Accidentally pouring Orange Juice into Cereal

One of the superimportant staffers made a huge fuckup in preparing my dinner one day last week. It was a delicate cereal dinner that I had been thinking about all day long. I had even stopped at the grocery store on the way home to pick up whatever was on sale next to the pop-tarts. This was going to be superb. But the goddamn idiot grabbed the orange juice instead of the milk and just started POURING AWAY! Luckily I was there to catch (and promptly fire) him...or her...can't remember...before an entire bowl of cereal AND god knows how much orange juice was wasted. Things don't come cheap around the superimportant office, and we can't afford to waste anything. We're providing a public service to you, and we're doing it ad-free. There isn't any revenue coming in from bringing you everything you need to know, you know. Most of our limited funds are spent on whiskey, red meat, sparks, beer, cable internet, laundry, bribes, medical supplies, bike stuff, stock photo fees, NYPD payoffs, hookers, and film development for the darkroom. Not to mention the Panama Jack hat collection. Those things are rare. We can't afford to waste any of our orange juice OR cereal.

It was a tense few days at the office, but eventually my rage subsided, and I decided just to have that dinner, even though it was tainted by orange juice. I discovered....that it was pretty damn good, actually. It makes sense, really. Like adding orange zest to your cupcakes or other baking projects. A splash of OJ really added some great flavor to my dinner. So, next time you're half drunk or mostly asleep and groggily grab whatever's closest to you in your fridge without looking, because it's such a force of habit these days and you spend most of your waking life in a dazed state of semi-consciousness and barely know what you're really doing just as long as your doing *something*, don't worry if the OJ gets on your Honey Bunches of Oats. It'll be good. Or uh, you know, if your employee does that or something.

A Superimportant Hiatus

Many of my faithful readers have pointed out the lack of superimportance as of late. The only explanation is that it is a slow season for superimportance. Our staff has been bored out of their skulls playing online video games and scouring youtube for videos of car wrecks and gore. For all of you humanitarians out there, rest assured that they are still recieving their nickel-a-day salary, in spite of the fact that the lazy fucks haven't been able to dredge up even a paragraph of superimportance. We're not draconian savages here, even if all we eat is red meat and drink nothing but whiskey & sparks. Our employees deserve a decent wage. And we will continue to supply them with that wage, unless they decide that they want to go back to elementary school this fall instead of continuing to work for us.

For now, expect more superimportant things to be reported on. The summer is slowly coming to a close, and I'm feeling confident that maybe I'll get laid again soon, so I'll be in a better mood to make up this bullshit.

Red Meat & Whiskey diet

Having just thrown a barbecue with no provisions for the vegetable-only eaters, I found myself with a delightful surplus of food that at one point, lived. Oh, there's nothing better than eating things that used to eat things. The barbecue had a grand spread of giant freakin' handmade burgers seasoned with Basil, Rosemary, Garlic, Westchester Sauce, salt & pepper, and a little bit of lemon; chunks of a flank steak marinated overnight in a incredible spice mix I've been using all summer; Chicken Legs with fresh Dill, Rosemary, Thyme and Lemon; and other chunks of steak marinated with the same spice rub mentioned above (plus Anise. Yeah. Anise. Like black licorice. It's my secret ingredient. Ended up pretty good too. You should try it one day). The latter chunks of steak were set aside for shish-kabobs in combination with fucking vegetables, but other than that, it was all red meat. Exept for the chicken, of course, which only the girls ate.

I had a few leftovers from the carnage. Not much, but enough to keep me eating like a goddamn MAN for a day or two. I've had three burgers in the past two days, and maybe a pound or two of steak. I ate one whole steak for dinner myself tonight. And you know what? I didn't have anything else. Yeah. Just steak. Bloody steak. Juicy and red. And I had a glass of whiskey, too. That's all i've been drinking. Whiskey and animal blood. And then I called up all the girls I know who have really big tits, and we made love for hours. Loudly. For HOURS. The neighbors, they complained, but I pushed them down the stairs and made their children cry. Then I made love to their wives. They'll know better for next time.

I put some football games on, took my shirt off, and turned on my remote controlled air-conditioner. I belched so loud the walls shook. My meat & whiskey diet has got hair growing on my legs faster than I can shave it off. I shave it off with a rusty, broken razor. Occassionally I have some beer with my whiskey and red meat. I've got so much testosterone the next day, I ride 38mph up the Manhattan Bridge on the way to work. Then I punch out a cop, piss in his gas tank, and pants him. The NYPD knows that there isn't anything it can do about me.

Whiskey is great

If anyone in Chicago finds my underwear on the shore of lake Michigan, let me know. I lost them there. Your lake is great when you're naked, drunk, and have been wandering around in 98 degree heat all weekend, by the way.