In an attempt to set a Guinness Record for most texts sent in a month two douchebags decided to text eachother non stop. They totalled about 217,000 texts between the two of them with one of them receiving a bill for $26,000 delivered to him in a box that cost $27 to ship. Dr. SlowEff recommends they stop texting and more importantly, stop sucking at life. If you really want to get into Guinness I recommend you attempt to kill yourselves faster than anyone has ever done before.
Here is the link if you feel the need to read more about these effs.
Ok SlowEffers, I think its time we put a stop to this string of shit, car racing films that play with the formula of "Good Cop meets Bad Guy, so lets effing race on abandoned highways and in dark industrial alleys, while we develop relationships, trust and love those who are forbidden, all in the presence of guns, engines, massive explosions and special effects" kind of thing.
First, let me start by saying that I have not viewed any of this shit franchises films...I do not have an intake, an exhaust tip, a sports package, neon lights, wind fins, Nitrous turbo kit, tachometers, didgeridoos or digerydonts...i do have a super fast Audi with a V8 4.2 L though, so shhhhlob on my knob.
The following is my loose interpretation of the story lines that unfold for the awful Fast and Furious series. Grammar rules are thrown out the window and proper sentence structure is at times raped. The message, I pray, is conveyed clearly...somewhat clearly at least.
As far as I can tell here's the way it works.
Fast and the Furious- Bad guy with little sister and girlfriend doing bad things, run into undercover good guy who pretends to want involvement in said bad things. Good guy gets in over his head with bad things, falls for bad guys little sister, races bad guy, has sweet car, wins, bad guy likes, trusts, then bad guy realizes at the end good guy is not bad but actually good...more racing, plot thickens...I've just hung myself by the rafters.
Next up, 2 Fast 2 Furious- Now things are extra fast and extra furious, one might even say 2 furious...hahah, I've made myself laugh....but seriously, back to the plot I envision. Now we've got the same players but slightly different circumstances...backs were stabbed and hearts were broken in the first movie and these story lines need to be tied up. Enter super male model Tyrese and a rapper turned actor...Get Back Get Back Y'all Don't Know Me Like That...Hiyo Ludacris, I can't wait to hear the urban dialogue you'll provide all while introducing an additional car squad to the game...I imagine they are Asians becaaaaaaaaaause...
Next Stop is Tokyo- in keeping with the rap theme lets call Lil Bow Wow and see if he's available to star in a "bound to suck" feature film about an edgy, new wave asian style of racing called drifting. sweet, now everyone is going on very curved roads and pulling the effing E brake...sounds like a snow day in high school ya effin dorks...I imagine at some point a samurai fight breaks out and there is a difficult to breach language barrier that only temporarily holds back the main love plot in the storyline. I also imagine there is sushi, a chop stick fight and soy sauce fueling the turbo fast Honda's and Mitsubishi's.
Annnd now we come to the 4th installment of suck. Based on the trailers it seems "these guys already know each other"....no shit, its the 4th effing film. I can only imagine the cars are faster than ever, the driving is the most furious we've seen and Vin Diesel has more pre knock out punch lines than a bouncer at McFaddens. The girls are still hot and edgy and the same can be said for pretty boy Paul Walker as they drive the latest "2 EFF 2 EFFious" movie straight over the guard rail....i will not be calling roadside assistance.
I want to kick Vin Diesel in his short stack...if it weren't for his redeeming role in Chronicles of Riddick (i know, I'm not sure why the eff i like it either)...but that doesn't get him off the suck hook. As for you Mr. Paul Walker, my hetero man crush on you has run deep since the days of Varsity Blues...I wanted to be you man, and now...now I'm just upset looking at what your career has become...doo doo. To the ladies, Michelle and Jordana, you look good, seriously...that is all.
Everyone should do themselves a favor and NOT go to this film...also, obey the law of the road and wear seat belts.
During last nights thrilling coverage of the VCU vs UCLA first round NCAA tournament game, the producers at CBS showed that they're nothing more than a couple of middle aged dirtbags. As underdog VCU closed the gap on Pac-10 powerhouse UCLA, and the pressure of the game intensified, the camera started to focus on 2 bikini clad VCU fans. For those of you not familiar with college sports, VCU stands for Virginia Commonwealth University, a school known more for its French Film Festivalthan its population of attractive co-eds. At first glance it appeared that that these girls were underage VCU superfans who made the trek to support their team. As time wore down it was revealed that these down country vixens were actually members of VCU's pep band. Either way, is it necessary to bombard us with uncomfotable bikini shots during a close college game? I'm all for gratuitous shots during games, but Jenn Sterger these girls are not. Not cool CBS, not cool.
As a recent Manhattan resident-turned commuter, I've been forced to adapt to a new lifestyle, for better or for worse. Nowhere is this more apparent than my gym regimen. For years, my routine has been based around the philosophy that you go home, change, go to the gym and go home to change; this came to a screeching halt when I moved out to the boonies with no car or gym for miles. So now I gym bag it, with all of the other gym-going commuter douches. Through trial and error, I've learned the ropes of locker room etiquette. Unfortunately, nothing could prepare me for Tuesday's "initiation". Here's how it started: Get out of work on time - check. Find a locker not surrounded by 20 dudes - check. Change - check... sorta. While tying my shoes, I caught a nasty whiff of something fierce, like "holy shit, what the eff is that?!" Being the inquisitive person that I am, I turned to check my area (bad idea). As my luck would have it, some shit-farting ninja had snuck up, strategically placing his dirty ass and wiener about a foot away from me. In an attempt to avert my eyes from the Rocky Horror Johnson Show, I ended up cranking my head into my own locker door - it was like I turned on my TV to "2 girls, 1 cup" and the only way to change the channel was with my face. mr Miyagi found this quite hilarious. Well I'm never falling for your fart-flashing move again. But fear not effers, I was handsomely rewarded with a pole-dancing class in the main studio. Whammy.
A new feature topic here on sloweff will be "not cool." Not cool will consist of random observations made while conducting everyday tasks and routines that I deem aren't "cool." Currently I'm on the N,R,W on the way to work on a fantastic Monday morning. The trains crowded, but not overly packed. I'm minding my business, playing brickbreaker, trying to pass the time- when are eerie wofting scent approaches my nostrils. A middle aged man is seated to my left with a newspaper covering his face. I look down, he peers from over the Post and coyly smerks as if he felt guilty about something- the way a kid would smirk after eating the last cookie from the cookie jar. Not cool bro. I'm trying not to slit my wrists as it is and here you are dropping bombs in a subway full of people who probably don't want to smell the onions and meat you had for dinner last night either. To make things worse he rode for 2 stops and just got off as I'm writing this.....the ollllld stink and run- well played sir. Welp, hopefully this has no bearing on the upcoming week.
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