the number of cells in your body?

Hey, remember when America didn’t suck?
When we were the land of the free and the home of the brave?
When we stopped World Wars and knocked down the Berlin wall?
When every country didn’t hate us?

Those were the days

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The Wikipedia-Hitler Game

In an attempt to find ways to kill time while grounded at my house, I asked around to see what my friends do to waste time. Reluctantly, most of them scrolled through Facebook photos, which I believe is formally known as stalking. Other claimed to search youtube, Google random stuff, or read a comedy website like bash.org. I tried most of these, but they quickly grew repetitive, and I needed a new game. That is when I discovered the most entertaining and offensive game to ever intrigue mankind.

I named the game “The Wikipedia-Hitler Game,” just so that when people hear it they become intrigued about their two favorite things: Wikipedia, where you can search and discover in any subject in the known universe; and Hitler, the man responsible for the death of 6 million people and World War II.

The game was introduced to me by my friend Kyle “Murder” Murphy, who is fascinated in Hitler. Not because of his supreme dominance over Eastern Europe and ability to raise a crumbling nation from the ashes, but because Hitler was a raging prick. Even better, the game is extremely basic, with few rules and an even

Its like a game of Wheres Waldo, only he has a goofy moustache

It's like a game of Where's Waldo, only he has a goofy moustache

Go to Wikipedia’s homepage. On the far left they give you the option of “Random Article.” Click that link and it will bring you—literally—the most random article on Wikipedia. My first two clicks brought me to “Blue Creek, Utah” and “Castel Film Romania.”

The point of The Wikipedia-Hitler Game is to use as few link-clicks as possible from your random article to be brought to Adolf Hitler’s Wikipedia page. Kyle Murphy has the record of 2 clicks, going from Alexander Lukashenko to Dictatorship to Adolf. I have used an average of four clicks, with one time needing six or seven. The game is buckets of fun, and more challenging every time you do it.

A few links to look out for:

• April 20—Hitler’s Birthday
• Any date between 1939-1945
• World War II
• Any European country better prize than any stupid Olympic Gold Metal. The game?

One rule I urge you not to do: Do not use the Ctrl+F function to search for key phrases. That’s like cheating in a game of solitaire; you’re the only one who loses. Look for the phrases by eye, it makes you more intone to the search and also guarantees tunnel vision by the age of 25.

Please feel free to play this game between youtubing “Step Brothers Sweet Child Of Mine” and scrolling through that cute girl’s Facebook pictures. I know you will have fun.

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If The Twilight Series Was Written By A Dude

Chapter One: First Sight

Bella exits the baggage claim of Washington to and hesitantly waves to her father standing behind the gate. His smile engulfs his face, each cheek fighting for space against his gap-toothed smile. “Here we go,” Bella rolls her eyes.

Suddenly, a shattering of glass spurs screams across the terminal. A crowd falls to the ground as a vampire leaps across the station, tackling Bell to the ground. Her father’s shock is over swept by chaos, and a stampede to exit the area drags him away from saving his daughter. The vampire’s light brown hair and marble skin glisten in the sunlight. Bella looks up to stare into the golden eyes of her attacker, his impossibly beautiful features staring at her as she is wrestled to the ground.

Within a flash, seven more vampires explode through the doors, bursting by security and surrounding Bella. The first vampire bears his fangs and bites Bella’s neck. The piercing pain triggers a scream from Bella, but she finds herself quickly paralyzed in fear. One by one, the vampires rip her limbs off, chewing on them with ferocious savageness. Bella feels the darkness seep into her mind, her eyes slowly closing and death erasing the pain.

One of the vampires rips through Bella’s stomach, blood squirting all over the cannibals. He rips out the liver, and gorges into it. His family shuffles through the inner organs, tossing aside what appears to be a baby. From the fleeing crowd appears a werewolf, his four claws digging into the tile floor and his snarling mouth dripping saliva. He rushes to the fetus, licking the blood from its unborn head before taking a bite from its body. The unformed innards of the infant ooze onto the waxed floor.

THE END

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Similie Toast Crunch

This is the greatest cereal I’ve ever eaten. It’s crunchy yet smooth; bitter yet sweet. This cereal is like the Civil Rights movement poured into a bowl. If you took every Dragon Force song and added milk, it would be this cereal. Chewing it feels like the scene in King Kong where he battles the T-Rex is unfolding in my mouth. Mmm and it goes down so smooth, I don’t even need a sip of orange juice. It’s as if there’s a massive Water Country water slide in my mouth and every cornflake is in line to descend.

Is this even American cereal? Surely something like this can’t be purchased in Stop & Shop. This cereal must have floated here on a door from Cuba. The combination of sugar and oats is too delicate to be from the U.S. Eating it feels like every fight scene from Rocky is transpiring on my tongue. It’s as if every Chuck Norris joke was packed into a breakfast cereal.

This cereal is to breakfast what Doogie Houser was to medicine.

My lips are tingling. Someone definitely sprinkled cocaine on this. Eating this cereal is like the scene from Scarface when Al Pacino collapses into a mountain of coke. I can feel my muscles growing with every bite. It’s as if every motivational speech from every sports movie is being read through a microphone down my throat. I can feel the words from Denzel Washington in Remember The Titans echoing down my larynx with every bite! This cereal should be nominated for an Oscar.

How is this cereal even legal? This shit should be sold on the street by a creepy guy named Travis. I feel like I just broke the law by paying such a little amount for this gold. Eating from this bowl is like “The Play” of 1982 college football game where University of California returned a last second kickoff to beat Stanford University. Oh, THE BAND IS OUT ON THE FIELD!! He’s gonna go into the end zone! He’s gone into the end zone!! The most amazing, sensational, dramatic, heart-rending… exciting, thrilling finish in the history of breakfast cereal!

This cereal is to breakfast what Babe Ruth was to baseball.

I can’t even think of an adjective to describe the taste of this breakfast beauty. It’s like someone compiled every funny video of someone getting hit in the balls and made it chewable and delicious. They’re going to need to invent a new part-of-speech for this cereal. Some sort of hybrid adjective that will properly illustrate the taste of Brian Urlacher sacking Peyton Manning on the tip of my tongue. If the inspiration unleashed from the song “More Than A Feeling” could be incarnated into a taste, it would be the taste of this cereal.

I think I’m hallucinating. This cereal is so good it’s distorting my perspective on life. I am no longer a lonely accountant working a crappy 9-5. I am a super hero, fighting crime in the depths of the night; injecting fear in the soles of felons. This cereal has given me the magical power to levitate. It’s like that scene in Unbreakable where Bruce Willis realizes he’s invincible—only instead of surviving a train wreck I took a bite of cereal

I just got goosebumps. This cereal is pumping through my veins, strengthening my muscles and fortifying my vigor. I feel amazing. It’s as if I just broke into a hospital nursery and decapitated all the newborn infants as their parents watched in horror. My heart is racing. It’s like every blowjob I’ve ever gotten has returned to quake my body with pleasure. This cereal has changed my life.

Oh God I’m light-headed. Swallowing this cereal is like swimming in a pool of jello. It’s like standing right next to the speaker during a Metallica concert. I can’t stop smiling! It’s as if every episode of Friends is compiled into my brain! This cereal is to breakfast what the centerfold is to Playboy.

I wonder what the prize inside is. It’s almost certainly something mythical and legendary—like a unicorn or Magic Johnson. If the cereal is this good the toy must be a work of art. It’s probably Megatron. Maybe it’s the meteor that killed the dinosaurs. The prize in this box is what Tony Hawk was to the X-Games.

I can’t believe it’s over. I ate the whole box. It felt like I was being bombarded by dodge balls made of cotton candy. It was like I just sat through an episode of MacGyver. It’s like I just devoured a rainbow. I don’t think there is any other activity in the known universe that could possible satisfy my as much as that bowl of cereal just did. I think it is completely debatable that the breakfast I just consumed created life on Earth.

That cereal was God.

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