Joe Scheduled for Tea Bagging

Conservatives are turning Joe the Plumber on Speaker Joe Hackney and the House Democrats.

Joe Wurzelbacher, the Ohio plumber who became an anti-tax symbol during last year's presidential campaign, will speak at a "tea party" rally June 3. The rally is being sponsored by Americans for Prosperity, a Raleigh-based conservative group, at 4:30 p.m. on Halifax Mall in the state government complex. Organizers say the purpose is to persuade members of the state House not to raise taxes as part of the budget plan it is now putting together.

more at source: http://www.newsobserver.com/news/story/1531611.html

Toilet snake attack: urban legend comes true?

TAIPEI (Reuters) - A Taiwanese man became a sitting target for a snake, which bit his penis as sat on the toilet at his rural home, local media reported on Monday.

"As soon as he sat down, he suddenly felt a knife-like pain and reacted instinctively by standing up," the China Times said. "When he looked down, he saw the big snake."

The 51-year-old man, from Nantou County, was under medical care with minor injuries, a director at Puli Christian Hospital said.

"As soon as he has passed the risk of infection, he can go," the director, who declined to be named, said. "A snake's mouth isn't always clean."

Local television images showed the black and yellow reptile, reportedly a species of rat snake, being uncoiled and plucked slowly from the toilet bowl.

Snakes regularly enter rural homes in Taiwan and other sub-tropical regions of Asia.

(Reporting by Ralph Jennings; Editing by Nick Macfie and Miral Fahmy)

NEW SEGMENT: The BOOSH Discussion Panel

Here ye here ye! The first convention of the Boosh Discussion Panel is now in session. Please take your seats as this new segment will commence shortly. The BOOSH Discussion Panel will be a weekly event in which one BOOSHologist will pose a question relating to something of interest in the world and we will have a formal posting of arguments from our other BOOSHologists. Eventually we will open the floor up to our faithful following (that being all of you!!) to answer lifes most difficult questions. Populate your questions now and we will begin this week with our first question! See us at http://www.thebooshinternational.freeforums.org/

NEW SEGMENT: Joe the Plumber Watch

Ladies and Gentlemen, today we unveil the latest and greatest from the BOOSH Research and Development Labs. THE JOE THE PLUMBER WATCH. If you remember back to the early days of the Boosh International, we posted an editorial about Joe and his forays into Politics and Sociology. Well, we have noticed that slowly, and undercurrent of Joe The Plumber references in the news has risen in the past few months. Alarmed that this could jeopardize your rights as Americans and the very fabric of this nation we love, we at the Boosh have decided to create a watch center....staffed with dozens of the nations top analysts and political strategists, we will work in 24 hour 7 day a week shifts to bring you the most up-to-date reporting on the activities of Joe The Plumber so you and your children can rest easy. The steadfast dedication of The Boosh International will keep you in the know and safe from all harm. Look for our first reports soon!

Survival++: The Swine Flu

In the 14th Century the Black Plague claimed between 75 and 200 million lives. Though disputed this number would translate into roughly 50% of the European population.

In the 16th Century almost the entire Inca empire was eradicated by smallpox as a result of the Spanish Conquest of the New World.

The Third Pandemic, started in China in the middle of the 19th century, spreading plague to all inhabited continents and killing 10 million people in India alone. During this pandemic, the United States saw its first case of plague in 1900 in San Francisco.

Today, The Swine flu, also known as H1N1 has claimed the lives of 3 Americans as of May 10th. These deaths were attributed to the lack of medical attention to the flu virus. MY GOD PEOPLE IT MUST BE JUDGMENT DAY!!!!!!!!

For several weeks now the major news organizations have completely ignored ongoing global and economic woes to maintain a tight watch on the ever growing Swine "pandemic". Because we care, The Boosh International is here to give you some much needed advice on how to weather this apocalyptic outbreak.

In order to understand how to survive we must first learn the symptoms of the killer N1H1, they are as follow:

-Body aches, especially joints and throat
-Mild coldness and fever
-Fatigue
-Headache
-Irritated watering eyes
-Reddened eyes, skin (especially face), mouth, throat and nose
-Mild Vomiting and diarrhea

Compare that to the Black Plagues wimpy symptoms that included but were not limited to (BY ANY MEANS), intense high fever, vomiting of feces, and bloody exposed boils that burst with sewage-smelling puss as your nervous system shut down, we would have been so lucky to live in 14th Century Europe.

The first thing you need to do in preparation to survive is buy a good box of Kleenex. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD GET THEM WITH ALOE!!!! Seriously, if you go the bargain route and by the 95 cent boxes of tissues from your local bulk goods store you will pay with a red, chaffed,horribly unattractive nose caused by the sandpaper quality of the tissue! Also, hot tea is a must, preferably the kind you buy at a specialty store that is organic, contains herbs from a country that has had at least 2 social revolutions, and comes in a recyclable box. You must pay top dollar for this tea but hey, you want to LIVE!! Taking Zinc supplements is also advisable but more important than any of the above it this, and pay attention, this could be the difference between life and death.....are you ready?????


you sure????

PRACTICE BASIC HYGIENE! Wash your hands before you eat and after you go to the bathroom. Cover your mouth when you cough and sneeze. And for Christs bloody sake dont double dip at the dinner party!!

Now you can prepare all you want and still catch this deadly hog killer. If you should be so unfortunate be prepared to fight an uphill battle of mild discomfort, reasonably high temperatures, a soar throat that isn't that different from when you were in grade school, and possibly mild vomiting and dry heaving. This torment could last up to a week with treatment. Oh and treatment is getting your ass in your car and going to the doctor for an antibiotic prescription.

All I can say is pray and stay safe. Turn on CNN, FOX NEWS, MSNBC, LOU DOBBS, ANDERSON 360, WOLF BLITZER'S SITUATION ROOM, THE GLENN BECK SHOW, HANNITY, BBC, AL JAZEERA, REUTERS, OR ANY OTHER for details and updates. God speed fellow Booshers. Make your peace now, for tomorrow we all may be......on our couch watching re-runs of Family Guy and eating chicken soup......

Chai T

Vintage Boosh 10

What Grinds My Gears: Diagonal Walkers

I don't mind sharing pavement with pedestrians. It is totally understandable that, sometimes, a person needs to get to the other side of a street, I've done it a few times myself. I will follow MY end of the bargain and not run you over if you follow YOURS and get out of my way as quickly as possible, because let's face it... I am graciously sharing the road, a place where you have no business being. As you make your way across the street, my anger increases exponentially, as depicted in Figure 1.

Figure 1: Get Out of My Way vs. Pissed Off-ness

Notice that around 3.5 "Murderous Tendancy Units" we reach the "Action Threshold" and cross into the "Rectangle of Hospitalization." This is the point where I may get a crazy spasm in my legs and arms causing me to accidently push the clutch, shift into first and floor it! Even the elderly usually make it across the street clear of the threshold.

On to the inconsiderate dicks... FIRST OF ALL, if you are crossing diagonally, you are not in your designated crosswalk. I DO NOT LIKE TO SHARE MY PART OF THE ROAD WITH YOU!!!! Stay in your designated five-foot-wide space. Congrats, you have already pissed me off and lowered the Action Threshold. I'll spare you the mathematics, but if we look in Figure 2, forty-five degrees of inconsiderate behavior, in conjunction with the out-of-crosswalk shenanigans, puts the average pedestrian comfortably into the Rectangle of Hospitalization.

Figure 2: Diagonal Walking

Whether it's the "Greasy-haired White Trash," the "Middle-aged Spoiled Trophy Wife," or even the "Whateva-I-Do-What-I-Want Teeny Boppers" remember, you are borrowing MY road... and if you Grind my Gears by walking diagonally, you are gambling with your worthless life!

What Grinds My Gears?

The Interrupter One Upper.

I truly believe there are only two things that will ever potentially motivate human beings to lay aside their differences and unite under the same banner. Scenario 1: A massive Alien invasion that will wipe out 90% of life on Earth before the rest of us pull our collective heads out of our asses just in time to discover that the invaders' secret weakness is water. Scenario 2: The mutual and passionate hatred we all share for the interrupter one upper. We human beings may never be able to surpass the differences caused by religion, politics, race etc., but the hatred for the Interrupter One Upper is so bloody uniform that it could probably added to the list of 'things that make humans human' right below opposable thumbs. The reason this hatred is so uniform is because we all know someone who falls into this category of dreg. Some of us know two or more. You may even BE ONE yourself and not realize it. Repent, for the kingdom is effing nigh.

We all know the scenario. Yer lounging around, involved in a pleasant altho not necessarily important conversation with a friend, acquaintence, or co-worker, minding yer own business when BAM! Seemingly out of thin air, like some sort of stealthy annoying ninja, the interrupter one upper appears, makes a comment that makes whatever you just said seem totally lame by comparison, and then once again vanishes before you've recovered enough to tell him what a dill hole he is. The list of people and things that make you feel like a bigger douchebag than IOU is a painfully short one indeed. Personally, theres little that can so thouroughly and effectively ruin my day. Maybe yer fortunate enough to be able to block out the memory of the last time you were personally exposed to this kind of jackassery. Just so you know, im about to ruin that.

Ex1

You: "Wow, I got front row tickets to the big concert!"

IOU: "Ive got backstage passes."

Ex2

You: "I hear we're supposed to get more snow this weekend."

IOU: "I hear we're supposed to have a massive ice storm tonight."

Ex3

You: "I had sushi for dinner last night. It was delicious."

IOU: "Last night I nailed my girlfriend and her hot room mate at the same time. It was amazing."

Ex4

You: "My dog died yesterday."

IOU: "My wife had her legs amputated yesterday."

Incon-f*cking-ceivable! And yet it happens. Constantly. And sadly the only way to make it clear to IOU that his/her inane and unwelcomed commentary is intolerable is a straight shot to the baby maker. But you cant do it can you? Why? Because like Orcs or Vampires, all IOU's have a few characteristics that make them invulnerable to the hammer of justice. Its always someone you know, but only vaguely. The guy that works in the cubicle across the hall, the girl who has the same third period stats class with you, a friend of a friend....and the majority of the times you encounter this person...he's actually pretty chill. Alway says hi in the hallway, asks you how yer significant other is doing, even buys you a shot or two when ye run into him at the bar. All as if saving up capital for the next time he strikes to ruin yer day.You may ask, "But doesnt the fact that this person is nice most of the time excuse the fact that he can, at times, be annoying?"No. Absolutely not. And i'll tell you why.You dont see him enough for it to matter. Again, this is someone you know only vaguely and see only a few times a month. thus making the one or two times a month he's a douche stand out in yer mind like a hair lip on a runway model. And like said hair lip, it will haunt yer very dreams. The decent individual with any sense of the importance of day to day politness would realize that this is not enough familiarity to justify butting into an obvious A-B conversation. This "obvious" fact seems to elude the IOU, meaning that he is either a dumbass, or an alien pod-person esque spy sent to observe human beings in preparation for that massive alien invasion i talked about in paragraph one (thats right, its all connected).

Sadly, i fear that hes just a dumbass. Just in case however, next time i encounter IOU i plan on throwing a glass of water in his/her/its face just to make sure it isnt an alien pod person (because as M. Night Shala-whats-his-face taught us, its reasonable for an Alien race who are so intelligent they have mastered inter-galactic travel are naive enough to invade a planet whos surface is 75% covered by a thing they are deathly allergic to). If it turns out that this person is not a pod person, i will simply have to regroup and formulate a new plan, which will probably involve a hefty dose of the Long Knuckle.

Cheers, Selah.

Survival++: Africanized Honey Bees

Focus, people...FOCUS! Bees are like liquid, living death. A swarm can infiltrate closed doors and nasal passages. Most bee species will turn around upon reaching a solid object, but not the Africanized Honey Bee. This species' alarm radius is much larger than European Honey Bees and they will pursue an intruder for unnecessary distances, with way more attack drones than European Bees. In short...they're like the Mongols...but insects.

A bee is literally an army of one. The hive has a sort of collective consciousness. They move together, work together...and ATTACK TOGETHER! If you kill an africanized honeybee, or if you are stung by one, it releases a pheromone saying, "Hive, AVENGE MY DEATH!!!!!!" And avenge, they will...

The "Alarm Pheromone"

Run...for God's sake, run! pick a direction away from the hive. If you don't know where it is, guess. Avoid trees, small wooden structures, and loud humming. Bees fly faster than you can run, but if you are lucky, you can outrun the pheromone's diffusion speed. When I say run, I effing mean it! Africanized honey bees WILL CHASE YOU UP TO 3 MILES! While you're running, pull out the stinger and try like holy hell to rid yourself of the pheromones.

Your best bet is to find a motor vehicle. If there are none around, look for shelter. If it's not air-tight, don't even bother, remember..."liquid, living death." They'll pour through cracks. PAY ATTENTION TO MY NEXT WORDS CAREFULLY! Don't. Take. Cover. In. Water. Africanized honey bees, unlike their un-africanized brethren, WILL WAIT FOR YOU TO SURFACE FOR AIR, then destroy you. Even if you, for some reason, have scuba gear, avoid water. Once alarmed, the bees will remain so for up to 24 hours.

So here it is...the showdown. You've been running for 25 minutes and God is no longer ammused by your prayers. You hear the swarm behind you...

...At this point, grab your smoke grenades! Smoke disrupts the bees' pheromone receptors. Deploy and keep running, this time head for a car wash. Soapy water kills bees. Unfortunately, science has not yet provided us with a practical "soapy water launcher."

Remember, preparation is always key. Stay in shape, know your surroundings, and it couldn't hurt to build an immunity to bee venom. Well, it will hurt at first. Actually, it will hurt a LOT at first. Finally, you can practice with agitating and escaping honeybees. They are exactly the same...in the same way that Athenians and Spartans are both human...

What Grinds My Gears?

Illegal Mexican Immigrants who cant speak English but make you throw out your cup of coffee.......


Let me start off by clarifying that I have no problem with our neighbors to the south, despite the influx of violence and kidnapping in the US Southwest due to the the raging Mexican drug war, the swine flu, the economic burden and social restructuring caused by such a large number of non-English-speaking illegals, I tend to like Mexico....They gave us the nacho, the cheesy gortida crunch, teKILLya, and of course Dos Equis (favorite beer of the most interesting man in the world). I am a very tolerant person.....ok, I lied, those who know me that I am probably the antithesis of tolerant...but again I reiterate, I have a lot of Mexican friends, ok some Mexican friends.......I know a person who has visited there and has family that originated there....ok...anyways...

So the other day the lady and I went to the mall to kill time while my truck was getting a tune up, we did the usual couple at the mall thing, got gellato, perused some stores, and got coffee....It was a rainy and chilly day so a nice hot cup of coffee was just what the doctor ordered....So after getting my beverage the lady went to forever 21 and I went to the cigar store to browse around....It was about that time that my phone rang (and I rocked out to the theme song of the classic show 'Shaft' before answering) As expected it was the auto shop telling me that my car was ready but failed inspection...boosh on me :-/.....so annoyed I walked upstairs to the forever 21 to get the girl and go....Now a vital piece of information here is that her cell phone was dead.....and she is a woman in a clothing store so I had to physically go in a remove her....As I approached the entrance to the store I felt comforted by the fact that my coffee was reaching that perfect temperature where I no longer have to prepare for the sting of boiling coffee, but could feel it warm me on the way down....my friends, it doesnt get any better than that.....and it was at that moment it happened....This little Mexican employee of the store was standing in the front and said abrassively...NON...cafe..non entrada el storo....Excuse me? I just need to tell my....NON Usted no puede traer eso aqui sir....WTF????? So here I am....needed to get my truck and waving for the girlfriend...desperate as she looks in my direction and then back to the shirt she wants.....

Lets take it back for a moment....When we got back from our trip to Barbados (another EFFING COUNTRY) we landed in Miami...and the woman at the sandwich shop couldn't understand what i wanted to eat.....welcome home Chai T.....then...last week we went to California Tortilla for dinner, and when I asked for a lid for my gf's salad...the woman had to get the manager because she didnt know what I wanted....A LID....YO QIERO EFFING LID B*%&$ (I swear to God if you correct my Spanish spelling I will hunt you down and beat you)

So back to the mall.....I begrudgingly throw out my coffee....get my girlfriend who of course was "just on her way out" and go pay greens for the truck.....I would totally move to Mexico and speak English til the cows came home to get them back but I would die within days with all the crap going on there....so a solution? I have none....I am too upset to continue...my gears are sufficiently ground friends......

Boosh Hall of Fame: Bill "Big Daddy" Clinton

Bill Clinton... that could be the end of this entry if I wanted it to be. Perhaps no other man in the 20th Century, or in all time, so embodies all that is, was, and ever will be BOOSH.

William Jefferson Blythe Clinton III, Attorney General of Arkansas, 40th and 42nd Governor of Arkansas, 42nd President of the United States, Edmund A. Walsh School of Foreign Services at Georgetown University Graduate, Rhodes Scholar and Oxford Graduate, Yale Law School Graduate, tenor saxophone genius, cheating deceitful S.O.B, and pot smoker who "never inhaled." The list goes on my friends.

Bill presided over the 4th best US economy in history, arguably ended a recession, was head of the military at its strongest point since the beginning of WWII and did so all while gettin dome from an insecure White House intern. Perhaps the most BOOSHtastic of them all is he had the stones not only to convincingly lie to his wife, but also completely disregard the American people by somehow making us feel like the bad guy. Only can a master of Boosh break one of the 10 commandments and make an entire nation feel responsible. I mean come on folks. I could go on but why tell you when I can show you. Here are some prime examples of his BOOSHness....enjoy!

Here is Bill with his VP and their public ladies (note: Bill was already porking Lewinski when this photo was taken)

This was Bill's reaction when told the American people felt betrayed.

This is Bill blaming YOU for forcing him to have inappropriate relations with some one who 'wasn't that hot'.

No need to explain this one...BOOSH


Bill Clinton's new team of advisors.

In the end I proclaim Bill Clinton as one of the supreme of BOOSHdom and hope you all line up with respect for the man that made the Presidency pimp again.

Vintage Boosh 9

I know VB is usually a video, but I deem this DPChallenge winner truly Boosh worthy.

What Grinds My Gears

Cyclists who take the 'share the road policy' too seriously....


You know what Im talking about, you'll be driving home from a long day at work, tired and thinking of chilling on your couch with a cold brew to relax after having to wipe the dribble from the mouth of corporate America's infantile ineptitude. You'll fight traffic all the way home and when you are about 3 blocks from your apartment it happens. Out comes this jackass dressed to the nines like hes training for the Tour de GAAAAY riding in the middle of the damn road. Now one would logically think that they would ride in the designated bike lane, you know the one, it has the bicycle painted on it and says BIKE LANE. Now this lane may be good enough for you recreational bikers, but NOT for the CYCLIST. Oh no, you see riding the bike lane for these guys is riding the proverbial taint of cycling bravado. To them, status is measured on going toe-to-toe with the desperate housewives driving their husbands giant SUV but in the end all they do is grind my gears.

Driving home I get behind this douche who clearly thinks he could kick Lance Armstrong in his sole remaining nut and roll into history as the next Tour de GAAAAAY winner. Hes got the tight pants the tight shirt, the butt cushion, the 4 billion dollar aerodynamic helmet, the gloves made from baby seal skin for better grip, the 6 water bottles filled with a mix of water and Christ's blood, the shoes that snap into place, calf muscles that scream I touch myself when I look in the mirror, and so on. And of COURSE I get behind him at the worst point in his workout, you know what I mean, when he is in a really high gear so he is pedalling like crazy and going about 5 miles an hour......"Its cardio conditioning bra, gotta get my swell on"....EFF YOU.....and why is it that you aren't coming home from work like me, how can you be riding already? Oh wait I forgot, you work at the movie theater during the afternoon and sit in your ticket booth decked out with pictures of men riding bikes and tell all your customers the number of their theater, your time on the 5,000 meter sprint, and to enjoy their show.....you douche....and so here I am forced to sit and stare at your lame ass as you ride down the middle of the street and of course get through the intersection just in time for the longest light on my commute to turn red, forcing me and everyone behind me to honk and flip out......And though I know you will never be good enough to race in anything bigger than the KMART race for kid with *insert obscure disease fad of the year*, I admire your undeserved sense of accomplishment and your need to hold up hard working Americans on their ride home....from all of us here at The Boosh International, a hardy EFF YOU.

What Grinds My Gears? Hangovers

This is gonna be short, sweet, and to the point. Because its pushing 9pm, and Im still hungover from last night.

We've put a man on the moon. Split the Atom. Broken the sound barrier. Cloned sheep. Anhilated smallpox. Are in the process of transferring all TVs to a digital signal. And have perfected the art of the microwavable burrito. And still, I have to endure the sensation of a gnome pounding the inside of my skull with a hammer and roadkill in my stomach after ive spent the night before drinking. One would think that since we humans have been partaking in alcohol since the dawn of recorded history, and every single culture on the planet fancies itself the home of legendary drinkers, that by now we would have concocted a way to cure/prevent the inevatable legacy of the morning after hangover. Stop dropping the ball scientists. Someone needs to get their priorities in order quick, fast, and in a hurry.

We men don't have 'guilty' pleasures

From the Frisky by John DeVore

Men don't have "guilty pleasures." We own, nay, celebrate what's bad for us. Our obsessions are points of pride, not shame. You'll never see a guy wolf down a small mountain of waffles with a side of bacon and squeal, "Oh my gosh, I can't believe I ate everything! I'm so ashamed."

We will shamelessly sit in a nest of pizza crusts playing video games for endless hours. Unabashed tears will crawl out of the corners of eyes when the hometown team chokes at the last minute. Beer will be quaffed, their caloric potency mocked. These are the things that make life worth living.

Feeling bad about feeling good, even if the good is short-term, is for puritan chumps. If I could, I'd go out everywhere in my sweat pants.

Of course, overindulging has its prices. Sloth and gluttony are venial sins for a reason. But the whole idea of "guilty pleasures" is something that is lady-specific. Women feel shame over even tiny little hedonistic infractions.

I dated a woman once who was very much my type -- hot nerd -- who was deeply embarrassed over her celebrity trash magazine addiction. She actually tried to hide her US Weekly's from prying, judgmental eyes.

Eventually, I staged an intervention that went a little like this: "Please, woman, own your love of snickering over pictures of Hollywood stretch marks!"

This is not to say men aren't susceptible to social pressures, and masculine stereotypes. There are things that, while not "guilty pleasures," are ... minor vices. Things we are into that contradict standard male operating procedure. After all, one cannot live on bacon and beer alone. But a lot of guys find themselves infatuated with hobbies, media, and creature comforts that don't really fit the lumberjack mold. I'll wager many ladies are the quiet guardians of their man's not-really-secret, but not-really-public, quirks.

I am not ashamed of anything. This is why I will admit to the following minor vices, and in the process, teach women that they can be loud and proud when it comes to the hours spent rehearsing pucker faces in front of the mirror. Boldly rock your "guilty pleasures."

Bubble baths

Anyone got a problem with that? I love bath salts, bubbles, fizzy stuff that promises to magically transform your bathtub into a sauna. The whole kit and caboodle. There is nothing I love more than a good, frou-frou soak. Heck, maybe I'll light a votive candle too.

Quiche

I ate it this past weekend, in fact. That's right. I shoveled French egg pie into my mouth. Yes, quiche, a food that sounds like an inappropriate bodily sound. It was delicious. It had spinach in it, and I washed it down with sparkling water.

Sure, I could have eaten something drenched in cheese, or deep-fried. But the moment called for something sensible, delicate, and... flaky, okay? Quiche is awesome.

Reality TV shows about shallow women

A recent minor vice has actually entered my life. Every Tuesday, I eat Chinese food and watch "The Real Housewives of New York." Have you seen this show? It's like an open invitation to hate on women.

Is this really popular female wish fulfillment? All that chattering, and glittering? They are a bunch of bedazzled banshees that suddenly make me understand why the French guillotined all the rich aristocrats!

Sigh. While I'm not overly susceptible to gender norms, I think I need to go to the comic book store, or hit the shooting range.

Vintage Boosh 8

Boosh Hall of Fame: Cpt. Bartholomew 'Black Bart' Roberts

Piggybacking off of the recent Piracy post by the indominatable Chai T (Three time winner of People Magazine's 'Sexiest Man Alive' Award) and last night's episode of 'Deadliest Warrior: Pirate vs. Knight' on Spike TV*, I feel it is high time to induct a man after my own heart, Captain Bartholomew 'Black Bart' Roberts, into his rightful place in the Boosh Hall of Fame. In a time where the name 'Pirate' is being daily sullied by douche-bagging Somalians in fishing boats, it is important that those of us who still regard said title and profession with the esteem it deserves look to history as a source of inspiration. Enter the notorious dread pirate Black Bart.

Bart was a Welshman, which in of itself makes him sassier than 99% of human beings who ever have, do, or will live. He was born on May 17 in the year of our lord 1682 and spent the majority of his young adult life as an 'honest' sailor. Fortune would have it that Roberts became Third Mate on a slaving ship out of London called the 'Princess' (GAAAAAAY!!!). In 1719 it was anchored off the west coast of that delightful little continent called Africa when it was attacked and captured by a pair of pirate ships under the command of Howell Davis. Roberts was forced to join Davis' crew. At first, Roberts was repulsed by the notion of becoming a common pirate.

Becoming a Pirate Captain however, was all well and good. So roughly six weeks later, he became one. He would spend the next 3 years etching out his niche in history as possibly the baddest ass to ever sail the seven seas.

Now, we're probably all familiar with names like Blackbeard, Captain Kidd, and Jack Sparrow (who I will go to my deathbed regarding as a real historical figure). Truth be told however, Black Bart put them all to shame (except jack because...well come on, he fought the Kracken with a cutlass).

Blackbeard: In his roughly 5 year career, Blackbeard captured roughly a dozen major ships, 5 of which came all within a few weeks of each other during the blockade of Charleston harbor.

Captain Kidd: In a roughly 12 year career, Captain Kidd had only a handful of skirmishes and captured only two major prizes. He was actually tried and executed all the while vehemently denying he was a pirate at all. Which no self respecting pirate would ever do.

Black Bart, in roughly three years, captured 470 ships. Let that sink in for a moment. 470. If yer reaction to that is anything less than silent awe and slight sexual arousal, i want nothing tho do with you. Black Bart became so notorious that the govenors of the Caribbean colonies (Representing Britain, Spain, Portugal, France, and Holland, all of whom mind you HATED each other) pulled their wealth to hire a large fleet of independent 'pirate hunters' whose sole purpose was to hunt down Roberts and destroy him, ignoring all other pirates until this mission was accomplished. This was during he golden age of piracy people.

When word reached him that the navies of 5 of the world's superpowers put aside their differences solely to find him and open a cask of whoop ass, what do you think Roberts did? High tail it out of the Caribbean for the safer and more fertile waters off the coast of Africa? Find a nice abandoned island with a deep lagoon and lay low til the heat was off? Maybe abandon ship and comandeer (nautical term) a less recognizable one? These are all legitimate guesses, and all things that would make sense to a rational human being. Black Bart however, was not rational. He was a Pirate. So rather than do any of the above, he decided to hunt down and kill the French governor of Martinique. Why? Because that wig-wearrin land lubber really pissed him off thats why! Roberts found him alright....aboard a French Man-o-War. Problem? Psh. Hardly. Roberts laid the proverbial smackdown on the Frogs and hung the Lord Governor from the main sail of his own ship. If you aren't aware of how badass a feat this truly is; a Man-o-War at the time was armed with 124 guns. Roberts' ship was a Bermuda Sloop. Armed with 24 guns. Boosh.

All good things must come to an end however, and eventually Black Bart's luck ran out. On the 9th of February 1722, Roberts had captured the heavily laden merchant ship 'Neptune'. As per tradition, he and his men celebrated by getting completely and utterly shit-faced. By the morning of Feb. 10, they were still drunk, and still drinking actually. So what should appear on the horizon but a British Man-o-War (remember, 124 guns) the HMS 'Swallow' (again, GAAAAAY!!!) In their rum-addled state, Roberts and his men weren't able to identify the ship until it was right on top of them. By then they had one chance of escape, sailing past the 'Swallow' (GAAAAAY!!!!) and exploiting their own ship's superior speed in order to affect a hasty escape. Apparently, navigating an 18th century warship while under the influence of 12 hrs worth of rum isnt so easy, and Roberts' intoxicated helmsman actually steered the ship CLOSER to the Swallow (GAAAAAY!!!!).

As all 124 guns opened up with a barrage of hellfire, Roberts' terrified men scrambled for cover. Roberts himself however, apparently did not believe that discretion was the better part of valor. Maybe it was bravado, maybe it was the rum, but whatever the reason, rather than hide like a pansy, Roberts straddled a cannon and flipped the colonial era bird to his attackers. Thus with 12 pounds of steel AND a cannon between his legs, Bartholomew 'Black Bart' Roberts took an entire broadside worth of grapeshot to the torso and died the way he lived, drunk off of his ass and calling an Englishman queer.

Fortunately Roberts' men were still sober enough to remember, and fulfill the final request of their Captain. Before the British were able to board, they wrapped Roberts' body in chains and tossed it over the side of the ship, thereby depriving the Limey Wankers of their trophy.

So Captain 'Black Bart' Roberts, we the loyal crew of Boosh International salute you sir. I for one hope this small token of our admiration brings yer soul a small measure of solace as it burns for all of eternity in Hell. Because lets face it, if you aren't in Hell, there's probably not a God. Id be nervous that yer tormented spirit may haunt me for making a comment like that if i wasnt 100% sure that you agree. And if you did haunt me, we'd probably just come up with a way to get yer ghost drunk. Boosh.

*NOTE: In case you missed last nights episode of 'Deadliest Warrior: Pirate vs. Knight,' watch the below video for the results! The battle re-enactment is definately Boosh worthy!

What Grinds My Gears: "The Wedding Tax"

A wedding is an important day. It transcends time and space and, ultimately, affects the intrinsic value of things. I'm referring to, what I like to call, "The Wedding Tax." I have seen it from a safe distance during my many years in the "event and party" business, but only now am I experiencing it first hand.

Take a cake for instance. Go to any bakery and say that you want a cake for your brother's 26th birthday. Say that he likes strawberry filling and fondant icing. Oh, and his old fraternity brothers are coming as well, so a 2-tier would be ideal. "Haha, you know what would be awesome, if I played a joke and put a groom on top, damn would he get a kick out of that!" Get your price quote $100? $150? Reasonable, i'd say. "Oh, B.T.Dubbs, Throw a bride on top too...this is actually a wedding cake." WATCH that son of a bitch baker's eyes grow firm and angry as he aggresively doubles the price.

DO YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT A BRIDE FIGURINE ON TOP OF AN EFFING CAKE COSTS $150!?!?! Of course it doesn't! They do it because they can...because all of the "If-I-don't-get-married-now-I'll-never-have-kids" women will pay anything in their mad frenzy to marry their man before he looks at her mother and realizes she is a ticking time bomb of ugly. Multiply this by the whole midwest, and you get this Wedding Tax.

STORY TIME!!: My fiance was attempting to get her dress altered yesterday at a place which shall remain nameless...for two seconds: Sun Tailoring When quoted $200 for the alteration, my fiance asked (presumibly in a sweet and innocent way) "Isn't that a bit pricy?" "Hello! It's a wedding dress! If you don't like the price, take it somewhere else!" was the tax collector's reply. On a normal dress, the price would have been closer to $50.

Price fixing is an inherant part of our economy...but this 50-200% increase really grinds my gears!

What Piracy needs.....Is me!!

Some music to set the mood:

Without a doubt you are all familiar with the headlines reading of the bothersome and down right dangerous coast of Somalia where 'pirates' are hijacking ships and holding people for ransom. For the first time in a Century 'pirate' has once again become a household term. But this is a very disturbing thing to me. You see, back in the day, the mention of pirates made men shake with fear and envy, and made the nether regions of women tingle with mystery and delight. But today the mention of pirates conjure up thoughts of malnourished teenagers who smell like sewage and gallivant around in small fishing boats waving automatic guns....unacceptable!!!! The time is upon us to recapture the pirate name!! So join me in my conquest to return pirating to its rightful place of rum swilling high sea adventuring swagger inducing badassery!!

THE PLAN:
-Meet at JFK international airport at a time to be later specified.
-Board a plane to the island of St. Martin
-Steal a large replica ship from the 18th Century
-Arm ourselves with traditional weapons, rum, and clothing to the effect of Black Beard
-Locate an uninhabited island with a deep lagoon

THE REQUIREMENTS:
-Be willing to follow the plan
-Be open to heavy drinking
-Be open to copious amounts of sinful activity including but not limited too looting, pillaging, killing, sword fighting, unprotected acts of intercourse, and yelling profanity from the yard arm.

In no time the headlines will read: "'Pirates of the Caribbean' Comes to Life" New group returns piracy to its sexy nature!" We will drown out the Somalis

Undoubtedly we will be forced to take on a multi-national naval task force, but fear not, for our allure will protect us, CNN will read "...in other news, entire platoon of SEALS jump ship to join roving gang of swaggering swashbuckling pirate studs"

We will once again leave a legacy that Piracy is truly a calling for the brave adventure-seeking lads that live inside all of us. So stand together and say no to Somalia and yes to escapades of captain morgan induces jackassery the like of which the world has never seen....to the high seas ye mateys!!!!!!!

Boosh Hall of Fame: General Sir Banastre Tarleton

We've all seen the movie "The Patriot" starring household name and raging anti-semite Mel Gibson. I trust you all remember the ominous antagonist Col. Tavington of the Dragoon Calvary yes? Well, splendid, because that murderous vagabond is actually based on a real person. Colonial era badass Banastre Tarleton and his myrmidons, known as Tarelton's Raiders, are legend in the American Revolution for completely disregarding all orders of civility and grace by slaughtering everything from South Carolina to New Jersey. Banastre had a particular method of ruthlessness that included taking over farms, killing the men, raping and killing the women, taking the children telling them bedtime stories and killing them, and taking the slaves, making them work, telling them they are then free, watching them walk away, then killing them. Revolutionary lore has it that Banastre would test the sharpness of his sword on entire towns near Charleston. On May 29, 1780, Tarleton, with a force of 150 mounted soldiers, overtook a detachment of 350 to 380 Virginia Continentals led by Abraham Buford. Buford refused to surrender or even to stop his march. Only after sustaining heavy casualties did Buford order the surrender. What happened next is cause of heated debate. According to American accounts, Tarleton ignored the white flag and mercilessly massacred Buford's men one by one.In the end, 113 Americans were killed and another 203 captured, 150 of whom were so badly wounded that they had to be left behind. Tarleton's casualties were 5 killed and 12 wounded. The British called the affair the Battle of Waxhaw Creek, while the Americans knew it as the Buford Massacre or the Waxhaw Massacre.

Not only was Banastre a marauding slayer of the innocent, he was a massive playa as well. He seduced and married actress Mary Robison, the 18th Century Angelina Jolie, on a bet!!! Despite her wishes they had no children. After he was bored he married Susan Bertie, the illegitimate daughter of the 4th Duke of Ancaster, for the money....and nothing else. His brothers, Clayton and Thomas, ran one of the largest Slave Trading Companies in all of Britain. In vehement support of his kin, Banastre was know for his particularly wry and inappropriate sense of humor towards abolishonists, often mocking them for their beliefs before slitting their throats while simultaneously forcing slaves to perform "womanly duties" on him in front of his dying victims. "The last thing those fairy abolishonists will see as they bleed out are the slaves they tried to save servicing my British hog!", proclaimed Banastre.

One insanely BOOSH moment in his life was portrayed in the film where he locked and entire town in a Church and burned it to the ground. His reasoning, to avoid tarnishing his new uniform. BOOSH!!!!!

His demise was equally fantastic. During the Battle of Cowpens, Banastre's forces were on the verge of complete annihilation by Daniel Morgan and the Colonial Regulars. In one of histories greatest booshes, Banastre told his remaining Dragoons to assault the left flank of the Colonials saying they were weakest there. As his men charged forward he slowly drifted to the back, and when out of sight, turned and high-tailed it out of there as his men hit the strongest flank of the Colonial advance. He returned to England a hero, living in luxury. Our hats are off to you, you master of BOOSH. History will hold you in high regards Banastre Tarleton!