Thursday, March 17, 2005

McScarfy

And now, a very special Saint Patrick's Day episode of Scarfy McGee, everybody's favorite college drama. It's just like a brand new episode of The O.C.. Except vulgar. And if it's funny at all, it's intentionally funny. And brought to you by the fine folks at Tide.
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When did it become trendy to wear a fucking neckerchief? Curly McSue and I were sitting in the back of the classroom recently, shoving our tongues down each other's throats, when our teacher, Mrs. McNugget, sauntered in wearing a flamboyant neckerchief that immediately made me forget about Scarfy McGee's fucking scarfy scarf, not to mention the raging boner I got while I was necking with Curly McSue.

Fucking Scarfy is a dumb fucking fuck.

Over Spring Break, Curly McSue and I went to Cancun, Mexico. We spent the whole time hopping from bar to bar, drinking tequila and boning in the filthy bathrooms. After a decidedly quick romp--I only lasted forty minutes--Curly McSue and I left the bathroom with a certain glow effervescing from our bodies. The glow left as we surveyed the crowd. Did my eyes deceive me? Sitting at the bar, in the middle of Hot-As-Fuck, Mexico, sat Scarfy McGee. Wearing his goddamn scarf. And his beanie. But mostly just his fucking scarf. He was sipping on a Bloody Mary and drooling over a table of underaged high school girls. Think again, Scarfy. Even preteens aren't that desperate.

I'm pleased to say that Curly McSue and I made it home in one piece, and with most of our luggage. We had left behind a few pairs of underwear and a tee-shirt that had fallen into a toilet at El Explosivo Del Beverago, a shithole dive in which she and I had screwed several times.

Thanks for the memories.

Speaking of Mexico, Carlos McSanchez is no longer in my class. Am I to assume that he and his sharecropper family decided to hop on the truck to another farm? I kid, I kid. I'm not really racist. I know that he's probably just been lazily napping under a sombrero, like most filthy Mexicans do.

Today is Saint Patrick's Day, which isn't really a holiday. Regardless, Curly McSue and I are going to go out and get liquored up. In honor of this festival that celebrates an undeserving man and a race of red-headed drunkards that beat their wives, I'm going to make all of my friends Irish for the rest of the day. Curly McMcSue and I are going to a party at the house of Beardy McMcFace (nee Baldy McDoo). There we plan on drinking Pabst Blue McRibbon until we go to McMcDonald's completely McToasted out of our minds. Then we'll probably bang the McNight away until we pass McOut. McFuck Scarfy McGee.

If you want to learn more about these brave men protecting our interests overseas, please donate to the Scarfy McGee Charity For Chlamydia Awareness. Thank you.

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