Tag Archives: Breast

One hundred bottles of blog on the wall! Our 100th beer, I mean blog update


So here we are, the 100th update at Hadafewbeers.com.

Let’s fist bump in celebration. Go ahead and “blow it up” if you feel the desire. It’s that kind of party after all.

What our fist bump might look like if we were complete douches on The Bachelor.

What our fist bump might look like if we were complete douches on The Bachelor.

Seems kind of retarded doing another milestone update for this milestone, considering the Happy Birthday blog was just a month ago, but who cares? One hundred is a big number, and it’s a round number. Holy shit, it’s a BIG ROUND NUMBER! Actually I think “big round numbers” was the subject of a Dilbert cartoon that noted the only thing really special about 100 is that it’s big, and round — like boobs. 

But instead of looking back (again) on this craptastic crapfest of crap, I thought it might be better to thank a few people. I’d like to thank them mainly because they rock, but also because they help me suck less, a lot less, in fact.

Let’s start off with Fn Rotton which sounds kind of like Sex Pistol Johnny Rotten, only less cool. Fn Rotton, aka Fran, is my editor and she basically does everything she can to make me look like less of an idiot.

She's also threatened to stab me in the hand, through the computer, over hyphen useage.

She’s also threatened to stab me in the hand, through the computer, over hyphen-useage issues.

Clearly she’s only moderately successful, but look what she had to start with. Between yelling at me about my multiple spaces after periods; my retarded use of the single quotation marks (which this post was riddled with, you ass. ~ Editor); and words I think I made up, but are actually already words (or when I actually do make up a word, but I somehow still manage to misspell it), I’m not sure why she volunteered to edit this thing. She must be driven by some sort of sadomasochistic psychological abnormality. I would submit she could experience the same level of pain if she actually did pluck her eyes out, something she repeatedly threatens when I aggravate her. The closest I ever came to understanding why she edits this is when she told me, “because it’s ridiculous.” After that explanation, I learned some questions don’t need answers.

The original ad said "Fat Bastards" but the Society for the Protection of Fat Bastards was offended. Sensitive fat bastards.

The original ad said “Fat Bastards” but the Society for the Protection of Fat Bastards was offended, the sensitive fat bastards that they are.

Then, there’s Jesse. And let me be very frank — I don’t exactly know what the fuck Jesse does here. I only know that since he’s been doing it a lot of chicks on Twitter want to have sex with me. I also know I’m fat. I know I’m fat because at the Had A Few Beers Facebook page ads selling dieting information keep popping up. Fuck you Jesse, I’m not fat, I’m drunk.

Actually, Jesse works tirelessly to build an audience for this collection of dick jokes, boob references and who-knows-what. He does this, he explained to me, by stealing.

So, as with Fran, sometimes it’s best not to ask. Just trust, there’s nothing wrong with trust.

With any luck, by this time next year I’ll be able to thank Kevin. I’ll thank him by flying him on my private jet made of gold to a secluded island inhabited solely by beautiful, big tittied naked women. In the weeks, or maybe months to come, Hadafewbeers.com is going to move off of the WordPress servers and onto a self-hosted server, thanks to Kevin. I’m doing that because I want to run advertisements here and make a boobillion dollars. If that’s not feasible (and oddly enough, some folks think it’s not), I’d at least like this endeavor pay for itself..

That seems like a reasonable goal, and we all need goals beyond the usual, “I will now drink that beer in 8.75 seconds while in the downward facing dog position.” (That’s why my beer love has sustained all these years. Me and beer like to mix it up)

I promise the ads will not be a distraction, and will only infect your computer with photos of my testicles, because unlike Fran, Jesse and Kevin, I care about you, the readers.

My all-time favorite GG Cleavage shot.

My all-time favorite GG Cleavage shot.

And last, but certainly not least, I have to champion GG. Ain’t no fucking way I can forget GG. She sends me on-demand cleavage shots for use here. Like Fran she yells at me a lot. GG even had her own stalker her who was angry I referred to her boobs as boobs and not breasts (link, read the comments). For me, having an on-demand cleavage model already makes this blog a success. How many blog do you know that have one? That’s right, none! BOOYA! This shit is so tight it has an on-demand cleavage model! Thanks GG, and thanks the twins for me too, will you?

I wasn't kidding anyone was I? THIS is my favorite GG cleavage shot.

I wasn’t kidding anyone was I? THIS is my favorite GG cleavage shot.

There have been six different guest bloggers (not counting Fran – who runs the place) and I’d be a total asshat if I didn’t thank them all. Without exception, each of their pieces made me laugh, and now 100 posts later I’m envisioning what a tickle fight between the three female writers would look like. I’m envisioning it happening in bras and panties. Maybe just panties. Are you envisioning that too? Good.

Anyway here’s a list of each of their contributions and an exciting poll!  Vote for your favorite and vote for that favorite often!

Hot Blonde chick hates Valentine’s Day

Dude tries spicy lemonade diet, fails miserably

G-Gank Ganks the Gank

Shaezychick‘s not fond of boy in orange banana hammocks 

Hot Brunette chick’s pissed off at valentine’s day!

Guys and Gals can be friends!

Finally to all 60k+ of you that have read this thing so far, thanks. Seriously, it’s a lot of fun but if no one was looking, you can bet I wouldn’t bother.

Boobies!

Four easy things you can do to help Sgt. 1st Class Walter Taylor. Also boobs and beer.


This update is all about four easy things you can do to help Sgt. 1st Class Walter Taylor because here at www.hadafewbeers.com we’re all about the charity. And beer. And boobs.

For anyone that needs a recap about Taylor’s situation here’s the link, because finding new ways to describe the same situation, over and over again, ain’t fun and we like fun here …

So let’s hit it with some easy stuff you can do to help raise money for Taylor’s defense.

1. Donate, duh.

You can go here. It literally takes three minutes. Click the donate now link, select the amount you want to give (for anything over $30 you get a free bumper sticker), add your personal information and bam, you’re a great American.

Seriously, you’re a great American if you do that. Look giving to charity IS a good thing I think we all agree but most charities have a marketing campaign and/or a marketing staff of professionals. Taylor has me, retarded blogger that makes sauna boner and boob jokes, and someone named Diane in Texas that I’ve never met. Hey Diane!

2. You can repost this AND I don’t mean just on Facebook (but totally repost

Hey FB friends, you should totally give money and read this dude’s blog. It’s about a wounded warrior AND boobs.

this on facebook and ask your friends to do that same!)

I doubt it will come as a shock to anyone that the internet consists of more than just Facebook and porn. An amazing four percent of internet content isn’t even related to Facebook or pornography; I know that fact because I just made it up.

Rick, yeah Army guys vs. Dinosaurs on Rick’s BMW hood, frequents a BMW forum. I know this because Rick once told me.

Rick: “Yeah I was on the BMW discussion form and one of the members, BMWBONER09, told us how you can totally reprogram your key to automatically deflate the tires dude.”

Me: “Rick you are so fucking weird.”

Actually that’s a pretty typical exchange between Rick and I, but I digress.

Point is if you frequent an online forum of any sort, mention Taylor’s plight there. Whether it’s the World of Warcraft’s “DROODS RULE DUDEZ” forum or the “Hello kitty super fun time forum” that you frequent, bring it up there … this is all about getting the word out.

Word of caution though I did it on two forums I frequent and got my shit handed to me by some of the more liberal, skeptical posters. I’m a big kid though and I can take it. And by ‘take it’ I mean I cried, literally, like a little girl.

Finally if you do this, post a comment here or send me an email (oliveritay@gmail.com) … I’ll lend a hand if I can.

3. Do something local

HAVE A BAKE SALE! Okay I’m totally fucking kidding on that one, don’t have a bake sale, unless you REALLY, REALY want to have a bake sale and in that case knock your socks off. What I mean by local though is ask a local organization to consider doing something to help Taylor. Ask your local VFW or American Legion if they would consider helping. I’m a member of bowling team, because I hate myself, and I’m going to ask the league for permission to solicit donations. I figure who feels more sympathetic toward wounded veterans facing stiff legal fees than bowlers? Shocked that didn’t come to me sooner!

What this blogs about boobs AND wants money for charity … this is the best idea since the romans put the christians and the lions in the same event. I also stole that, totally, from Black Adder.

4. Give us suggestions about how we can raise money

Look most of my blog entries here are about Dagmar outwitting me, beer, Dagmar outwitting me, boobs, Dagmar outwitting me and boobs. Also I like to talk about boobs, so there’s that.

Point is that there aren’t any cute photos of kittens and puppies that need loving home or videos of vicious 12-year-olds ‘attacking’ grandma ala Karen Klein (I just rolled my eyes) there’s just a brave soldier facing serious charges and a crapton of legal bills.

But if you have an idea about what I, or anyone else, could do to help raise cash lay it on me (oliveritaly@gmail.com). When I started blogging about this less than $2,000 had been raised and today, less than a week later, it’s up to almost $5,000. That’s because of you all! Awesome everyone, have a beer on me! While still short of the goal that’s $3,000 in less than seven days.

Post a comment here or send me an email, let me know what your idea is … Mine is a contest where the highest donation totally get a beer and sweet boobs picture.

When I die. Boobs and booze … seriously boobs and booze, or so I hope.


We all die.  We all also poop so the statement that we all die is about as shocking as that, when you boil it down.  Also the sun will rise tomorrow.

I want to give very specific instructions here about what should happen when I finally pass but realize, “well fuck I’ll be dead” so do whatever you want to with my dead ass.

I’ll give guidance and hope it’s followed.

Let’s just launch into that list and see who is in charge of what …

Adrian Schulte and Sarah Leslie get to pick the music.    I hope they fight over it, honestly I do, but they get to choose the tunes.    Back off peeps, I decreed from up above they get the final say.  If they pick anything by Celine Dion then that’s what it is.   They are further authorized to tattoo my dead body but only with Gary Larson “Far side” tattoos … they know what that means.

They also have to pick a wake venue that equals slip-and-slide level awesome but also incorporates hot tubs.  I suggest slip and slide into a hot tub but you’re both in charge.

yeah I have a woman I can turn too when I need a quick turnaround, original cleavage shot … don’t you?

yeah I have a woman I can turn too when I need a quick turnaround, original cleavage shot … don’t you?

Gina Gray I bequeath you ‘toplessness’.  Meaning you don’t have to be topless but I demand, DEMAND in the sense that I will haunt every woman that disobeys this order, all the women be topless during my wake.  Small tits, don’t care.  Big tits, don’t care.  Floppy tits, not an issue at all either.  I want all tits on full display at my wake.   Gina make this so.  GG … you have awesome tits, be the only chick at the wake with a top on.  You are authorized three other “exempt” rulings.    Use them wisely.

Rob Gowen also has to follow Gina around the entire time wearing flip flops, boxer shorts and a brown tee-shirt with a bottle of hair gel demanding of everyone, “where is my hair gel.” This will make me happy as I look on from the ever-after.

Mike Gianeeeteee …. You sir will ensure everyone is drunk as shit. 

If my grave isn’t muddy with beer (and piss) you fucked up. 

Don’t fuck up. 

Someone has to later donate me to a medical college.   I want college kids who will later view my autopsied corpse to go “HOLY fuck those lungs are torn up.  That is the most fucked up liver I ever saw and holy shit that’s a big dick!  Which is also why I expect Ray Coley to … never mind.

I want Nick Sternberg and Jerry O’hara to shoot 9 mm (13 rounds) in to the air, Saddam Hussein style … while drinking beers.

Ruth Sternberg has to ensure my foreskin is reattached.  If my foreskin cannot be located, she gets to direct a reenactment of that Monty Python skit where a ton of topless chicks chase a condemned man over a cliff.   I suggest you get Rick Bumgardner to help with the camera work.

I also give Rick my collection of plastic army men and dinosaurs.

I expect Maggie and Alex to supervise it all, I suggest an elaborate system utilizing clipboards, reading glasses, annoying whistles and safety vests. Don’t forget disapproving looks when some lady shows up and refuses to be topless.

Darcy Debase, bet you didn’t see this coming, you have to cater it.     I liked ribs.  So it should be ribs.  You should also be topless, figure it out.

Side note to Gina: There are no pasties allowed (Darcy will totally try to weasel out that way). 

Gina already knows this.  I’m just reinforcing the message.

Bron Berry has to show up and proclaim, “Holy boobs!”  You also have to announce a best tits winner.    From the crowd I mean.

Maggie and Alex will have to organize a best boobs contest, because that’s how I would have wanted it and because I just wrote that thing about Bron being a boobie judge and crap.

Dagmar, one year after my death, has to go online to buy something and surf for the highest price.  If she finds the same spatula for sale for $20 and $40 she has to buy the $40 one.   She also has to yell out during the wake, “That mother fucker fucked me again!”  I’ll be giggling from the afterlife I assure you.

Val Henderson and Lynn Davis will print out every post on this blog and hand correct, with red pen, the untold millions of grammatical, spelling and WTF errors.   They will then pass them out to the people in attendance.  They’ll be topless so you won’t mind.

Mike Lavigne has to take over this blog.   He also has to rename it, “Was that Todd dude a dick or what?”  I’d suggest asking Jesse for ideas Mike.

Matt and Marni Sandberg have to proclaim loudly during the funeral while whatever Christian priest you all pick is talking, “I thought he was Jewish?”

Mel Raymond and Mellissa Novakovich are in charge of snark, turn it up to 11 ladies.   They’ll understand why they were paired the minute they meet.  Also fuck you both.

Chad Oliver gets my remote control helicopter IF he promises to annoy Amanda once a week with it.

Eric and Bianca get my beer fridge, full circle kids.

Little Edward Oliver gets a car.  Nothing that exceeds like 30K IN TODAY’S prices so don’t be bankrupting my widow.   Also if he doesn’t have one, his own computer.

Leila and Jill get all revenues from my many super top-secret iPhone game ideas.   Hint they all suck and will garner like $2 at best.

Bucky, start raising funds now, this is gonna cost us.  By us I mean you.   I want a shit ton of hot tubs …