Spy Games

I just want to go ahead and apologize for leaving you guys hanging over the past week. It's not because I don't love you or because I've gotten lazy... it has more to do with the fact that I have been notified that there is a spy here in my office. This sweet old lady works here part time in a very insignificant role but for some reason she has her wrinkled ass nose in everyone's business. Apparently she can somehow sneak a view of my computer screen if she can look into my window at just the right angle. Last week when I was working on some of the Beasthammer T-Shirts online she was enjoying quite a little show. Then briefly I got on Google Maps to check out some directions and when I get back to work on Monday my friend here tells me that he's heard that this old lady is going around telling all the other gossip queens about how I spend my work day. The best part is she couldn't really see what exactly I was doing so she told everyone that "all he does is shop for T-Shirts all day and look at maps"... ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?! You are going to rat on me and the juiciest thing you got is that I have a shirt fetish and I'm an amateur cartographer? Get a life hoe... if I had known she was staring at my computer all day I would have at least put on some YouTube clips of Matlock.

Dentures In or Dentures Out?

We've got this friend who I will keep anonymous during this post. He has been quite the lady's man over the last few months and it has not gone unnoticed. We don't know what's gotten into him but it seems like every time he goes out drinking he wakes up the next morning in a different girl's bed. Sure, we thought it was cool... maybe even handed out a high five or two but as time went on we started to notice a pattern. These so called "girls" actually ended up being "women" and some of them could even be considered "old women." Now I'm not judging this guy, in fact I'm actually kind of proud of him... after all he is the only GILF slayer I know personally and there is definitely something to be said about that. Nursing homes... you are officially on notice!

Payments

I have had some people inquire about how to actually buy some of these shirts. To make it simple you have two options. The first way is to click on the shirt in the previous post and buy it directly from www.zazzle.com.
The other way is to email me (hammeringbeast@gmail.com) letting me know what shirt you want, what size you want, your address and if you want the shirt that has the picture on the back you'll have to let me know what picture you want. I will then order the shirt and have it sent you. As soon as I place the order I will send a request for payment to your email account from pay-pal. Simple enough.

For Sale

Ok, I know I have been messing around with different kinds of T Shirts and merchandise but I think this shirt is going to set the tone for the BeastHammer clothing line. Simply click on the picture below and you will be redirected to Zazzle (a legit site) and you can see the front and back view and the different colors offered.

BEASTHAMMER>See more Beasthammer T-Shirts

I Heart BEASTHAMMER>Create a personalized dog t-shirt at zazzle

Cold Hands Anyone?

Why not keep those little paws of yours warm and dry with the new Beasthammer Koozie...

Make custom t-shirts at CustomInk.com

Horseshoes & Hand Grenades pt. 2

This is a follow up to my last horseshoe post where I laid out my design for my horseshoe pits...

Thanks to a little help from my friends Jacob & Nick I think we were able to recreate my vision pretty well... even got the cup holders on there.

Fashion Thought of the Day

I see this quite a bit and every time I do I'm completely blown away. Allow me to paint you a little picture of what I'm talking about with some words.

So you walking down the street, shuffling around the mall, touring your campus or just kickin it at a goat f*cking contest when out of nowhere you see something that frightens you and immediately has your brain working overtime to come up with an exit strategy. You have just encountered a large black man... either by himself or in a group, makes no difference. You're scared and rightfully so, it's not like you've never seen the movie Boyz in the Hood or Belly. He's got the braids pulled neatly back. He's got the neck-tat of some girl's name in cursive that he dated in high school. He's got the oversized White Tee on with the "Jesus Piece" hanging down. Below that he's got either some saggy gym shorts on or some even saggier jorts. Who knows, maybe even a gun or some brass knuckles hiding under there somewhere... not to mention he's probably packing the kind of man meat we've only seen on livestock and if you have your girl with you he's most likely already eye raped her. All this is then complimented with what? Timberlands? Air Force Ones? Ugz? Not even close, this guy is wearing old slip on sandals with WHITE SOCKS! Are you effin kidding me? Nerdy white kids in middle school couldn't even pull this off and you think it is okay?! I can't even wrap my head around the thought process you have to have to dress yourself, look in a full length mirror and walk out into public with other humans.

My First Night in Prison... Continued

This is a follow up to the post where I was arrested for ripping a street sign out of the ground and throwing out into the middle of the street. After I arrived at the Pitt County Prison and went through all the formalities of getting my mugshot and finger prints done it was probably close to 3:00 in the morning. They finally put me in one of the holding cells up front with a few other people and I was so tired that all I wanted to do was lay on the floor and get a little bit of sleep. I couldn't have been asleep longer than an hour when the cell door opened and an officer was calling my name. Could it already be time for me to go home? Did someone come pick me up? Absolutely not. (Turned out that nobody even knew I was had been arrested until about 3:00 pm the next day). Nope I wasn't leaving, they were moving me to another cell... back in the actual prison block. It's 4:00 am and I really don't care at this point as long as I can lay down somewhere.

I'm still in my street clothes at this point and apparently before you can be put back in the actual prison cells you have to be wearing the prison issued wardrobe. This consists of a bright orange jumpsuit, lime green flip flops and for some awful reason you also have to wear their tightie whitie underwear. Wow, that's a bit much but hey, who cares, it'll all be over by morning. The officer takes me and another guy to an empty cinder block room and to my horror we are told to change into our new outfit right there in front of them... they won't even lets us turn around. Needless to say I had a problem with this particular protocol. I was being treated like a terrorist but I was still so drunk and tired I couldn't resist authority properly. Honestly, once I got past all my homophobia and self esteem issues the jumpsuit was actually quite delightful.

Intervention?

So I have this friend who's addiction practically ruined his whole life. Just as his friends and family were about to perform an intervention he miraculously beat this addiction all by himself. One day he just quit, cold turkey. Amen... my friend is no longer addicted to Farmville on Facebook.

The other day when I was at his house I noticed that his back yard was looking on point. He's got all kinds of plants growing, the grass is green, the lawn is mowed and everyday around 6pm you can find him out there strategically moving a sprinkler around to cover every square inch of that yard. It's almost like he's... what for it...what for it... ADDICTED to yard work. We came to the conclusion that his nice looking backyard was simply a result of him weening himself off of Farmville. Pretty soon his back yard will look like sh*t and he'll just have a small plant or two that he keeps on the window sill and the final step will be no horticulture at all. Keep fighting the good fight buddy.

Vegas Baby

I heard this story last night about what happened to my friend Steve while they were in Vegas a few weeks ago for my boy Todd's bachelor party. Apparently Steve got separated from the guys sometime around 3:30am. At this point there is no way Steve is anything short of pants-sh*tting blackout drunk. He jumps in a cab and asks to be dropped off at the Palms Hotel but the driver turns around and asks him if he's sure he wants to go there because he knows of nice little place for him to get a late night massage. Who wouldn't take that offer?? Steve knows an opportunity when he sees it so he agrees and the cab drops him off at some shady massage parlor. Once inside he agrees to a 30 minute "massage" from 2 of the nice young ladies working there for a seemingly normal charge of $250. They show him to his room, he de-pants himself and lays up on the table. A few moments later one of the girls walks in and apologizes that her partner won't be joining them but he is still guaranteed to get an excellent "massage" and I guess he was okay with that.

The 30 minutes go by and I think he is shocked to find out that it was actually just a massage. She tells him its over and he will have to knock down that woody all by himself. Saddened, my friend Steve gets dressed, heads out to the front, they hand him some receipts and he gets sent on his way. Here's the kicker, while he was getting his massage the ladies at the front ran his credit card 3 different times for a total or approximately $2,300. He turns to go back inside and start bitch slappin people but the doors are now locked and the lights are off. He finally heads back to the hotel and early the next day him and some of the guys return to the parlor but it is closed. I believe he got caught in a classic scam called the "swoop & squat." He is currently disputing the charges with his credit card company. All you can do is tip your hat to Vegas on this one. I wouldn't be surprised if the cabbie was in on the scam too.

Pet Peeve of the Day

I almost made it out the door of work before this train wreck of awfulness happened in front of my office. One of the ladies that works here came parading her granddaughter around obviously fishing for compliments. It worked, one by one a number of middle aged women came out oooing and ahhhing when one of the ladies noticed a bit of jewelry the baby had on and that's when the sh*t hit the fan for me. "Oh my gootness, look at all that bling bling on your gran-baby." Then another lady chimes in with another original thugerism, "Ohhh would you look at that! She knows what the word bling means! Look at her little eyes light up when we say bling." Then miss ghetto fab herself chimes in with, "Oh yeah guurl, she knows about the bling bling already."

I'm sorry... are we at work still or on the set of the new Soulja Boy video? Why must they talk like that? They are 50 year old white women from the south, not 16 year old ghetto girls from 2001. These people are lucky I'm not packin.

Spreading the Love

Thanks to Cinco De Mayo I'm that guy at work today... you know, the one that slowly makes his way through the office crop dusting the entire floor? That's me today. I agree it is inappropriate but the great thing about a well executed crop dusting, it that it is virtually untraceable and I'm as much a victim as everybody else which lessens the guilt. This is not something I'm proud of... Nobody was safe today.

Happy Cinco De Mayo

My favorite thing about this fantastic holiday is that it seems to me like young white males will celebrate harder than any actual Mexican person ever could. I got an email from one of my buddies today about what we were going to do tonight to celebrate... I've pasted my reply below. Party hard and stay thirsty my friends.

PS... Google is having trouble loading the correct picture size so you'll have to click on the pictures to see the actual size so you can read it.