Tuesday, March 31, 2009

I'm gonna Roundhouse Kick you, by the way.

Never, ever, ever say out loud what I just wrote in the "title" of this post to an enemy you are about to Roundhouse kick.

Hi, there. I'm bbClap, famed advice-giver to the Stars*.

I wanted to speak to you today on the subject of Roundhouse Kicks, and, inadvertently, my cousin, Diego. My cousin Diego was roundhouse kicked by me yesterday (that's how I got from A to B on that whole "inadvertently" claim).


Diego is a dickhead. In short, he is my older cousin and I used to respect him because I am weak and, by default, I respect people who just so happen to have been born before me. Diego, in a nutshell, held two fingers horizontally (his right pointer finger coupled with his right middle finger) up to my nose so as to give me, I thought, a whiff of the sex he had had the night before. Then I remembered that he and I and a bunch of his friends went to see a movie the night before, not to mention that not one of us are female, or "vagina-havers" as my father used to call them.

Anyway, back to his fingers... the smell was sharp and violent much in the same that consensual sex isn't. I said to him:

"Ah! What is that?"

"I have no idea. Just woke up and it smelled like that."

"What smelled like that, your fingers?"

"No, my balls."

Suddenly, I had a flashback to the night before. He had convinced me to see The Knowing because it apparently had a cool plane crash scene in it, so naturally it was a solid argument to me. As you can imagine, it was a terrible movie. I spent nearly $20 with movie ticket and a medium diet coke. That anger, when mixed with the horrible smell he put into my nasal cavity, produced a beautiful roundhouse kick.

I'd do it again. I will do it again. Do you know how to Roundhouse Kick, Mom and Dad? It's as easy as 1-2-3, etc, 7.


*1. Not Hollywood Stars, but more like I just look up at the sky at night and give advice to the stars. You know, stuff like "Hey, y'all stars should totally just disappear one night simultaneously and not return for a few days just to fuck with people a lil bit".

Friday, March 27, 2009

this website features graphics, you guys.


bbC, here.

Capn Stubby recently tried to convince me to take my Fila shoebox of sweat-laced (and I mean sweat, boy) gold chains to L and L Enterprises to see what percentage of my gold it is that causes green discoloration of my skin (that's chest and neck skin). CS thinks it's probably a high percentage, I just think that the green means it's working and that I'm probably sweating, which is an indication that I'm either working out, or I'm clubbin', either of which will probably get me laid...which equals more sweat.

Did I mention I'm hairy?

Anyway, I went to L & L's website, but didn't get past the home page.
(Eddie Lofton)

There is a pleasantly long video there of owner, Eddie Lofton, talking about some stuff. What stuff? I don't know, there's something about his voice and the manner in which he was talking to me (he was talking directly to me) that made Time melt like a pad of butter. Just watch the video, you'll see.

take this figurative bridge on over to L & L!!!

here are Eddie's Five U's, in case the video doesn't convince you skeptical motherfuckers that you need to take your business to L & L:

-Unprecedented Service
-Unimpeachable Integrity
-Unparalleled Experience
-Uncontested Ability
-Unbending Reliability

Boom Boom Clap is proud to announce our first contest.
The first person to email us a complete written transcript of L & L's video wins a free gold* necklace.

email submissions to carlos.boomboomclap@gmail.com

*bbC reserves the right to interpret the word "gold" in anyway it deems fit to it's fiscal holdings. This includes, but is not limited to, metaphorical interpretations.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Dr. Sillynamenstein, phDoyoyoing

My doctor, Dr. Sillynamenstein, after my latest spell (an incident where I got so angry I leapt from my sitting position and hit the floor, instantly turning myself into a steamroller and attempted to steamroll anyone and anything that got into my way) has suggested to me that I take two of these in the morning (he handed me two banana peels) and call him in the morning (where he then handed me a fake cell phone that was filled with little gum-balls).

Dr. Sillynamenstein reminded me that "laughter is the best medicine" and that I should "turn that frown upside down". He then grabbed my crotch and said "honk! honk!"

I shoved him off me and balled up my fists. He stared at me for about half a minute as I tried to figure out if maybe I really was going insane visiting a doctor with the name Dr. Sillynamenstein and was more than likely, therefore, parked in a tow-away zone.

He continued to stare at me until he broke the silence by grabbing his own crotch and saying "honk! honk!".

We laughed and laughed for about an hour straight. And, although I do feel better, I think that maybe laughing for a whole hour with one Dr. Sillynamenstein is probably worth visiting a legitimate doctor for.

Nonetheless, I did some research on my angry steamroller condition online, and better yet, on Youtube. I found a man in Turkey who has the exact same problem, you guys! I'm not the only one!

check it out:

Monday, March 23, 2009

Jimmy from Craigslist sux, and a video

bbC here, y'all. Got something special for you today. A video. Count it down, Jimmy!

Jimmy? Hey, Jimmy? Jimmy, where you at? God damn Craigslist-hired Production Assistants. I guess I have to continue typing my own countdowns, for pete's sake. I mean, seriously, my own god damn countdowns! Jimmy, I'm gonna slice open your...

Jimmy? Thought I heard him come in. Jimmy? I need to put a cow-bell around his neck.

Note to self/Jimmy: forced cowbell usage on P.A.'s and sneaky people in my life, is this a good idea or just an old forgotten one/illegal one? Also, remember to ask Jimmy if he can hear my words as I type them. Is that a dumb question? Ask Jimmy.

Never mind, Here's a countdown brought to you by me, I guess.






(Jimmy, this is where you would have cued the following: a flashing, break-neck quick montage of eons and eons of painful, screaming, violent, dripping, bloody, smelly, impossibly improbable evolution of life on earth, from soupy minerals and one-celled organisms all the way to a hairy caveman cramming seeds into soil with his beautiful opposable thumbs and a stick...but, you're not around, are you, Jimmy, you dick?)

blast off! (play video below as you say "blast off" to yourself)

Saturday, March 21, 2009

We're just so tired, Honey.

Hey, okay, so...we've been lazy. We haven't been posting much lately. What can I say? Blame it on the drugs. Not my drugs, but your drugs. They suck.

Get new drugs and let me know when you're ready to be entertained. In the meantime, expect regular posting to begin again in two days.

thanks, Dad.


Friday, March 13, 2009

We've gone corporate, dicks.

(Us pitching our ideas about graphs and how graphs can help express things)

Hey, mom and dad.

Sorry we haven't posted in a while. Capn Stubby and I have been a bit busy lately with some more commercial type work. So, I may not need you to lend me money again this month. But, don't hold me to that, god damn it. I'm your son.

anyway, check out this video of Dr. Strangelove and some muppies doing some Red Ingle:

Monday, March 9, 2009

here's a picture

Hey. No poems for you today. You dried me up, you smothered me with your readership.

So, I'm just gonna show you this picture (via our friends at PPP, some time ago) and hope that you'll think about what you've done with your life and if you'll ever have half the conviction that these gentlemen obviously had at some point in their lives:

Sure, laugh at them if you must. Go ahead. As you live your painfully self-scrutinized life, just remember that while you are really just too embarrassed to be alive, you really cant touch this.

Thursday, March 5, 2009

Some Poems on the subject of Revenge

Dear Reader,

It's me, bbC. What up? Found some old poems I wrote a while back. They're pretty special to me. I hope you enjoy them:

Poem 1
You came to me in a dream.
Now I have a gun.
a gun.

Poem 2

The snow tastes like popcorn from ages past.
You pissed me off.
Now I have a machete.

Poem 2.5

Well, how the world spins,
Its days mocking our death, our birth.
Your death is more like it cause I'm gonna get some revenge.

Poem 3

Roasted Duck on Christmas Morning...
Never say "fuck you" to me when I'm driving, asshole

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

This is safe for your work if you work in Rape.

Rape is not funny.

Hi, I'm Boom Boom Clap.

I have a video for you today. I came across it on Youtube in the related videos section. It caught my eye because the title caused some difficulties in my brain. My brain, as you may assume, is made up of gears, cogs, springs and steam pipes. There was something about the video's title, Worst Gay Rape Scene Ever, that made one of my brain-springs go "boy-yoy-yoing", and one of the brain-gears went "koog koog koog" as its teeth skipped a cog and ground against another gear. This caused my brain-steam pipe to split and let out a whistle, "toooot!".

It's all very scientific, screw you.

NSFWIYDWIGR (not safe for work if you don't work in gay rape)

edit: It was late last night when I posted this. Upon a fresh new day, I'm thinking that I should tell you this is rather violent. Later on tonight I'll probably think it's funny again.