Dr. Sloweff: Back in the Building

So long long sebatics from basements to attics. No writing or posts just the doctor and ghosts. It's back on the boogie, not splenda but suggie, not knight but the day, shots right so I play.

San Di-effing-Ego: the home and the playground from which the posts now flutter. Coming new in "2K Levs" will be a section entitled "People Are Effing Awesome" with a focus on levels of awesomeness people have attained and also the lack thereof. In addition, there will be a good bit of VLoggin coming straight outta compton with thoughts and general life advice from my southern 60 year old alter ego "Miss Alice"...this is sure to be a hit as Miss Alice pulls no punches and shoots from the hip and has recently been compared to a female equivalent of Glenn Beck (who sucks balls) so you know it's good to goodie.

Bottom line is this...the Squad took a break for slow, slow effery, body building and creative rejuvenation. Now we're back and this time around we'll be bigger than ever in Canada...maybe even one of the new Sudan's (finger's crossed).

I leave you with this video as a brief but explanatory gift...a teaser, a lip wetter, a pump fake, an in out in out, a just the tip on top of an ouch ouch you're on my hair. i believe some call it a preview.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6MLqoiOcjYg

and this

http://www.youtube.co/watch?v=v_habakm5sw

IFYOURENOTEFFINGFASTYOUREEFFINGSLOWLY,

Dr. Sloweff

Happy Gilmore is Alive?

An Arizona man has recently been charged with 6 counts of assault after a golf game gone wrong.

Nathan Moore was coming around the front nine at the Maricopa Golf Course and preparing to scavenge his club selection for the appropriate "stick" to tackle the dog leg left, par 4 hole number 10. It's a challenging hole that I have not played before...as I've never even been to Arizona..but enough about me, let's talk about Nathan. After selecting his club...a 3 wood, that he'd been hitting quite well thus far that day, he approached the tee box and prepared to drive that little white ball the distance. It was at this point that Mr. Moore noticed a young boy, 12 years of age, rummaging around the bushes looking for golf balls. Mr. Moore, intoxicated as well as being a huge dick head, did not appreciate what he viewed as golf ball theft. He then proceeded to give this 12 year old boy a crotch grab neck grab toss into the bushes and finished things off with a nice 3 wood to the femur for good measure. Seriously Nathan?

I suggest you go Eff yourself...and leave the Happy Gilmore shit for the movies.

http://www.azcentral.com/community/swvalley/articles/2009/06/04/20090604swv-golfer0604-ON.html

Streaming Updaters= Go Eff Yourselves

I'm sooooo effing tired of reading completely unnecessary shit that streams from "status messages" on facebook via my news feed. Why any of these people are under the impression that others care to keep a minute by minute log of their facebook friends whereabouts is beyond me.
Dr. SlowEff has yet to figure out just what type of person it takes to post these streaming messages of personal doo doo butter. As such, I have conducted a sweep of my facebook news feed in search of some of the most horrendous violators of this new age personal pathetic update system,also known as a PPUS or PathetiPuss.

I hope you know these people and I hope some of them read this...its not out of hate, but rather, out of love that I have called attention to this gross misconduct.

wishes more than just one of my RSS feeds would update itself :(
- This person is maybe the number one worst status messanger ever,what the Eff is an RSS feed you dork and why oh lord why do I need to hear about your wishes.

reading some articles this morning... at least I have coffee!!! :0)
- Well isn't this great, you have coffee to help you through some articles...this makes me feel better about having coffee and reading a case file...thanks loser

was so tired a few hours ago, why am I wide awake right now? Damn insomnia...
- OHHH, isn't this a shame. Am I supposed to spend my day feeling sorry that this person I sort of know is having a rough bout with insomnia...NOPE

wonders how you stuff a marshmallow into a piggy bank
-Ahh, the creative updater, asking me questions I'll be forced to dwell upon for the remainder of my life...I don't care about how a marshmallow fits in an effing piggy bank, i only care that it fits in my mouth>>(What she said..oh snap)

just discovered Mistos at Starbucks and is now obsessed
-Well isn't that great. It seems you went to Starbucks and read the menu...clap clap clap...maybe I'll go get a misto because of this.

What scares me most about this new wave of PPUS is that it is spreading rapidly. There is now this awful thing called Twitter that has pro basketball players posting at halftime and pretty much anyone with access to the Internet hoping to get their thoughts (that i don't care about) across to the world. Dr.'s Prescription= go eff yourselves
This video says it all...whether facebook streaming updates or Twitter tweeting, its all just yapping about your unnecessary, unexceptional life.

Breaker Breaker...Go Eff Yourself

People who drive cars that look like cop cars- who the eff do you think you are? I mean really. You’re not an effing cop. You are probably an off duty cab driver if anything; if not, you’re a plain jane dick head with no excuse but poor taste in vehicles. Did you think you were going out and getting something classy when you purchased that Crown Victoria or Mercury’s Grand Marquis? Who does things like this? Are you state employed? Are you driving around laughing about how effing funny you think you are, freaking out driver after driver on the roads or highways where you live? Do you fake pull people over in your bullshit cop whip? You’re an effing creep if you do. Every time I see an assstache like you I cringe. I mean, what if you were a cop? My initial reaction is to play it safe, gazing at my mirrors and gauges in panic, and then when I realize your not an effing 5o, my anger is compounded because my intial reaction of fear was unnecessary. It turns out your just that dick of the week who bought a cop car at a government auction, or for some reason actually purchased a goat boat like that off the lot. And why, oh lord why, do you have to have that spotlight still attached to the driver side mirror? Is that really necessary? I mean, are you an effing deer hunter going spotting in the woods? First off, a Deer hunter should have a truck or a serious roof rack to toss his prize 8 point buck on/into. I don't see any availability for such activity on your vehicle sir. Seems you’re just a dork who drives a car that looks like a cop car…

Diagnosis- Get a new car or Go Eff Yourself...matter of fact... just Go Eff Yourself

Prescription...Go Eff Yourself

Dear Terrell Owens,

While you may be a physical specimen, have the second most passes caught for touchdowns, 6 pro bowl selections and a very healthy bank account, you are a Douche Bag in every wonderful sense of the word.
Terrell Eldorado Owens I Effing hate you. For starters, sweet middle name Eldorado... Ha that's most likely the name of the sleazy motel where you were conceived. You are a ruinous piece of shit. Everything you touch, everywhere you go, things get good and then get totally effed. San Fran-- you complain about your contract and call your qb gay in a city where being gay is en vogue to begin with. Next stop, Philly. I have to admit, I was a hesistant optimist when you arrived. Yeah you had a great season, recovered from a serious injury and played a great super bowl. Problem is, right after that you start effing things up, causing all sorts of problems and hating on the captain and QB McNabb. What's your effing deal man. Can't you roll with the ups and downs of life and sports? The answer is cleary No. So, you get your season hacked in half cause they don't deal with bitches like you in philly. Then you create a mediea circus and ruin errrvrything.
Next stop, the stars at night, are big and bright...clap clap clap clap...deep in the heart of Texas. Welcome to the cowboys where Effers like yourself have made names for themselves both with their mouths and their performance. Seemed like a perfect fit. Next thing you know you can't get through the playoffs, you're crying about "my quarterback" at a press conference and you attempt to OD on hydrocodone. I don't mind the supporting your teammate stuff but get it together. Now, as for the "allergic reaction" ,or rather your excuse for an attempt to off yourself with painkillers...coughpussy...cough. Seriously Terrell Eldorado, what a weak drug of choice to take yourself out with. NO combo upper downer, No pure H, just painkillers? Painkillers are for pain and when used recreationally, should be taken with friends on "off days" while playing video games. You ruined your own suicide man, that's not supposed to happen and your life probably wasn't supposed to happen and I truly hope that you winning a super bowl never happens. And now your dumbass got cut from the cowboys...who's gonna want you now Terrrrreeeeelllllll? Some fuck i bet...Rant over...Go Eff Yourself.

It puts the "In" in Lint

Each day when I return from work and begin to unwind, I take my clothes off...aww yeah. It is at this point, as I give myself the once over, that I am forced to stop and face the facts...I Have Belly Button Lint!

I remember as a young lad, hearing my father discuss what he called "Blint" or belly button lint with my mother. I never thought much of it until years later when my professional career took off and I began wearing button down shirts daily. I remember the first sighting...standing all alone on a cold bathroom floor..gazing into the abyss that is my "inny". But nay, twas not my belly button that gazed back at me. It was a fuzzy blue clump of "Blint" that filled this void.



I've always wondered what I could do to stop this persistent navel nuisance. Turns out, after reading this in depth study, at http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,504067,00.html, there is not much I can do...aside from shaving my entire chest/stomach region.

"Georg Steinhauser, a young, affable Austrian chemist, spent three years gazing at his own navel — and those of friends and family as well — to discover how exactly we get belly-button lint."

What an Effing weirdo...but this weirdo may hold the key to navel future. He goes on to explain the raison d'etre of belly button lint and I have to say, it does not take a chemist to arrive at his results.

Steinhauser says:
"The abdominal hair collects fibers from cotton shirts and directs them into the navel where they are compacted to a felt-like matter."

Genius

boo yah, if i don't wear cotton shirts i'll be fine. someone call under armour...I need some effing button downs.

Prescription....go eff yourself

So I will often take everyday observations, thoughts, gripes, over grinded gears, etc.. and share my personal/professional diagnosis as to the worth, point and legitimacy of noted topics.

First up...old ladies in fur coats. I've got a serious issue with you old furbags and it is in noooo way related to PETA. I know they are somebodies grandma and for that we love them, but really?


Old women in fur — muuuuuurrrrrrderers, how can you even take yourself seriously? First off, that look is so damn old school to begin with. You certainly aren’t putting off an air of high society by wearing small chinchilla or rabbit out on the town. And I know through minimal fashion research and an above average sense of style that your outerwear is not cutting any edge, its simply cutting pelts. Pelts of rodents, yeah, that’s something I want to wear, are you effing kidding me? You might as well be the bird lady wearing that kind of garb around town. Yeah, that’s right, a bird lady, like the one from Home Alone: New York, surrounded by pigeons and their shit, tossing breadcrumbs all over you like some skanky goddess. I've been in NYC for about 2 months now and I see you creatures errrrvrywhere. The Upper East is locked and stocked with you, the theater district is practically your motherland and worst of all, the recycled-homeless person fur...often times patched up with the hide of central park squirrel. I’m not even in this for the animals here, I just can’t stand to watch you beastly old women walking around like giant rats…

Diagnosis....Go Eff Yourself