This reminds me of the time I took my ex-girl to see a David Copperfield impersonator in Reno, Nevada.  Magicians freak me out, so when we arrived, I went out back to smoke a little Devil’s Vagina and saw two homeless men hitting each other with those smoked sausages you get around Christmas time.  I really needed to smoke, so I carried on despite the meat beating that was occurring.  After they were nice and roughed up, they shared the sausages with a little dumpster wine.  I arrived back at the show just before the magician hit the stage.  Turns out that one of the homeless men was actually the magician.  He called my girlfriend onto the stage to volunteer in the ol’ “saw the lady in half” trick…  yada, yada, yada… today, I’m out one scrumptious fox of a woman and that sausage pounding ass-clown is on death row for murder in the first degree along with 17 counts of child molestation.  Anyway, here’s the video…



About Barry McCockener

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I spend my weekends encrypting ancient Swahili tribal mating calls that may or may not hold the secret to curing the disease known as “Gingerism,” or having hair of a reddish hue. In the winter months, I am often found discovering new aquatic species off the coast of Antarctica and in the summer months, clearing the Death Valley sands of extraterrestrial beings that are attempting to hibernate. I used to be 5’10”; however, I decided to grow, so I am now 6’2”. I am lethally talented at Kabaddi, and addicted to the sport of Basketcall, which is similar to basketball, but one must call their shots two possessions before taking them. I play soccer with bowling balls, bench press with my teeth, and can, currently, do 3 cock push ups. I am responsible for Kate Upton’s breasts (you’re welcome), taught Miley how to twerk (sorry), and, when I was 5, I sold the rights to all of my jokes to David Lappelle, whom you now know as Dave Chappelle. If you would like to reach me by phone, please visit the pay phone outside of Stadion Bilino Polje in Zenica, Bosnia and Herzegovina, where you will dial the tune of the third bar of (I Know) I’m Losing You by Rod Stewart. If I don’t answer, please don’t leave a message, I do not want to talk to you.

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