Shitty Reviews

A Parody of Reality

Hunting

The art of hunting has been around for as long as there have been small, helpless creatures to kill in brutal and hilarious ways. Scientists like to set the date around the same time Shitty Reviewer was cursing the wind and fucking Natalie Portman. It has been estimated that over 6 billion people engage in this wonderful and clearly adrenaline pumping sport. There are a few different types of hunting, bear hunting, squirrel hunting, deer hunting, witch hunting, human hunting, whale hunting, tail hunting, bird hunting, deer hunting, bear hunting, witch hunting, human hunting, Nazi hunting. Mostly just a few vindictive jews engage in the delightful sport of Nazi hunting, although witch hunting is still the most common form… especially in Africa.

Fuck you, Africa.

Fuck you, Africa.

African witch hunting is based on the old but reliable belief  “if we can’t understand it, it’s probably a witch” that dates back to some time before humanity first crawled out of the primal ooze that is my jizz. Or for the rest of you, some 6 thousand years ago. Fossils prove nothing.

The most preferred method of witch eradication is the use of sharpened blades, more commonly known as machetes. Or whatever is handy really, remember it is Africa. But hey, relax, before you crawl out of your hut, brush the sand from your balls, and go on a machete swinging massacre you’ve got to learn how to recognize a witch. To best identify a witch you should look at their features, firstly, do they look differently than me? Secondly, if they talk (nag)a lot, refuse to cook you dinner, or dare to mouth back they are probably a witch. Third and most importantly, if they refuse to date you and/or cook tasty pies. If you answered yes to any of the above, you’re probably a witch and we will be seeing you soon.

Probably a witch.

Probably a witch.

As you can see she conforms to several of our criteria set forth above. The man stew she happens to be feasting on is just a bonus. Of late witch hunting has produced some brutal, limb severing killings in Africa. The New York Times tells us that Africa has not seen such a display of inhumane and machete wielding cruelty since… some time last week or something. Let’s face it Africa is a pretty shitty place to live. If you can add 2 and 2 you’re probably going to be burnt at the stake, partly for being a witch but mostly because you’re among the top 10 smartest people in that filth-ridden shit hole. Africans believe the witch in question must be hacked into either 12, or 14 pieces before questioning and accusations can begin.

This works too.

This works too.

But another form of hunting also exists, the “art” of deer hunting, in which hardcore rednecks  seek to increase their pitiful self-esteem by killing and maiming small, helpless, defense-less critters. Bitter? Hardly, I’m just of the opinion that this sport needs to be livened up a bit, provide a better challenge to the “hunters”. What fun is there in shooting something that’s running away.. well maybe the Germans enjoyed it, but still. Deer look pretty sweet, and they help with natural selection by standing in the middle of roads, at night,  in a ball shattering display of “I fucking dare you to hit me” manliness.

Go ahead, do it. I fucking dare you.

Go ahead, do it. I fucking dare you.

I just can’t find fun in shooting the poor things, especially with guns. Do they get off on it? Is there a sexual thrill in killing something that cannot defend itself unless its 3 inches away from you, tearing your stomach open with its antlers and painting the ground with your intestines. What about bear hunting? I propose all self proclaimed hunters must first get into a UFC style cage match with a bear, nothing but the weapons nature gave you. If you can walk away alive you’ve earned the right to hunt lesser creatures, as well as cup the breasts of Selma Hayek. Otherwise, be prepared for a few fanatics from PETA to unleash their ultimate weapon to combat the growing hunter problem.

deer

Something like this.

-The Bitter Pillsner

“Fuck you, I’m this drunk”

3/5 dead Bambi

March 26, 2009 Posted by | Pillsner | Leave a comment

Wind

Wind is Mother Nature’s fuck you to poor people. Alongside poverty.

Raise your hand if you're poor!

Raise your hand if you're poor!

Surprisingly, however, wind is a very misunderstood act of nature. Wind is the flow of air and gases in the atmosphere – or in other words, air molecules moving amongst themselves. How does that make it misunderstood, though? I can explain that in a single word: fucked. That is everything and nothing that you are when wind rapes your body from every direction.

Let’s consider the positives first: wind is one of the most powerful forces on Earth, and it utilizes its power to annihilate everything in its path. Once upon a time there was no wind. You wouldn’t remember these years, mostly because you suck. I was there. Man, you should have seen it. Back before Jesus screwed us all to burn in eternal Hellfire by totally getting himself killed on the behalf of people that didn’t even ask for it the world was calm and stable. Water didn’t move. It didn’t have to. There was no water. We drank air. I actually still drink air. You can piss a lot more discreetly when you’re just pissing out stinky air. It’s like I’m farting from my dick.

Slightly less sexy than air escaping my testicle tent.

Slightly less sexy than air escaping my testicle tent.

During these early years, I destroyed empires using the leg bone from an impressively large specimen of dinosaur, Oprahsaurus, and I shit all over wherever I wanted to. There is nothing more demeaning towards ants than shitting on their hills. It takes thousands of them to lift a healthy shit log, and all you’ve gotta do is drop another one right on top in the middle of the migration, and blam, super pile of shit coated in thousands of writhing, foul-smelling ants. Excellent.

The original wind was caused by an earthquake – the one that actually killed the dinosaurs. While the Big Bang Theory seems sound enough, it was actually the Big Ass Earthquake that did it. The earthquake was caused by tectonic plates crashing together in the modern day Atlantic Ocean region. The force was so incredibly powerful that water was moved for the first time (all of the other earthquakes up to that point were pussies), and the sudden friction in the water caused the temperature to rise slightly. This rise in temperature caused air bubbles to form and lift, and once the gas escaped into the air, we were fucked forever.

I remember the first time wind ever pressed against my nubile, gorgeous features. I burst into tears at the feeling and carved poetry into my wrists for forty days and forty nights. At the end of these nights, my weeping became so intense that God appeared before me. After I had sex with Natalie Portman, Matt Damon agreed that wind had to stay forever. While distraught, I kept a strand of His hair. All is well. I am manlier for it, and have never cried since.

Wind is tricky, like a hobbit.

I fucking hate trixy Hobbits.

I fucking hate trixy Hobbits.

Regardless, it has done some very good things for us. For example:

  • Lifted Marilyn Monroe’s dress.
  • Moves cigarette smoke into the nostrils of hippies.
  • Blows off trucker hats.
  • Kills babies.

There are plenty more things I could talk about, but wind would kick my ass if I kept giving away all of its secrets. So, let’s switch to the negative of wind. Wind is a fucking dick. It hates anything that is wider than a chain-link fence pole or thinner than existence. Wind brings cold air. Cold air is a douchebag, the cousin of wind, that shows up every few weeks to shrink my hairless, botoxed nuts into obscurity.

Cold originated in Scandinavia, which is bad ass, but instead of carrying some wench-raping Vikings to plunder our ilk, it came alone, with birds and shit. Fuck that and fuck birds.

Cold, you fucking douchebag.

Cold, you are a fucking douchebag.

Instead of teaching us the ways of wearing animal skins, it forced us to wear animal skins. I don’t want to fucking wear animal skins. I like animals (except for birds, but I don’t think they have skin). So there I am in the first century, dealing with cold, wearing a moose I killed with my cock, holding on to my nuts and cursing wind for what it has brought me by being related to a douchebag. But wind and I have sort of an accord with each other now.

In 1973, O.J. Simpson became the first pro-football player to ever rush 2000 yards in a pro-football season. You know why? Wind. I asked wind to do it. Why would I ever ask wind to do that? You see, O.J. sold his soul to me for that record, and when I came to collect, he backed out like a big, memorabilia-stealing pussy. Welcome to court, you son of a bitch.

He won that one. Fucking Johnny Cochran. Lost the next one, though. HAH. GOTCHA, YOU BALL-CODDLING ASSHOLE NUZZLER.

Suck it.

Suck it.

Don’t back out on a deal with me, or I will frame you for murder. If the glove don’t fit, you’re a piece of talentless shit.

I was drinking some beers with Pillsner last night, and wind showed up in the bar. I immediately became pissed off, because between you and me, wind owes me six thousand and eighty-four dollars, but I was cordial enough. I was like “sup, you money-thieving cunt?” and wind was like “oh, hey, how’s it going man?” So I went to wind’s house and fucked his wife. I took a shower when I was done, and guess what? Dry in six seconds flat. Fuck yeah, how’s that for a blowjob?

The Japanese have a word, Kamikaze, that roughly translates into “divine wind.” They believe that wind is a gift from God, but I ask Matt Damon for shit all the time and all he’s given me is a restraining order, not a natural force of power that can create tsunamis, crush mountains, and roll rocks in front of skateboard wheels at the park. In Norse mythology, Njord is the God of Wind. Fucking Njord, the biggest bad ass since the title character of Bullets, Blood, and a Fistful of Cash, is the God of Wind. That’s insulting to mythology, and more so, insulting to Njord. He should be the God of Killing Everything, because that’s what he fucking does.

I was just looking at wikipedia to find some more random facts about wind, but I don’t understand what the fuck these people are talking about. Solar winds, cyclones, baroclinicty, etc etc. Baroclinicity? Chris Brown has a better grasp of reality than these people. There are only a few words that should ever be correlated with wind: fucked, dickhead, bitchass, annihilator, Trogdor, and superassrammerstraightfrommattdamonsingloriousballoonknot.

As I’ve said, I’m not someone who gives ratings, but I think that wind deserves one. We’ll go with a rating of old people falling down in terms of how awesome it is: I say seven old people falling down and breaking necessary bones out of ten. Surprised? Seven out of ten, and all I’ve done is shit in wind’s cereal?

The simple fact is that wind is the perfect asshole of the natural world. It can do whatever the fuck it wants, and you can’t do anything back to it. Have you seen that commercial where the kid traps wind in a jar and takes it home to his old ass grandfather’s birthday party, and the wind breaks free, blows the cake everywhere, and slaughters the family before devouring their souls?

"His father tasted like gold (must've been Jewish)" -Wind

"His father tasted like gold (must've been Jewish)." -Wind

Seven out of ten. Wind crushes lives. Like Vikings. You know, I erred a bit earlier, when I said that wind allowed cold to not bring us Vikings. Vikings and wind are like peanut butter and tattoos, but Vikings think cold can suck a fat goat cock. Have you ever seen a Viking? They don’t feel cold. They swim in glaciers, nude, floating around on their gigantic porpoise dicks, telling cold to go fuck its mother. It does it, too. You do what a Viking tells you to do.

Wind rules.

March 26, 2009 Posted by | Shitty Reviewer | Leave a comment