IWS Person of the Week: Matt-Man Bitches!!

As always…If it’s Sunday, it’s time for the IWS Person of the Week, and this week boy howdy do we have something special planned for you.

Typically, we look outside of the inner-sanctum and cloistered halls of IWS Radio and look for someone who has made news in the world during the week.  But this week?

We have done a 180 with our necks, and looked within our very own staff, and we pronounce Matt-Man, who just turned 50, our IWS Radio Person of the Week…

Matt-Man, while humble and gentile (and by that I mean he is GENTEEL, not that he is a non-Jew, although he is) has had a history of bringing the girls to the yard, and those lucky girls always remember their first time, and delight in it…

As skillful as he is with the ladies, Matt-Man also has the enate ability to appear considerate and act like he actually cares what you are talking about…

He really doesn't, but he does what he has to do in order for everyone that he meets to feel comfortable, unless of course…

You are one of those idiots who feels that flashing a Peace Sign is all the rage, and then?  Well…He is none to happy…

So here’s to IWS Radio’s very own Matt-Man…Long may he wave, or at least flounder with abandon in the sky, within the damp and cold of the February wind as he keeps an open-mind to new ideas...

Speaking of Matt-Man’s Birthday…He tore it up yesterday and today, IWS Radio will discuss hangovers, birthdays, and mid-life regrets as IWS Radio presents: Sunday Morning Coming Down Hard

Jay, Matt, and the entire IWS Radio gang are going to celebrate birthdays and lend their compassion to more than a few hangovers.

So join Jay, Matt, and IWS Radio LIVE TODAY from Noon-2 PM ET on Blog Talk Radio.

T o listen LIVE click HERE.

Pre-Halloween Hiatus on IWS Radio

IWS Radio has learned that Jay and Matt are very tired and won’t be doing a show this week, but actually, it‘s not because of being physically tired…here ya go…

Matt-Man said to Jayman…

“You know I am really broken up over going through this impending divorce after 28 years…could we take a week off? I am emotionally exhausted.”

And Jay said to Matt something to the effect…Yeah, I’m sure you are bleeding like an Ebola patient inside.

Sometimes Jayman does not take Matt-Man’s sensibilities seriously, but nonetheless, we here at IWS Radio know that Matt-Man was almost emotional about his impending divorce.

So they are taking the week off, and preparing diligently for their October 26 show which will be the IWS Halloween Extravaganza Show (working title of course).

And…

They won’t be posting on the website until October 25th or something…Y’know?  These two idiots have no sense of arithmetic, time, or numbers, so…It may be later and/or earlier.  Who the hell knows, but one thing we do know…

The next IWS Radio Show will air LIVE October 26th from Noon-2 PM ET on Blog Talk Radio, which trust me, doesn't have a clue about numbers either!!

So, we are on a early fall hiatus until the 25th, but in the meantime, you can always catch our last show as we talked Oktoberfest and Divorce…It was a classic!!

IWS Person(s) of the Week...Jay, Matt, and the IWS Radio Players

Jay, Matt, and Team IWS took a week off from the hectic and rambunctious world of internet radio stardom in order to enjoy a little down time, but today?  They are back on the airwaves and funnier than ever (if that's possible.)

And because of that...Jay, Matt, and the IWS Radio Players are our IWS Persons of the Week...

Guy Ahnyurdyck enjoyed a little R and R last week with with Rihanna...

Our producer Dex Lexler enjoyed some Tecate and frivolity up at Hodgepodge Lodge...

One of our Bagwine office interns had his vacation plans take a turn for the worse...

We'll find out for sure today what Jayman did on his vay-cay, but he was thinking about doing a little drinking and fishing like Babe Ruth used to do...

Yep today from Noon-2 PM ET on Blog Talk Radio, the IWS Boys are back and feeling tan, rested, and ready to serve up some comedy...

So join Jay, Matt and the IWS Radio Team today LIVE from Noon-2 PM ET as they bring the funny and discuss their hilarious time away from stardom during the Our Vay-Cay Was Cray-Cray episode of IWS Radio.

To join the fun you can click right HERE!!

Elliot Rodger May Have a Manifesto, But I Have a Mattifesto!!

Y’know?  It’s seems like every dissed boy like Elliott Rodger and unhappy man gets to write a manifesto before he enacts his infinite justice upon people. And you know what?  If the serial killers, and mass murderers have that right, so do I.

So to wit and heretofore, or whatever, is my manifesto, or as I call it…My Mattifesto.

Mrs. Stephenson, my kindergarten teacher…

You treated your kids like crap, and even though eighty years old at the time with your red, bouffant hairstyle which didn't lend itself to great air circulation and a better and more effective swing, your smack on the ass always hurt.  Annnnnnnd, even though you have been dead for years…you suck.

To my eighth grade English teacher, Mrs. Corle…I am sorry that at fourteen years of age I knew more about the English language than you, but that was no reason to give me an A in my work and a three in my effort grade, which reads…“careless or incomplete effort.”

Sometimes…I think maybe, you were hurt that I didn’t want to have sex with you, but, whatever, and I regret it too, because your painted nails, and frosted wig were pretty hot to a fourteen year old boy.

Janice Gohm who I had as an instructor in British Lit 150 at Bowling Green…I am sorry I recited and made fun of Hemingway while sucking on your left tit, but c’mon…was that any reason to ditch me for a running back on the BGSU football team?  I didn't think so.

And to Beth Ann Perkins?  You nominated me for a scholarship in Philosophy…While I didn't get it, that hug we shared was worth more than a scholarship to me, so?  You’re safe, and I think of you often, and? You're free to go.

To Donna... Remember when I passed out, face down in your crotch?  I’m sorry that your vagina exuded the smell of Ny-Quil, but damn it, it made me sleepy and there is no reason to hate me for it.  It was but a physiological response, not a human response.

And in addition to the aforementioned women, some guys such as Joe Aker, Jim Stewart, Tucker Carlson, Sean Hannity and the like; you are going down.

Not by the gun and knife of some disturbed, and troubled privileged punk like Elliot Rodgers, but rather by the willingness to ignore you all, and forget about you.

Unlike the disturbed and hateful manifesto of Elliot Rodger, my manifesto is about going on, and going past, but you know what still troubles me?

I actually do hate my wife and remain disappointed in my son, and it bothers me, but unlike Elliot Rodgers, I wouldn't kill them.

My revenge would be for her to explain her reasons for keeping my son from me as she squirms, and hear his reasons for feeling the pressure to comply with her demands.

But perhaps Ryno, not being permitted, nor taking full advantage of me per orders of his Teutonic keeper, is a self-fulfilling revenge machine, and a tragic flaw initiated by his mom.

Either way…I’m not happy where this is concerned.  But…Whatever…I'm not gonna kill anyone over it.

Cheers!!

Matt-Man
mattmaniws@ymail.com
@mattman_iws
My Facebook Page

Pre-Mature Sleep

Hi everybody.  It's me, Schmoop!!

On behalf of Matt-Man, I am apologizing for him not putting today's post up last night., y'see?

Bitterly cold air and working seven days a week at the Beer Mine don't mix too well.

Oh sure...Matt and Jay put out another awesome IWS Radio show last night, but after that, my baby was out...cold.

The show was over around 10:03 PM...Matt laid down on the couch "for a few minutes" at 10:06 PM, and that was the end of that.

In fact, he was so tired, that when I laid on top of him in order to see if I could get Mr. Winkie to come out and play, after a few minutes, instead of hearing Schmoop-Fueled pleasures of moaning all I heard from him was...

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

That's a tired boy right there!!

But, like I said, the boys did put on a great show.  Dusty Sandman, Rev. Moneymaker, Stubby Stonehenge, and Bobby Kraft were there as well.

So give it a listen today because it's too damn cold outside to do anything else.




Zoooooooves,

Schmoop!!

Facebook Confirms What We All Knew...Matt-Man Rocks!!

Greetings…Cheers…and a Happy Hump Day to You All!!

Matt-Man here for IWS Radio today and recently, my spirits have been lifted exponentially; I am awash in a sea of validation as a human being, and my typically almost non-existent ego is expanding as quickly as the universe.

Let me tell you, folks…

Yesterday, Jayman wrote a great post about a handful of prominent scumbags and assholes who exist in American society today, but you know who isn’t an asshole, and who in fact, is one well-liked son of a bitch?

This Guy!!

I know…You are saying to yourselves…

“Gee, how do you know this?  Did you have a poll conducted by the polling agency called, Me, Myself, and I?”

Not at all…I used a polling firm far more accurate than Gallup.  Far more in-depth than IPSOS.  And totally more hard to spell than Quinnipiac.

I used Facebook.  That’s right!!

You see, this past Sunday, I posted on my Facebook page…

“What, if anything, do you like about me?”

After posting that question on my timeline, and awaiting the comments, I sat glued to my screen expecting few comments , or a handful of comments full of scorn and ridicule, however…

I received comments such as the following…

“I like the way you smoke multiple cigarettes at the same time.”

“You have no bias…you insult all equally.”

“You crack me up and cook a lot.”  Which corroborates the following comment…

“You amuse me.  I also admire your mad culinary skills.  You really know your way around a can of Spam.”

See how my uber-likeability is trending?  People dig me!!

From a well-read and published author of the male sex…“Your calves, when you wear high heels…”

Our very own IWS resident Lemon Poppy Seed maker Missalicious, chimed in with…

“You’re a good egg.”

And by that, I am sure that Miss means that I am full of protein and can be either a main course, or an elegantly pretty egg wash sheen atop a bundle of muffins.  Which makes perfect sense, because the uber-sultry Carly said of me…

“You are shiny.”

Word.  And thank you.

There were many other comments that said among other nice things, that I was very likeable because, “what you see, is what you get.”

Really…I do like that, and I appreciate those comments the most, because for bad or good, I like to keep it that way.

I will say…There was one comment that disturbed me…A long time friend, who happens to be a nurse, responded to my question of, what do you like about me, by saying…

“Not a damn thing.”

It’s hurtful to know that the poison of Obamacare has sunk down to the bedside caretaker level, and washed away all humanity and compassion.  But, I will recover…You know why?

People on Facebook, and mainly chicks on Facebook, dig me!!

Cheers!!

Matt-Man

mattmaniws@ymail.com
@mattman_iws
My Facebook Page

Just Say Fuck It! And Listen to IWS Radio

Cheeeeeers!!

Y’know?  Something really not good happened yesterday.  What’s that you ask?

I think I may have grown up!!

IKR?

At the ripe old age of 48 plus, Matt-Man may have hit the mercury mark and as the mercurial metal of time and temperature rises, he says unto himself…

“I should really start acting my age…Okay, I should really act like I’m nearly 50...Fuck it, but can I at least have some sense of grown-up decency before I die for Godssakes and go out on top as an adult male, you old man!!?”

Y’know?  I think about my own demise…I don’t think of it in terms of how it will be regaled like the Lady of Shallot’s boyfriend being sailed down the river in a pine box, but I think that…

Considering my family history, I am not long for this world in relative terms of time and space, however, and here is what drives me…

I am doing what I want to  do, and dare I say, what I was meant to do.

I remember a couple of years ago, my wife, the uber-toxic Janet said to me…

“I told Ryno (my son) that if he didn’t he didn’t start getting better grades, he would end up working at a Drive-Thru like Dad.”

To which I thought to myself…

“This is the same woman who when I had a chest tube in me, asked if it would reach to the ATM Machine!!”

Nonetheless, it hurt my feelings…on both counts.

But over the last couple of years, while I used to carry anger toward her, I have chucked it away because really…

Can a sane person, really ask a hospital patient with over a gallon of lung funk in his body for money?  No, and a sane, self-described Christian person, doesn’t ask that of him.

So?  I just chalk her comments of hatred and belittlement of me up to, well…hurt, anger, and…bipolar craziness.

M’eh, I just don’t care anymore about that, and I am done knocking her…although it is quite fun, helps me to vent, and give a little of the same back to her from what I took from her the past thirteen years.

Of course, I would never claw her face, push her into the pantry, nor spit in her face like she did me.  What?

Anyhoo…

Yeah, I was going to start a segment about her on Sunday‘s Season Four IWS premier, but eh, it would just make me mad, and I don’t want that.

So instead, I chose to write about it, and now I feel better.

I know that this was not the funniest post ever, but maybe now, come Sunday on the IWS Radio Show, I’ll be funnier, because this has really been bothering me, and now?

I have let it go…

Cheers!!

Matt-Man

mattmaniws@ymail.com
@MattMan_IWS
My Facebook Page

Friendship....Albeit Random

Cheers Chuckleheads…

Matt-Man here on a Hump Day and I am feeling random, so…

Here are some of my random thoughts.

Does Anthony Weiner love all women except for his wife?  Or?

Is he purging himself?

If a chick on Facebook whom I have known since second grade, looks me up, sends me a message, and I still find her hot, does that make me a pedophile?

A rose by any other name, would smell as sweet….Sorry Shakespeare guy, you don’t know the Rose Harbinger of 1027 Dartmouth St., that I know!!

Will the Bengals win their division this year?  I really don’t care; I just hope we sell a lot of beer during the NFL season this year.

If I ended this post now, would Jayman be upset with me?

Probably so, but/and/or I will continue anyway, because my OCD compels me to.

I asked my Facebook friend Amy Killeen to send me a message on Facebook last night.  Isn’t that sad?

Hell yes it is, but…she did, and then we chatted for a few.  Amateurs!!

Sometimes?  I’se gots is going on!!

I have a few friends from school days that I talk with on Facebook.  One in particular, had golden hair, large, premature breasts, and the smile of an angel.

I messaged her “Hi” the other day, unfortunately, she remembered me too well and responded…

“Dude…Matt…I had a breast reduction, so just move on.”

While I initially thought that her comment was a bit hurtful, I then thought…

“You know?  It’s nice that I can leave a lasting impression on others, and that they truly know me for who I am.”

Of course she then said…

“But if you’re looking for a good time, I am the woman for you.”

I said…

“Oh Baby!!”

And then she said…

“I knew it.  You’re still a whore.”

I said that I try to stay consistent, and she said…

“Thirty years and you are still the same lovable jerk.”

To which I said, “Hey now.  I’m not a jerk.”

And my longtime friend responded…

“You CAN be a jerk, but that’s okay…because more importantly, you are who you are, and it’s better to be a sarcastic jerk than a fake.”

I was initially stunned, but then I thought…

It IS better to be a sarcastic jerk rather than a fake.

Cheers!!

mattmaiws@ymail.com
@mattman_iws
My Facebook Page

Baby Shower? The Biggest Gift Grab in the World...

Cheeeeeeeers Chuckleheads!!

Let me tell you folks, I have a problem with many of you, and usually I’ll write in character to tell you this, but no, this time?

It’s coming straight from the heart of the Matt-Man.

First of all, let me give props to Jay, Schmoop, Spock, Brother Marty, and the ever elusive Miss.

While I don’t talk to a couple of these people often at length, they all know what’s goin’ on.

Secondly, you people under the age of forty…

What the fuck is wrong with you?

Last night, on Facebook, I saw a child, and by child, I mean a married adult with one, lately impregnated, already split duh womb child bearing chick, asking around for a maternity photographer.

I offered to take pictures of her heaving vagina free, but that is not what she was talking about.  She was talking about family pictures while she was pregnant.  WTF?

Ya can’t do that yourself?

Evidently, nowadays, and with the nowadays prima donnas, one needs baby fat, family friendly freeze frames done prior to spittin’ out a baby done photogged by a pro.!!

If I had access to the IWS soundboard right now, I would hit the audio file that says….

“Who…duh hell…carrrrrrrrrrrrrres?”  Amirite!?

It’s fine to have baby pics, but who needs a picture of your huge, amniotic fluid rich belly, and a pic of a pink/blue baby right out of the womb?

No One!!  Not even YOU!!

Yes, I know that you and you baby are the most precious things on Earth, but seriously?  Shut the fuck up and quit throwing baby showers for yourself.  Or better yet?

Every time that you complain after the birth of your unborn, yet photogenic son and/or daughter you have to donate five dollars to a worthy cause…such as NARAL.

It’s nice that you threw yourself a baby shower, but really?  That best gift that that baby could get, is knowing that while baby showers are great, life can be hard…always an exceptional experience, but at times, difficult nonetheless.

And if you missed Jay and I LIVE yesterday on the IWS Radio Show, you can catch all the hilarity right HERE:

Cheers!!

Matt-Man

mattmaniws@ymail.com
@mattman_iws
My Facebook Page

The FBI and IWS...OMG and WTF!!?

Good Thursday morning to those of you in attendance on the IWS website today.

I am Special Agent Burt Orange with the Federal Bureau of Investigation, or as you civilians call it…The FBI.

Specifically, I am the Special Agent within the Bureau’s, Domestic Chicanery and Shenanigans Unit (DCSU).

At the behest of the Department of Justice, my unit Chief one Rex Fern, ordered me to immediately begin an investigation into Matt-Man and Jayman dba IWS World Media Entertainment Group…aka IWS Radio…aka Matty Vegas and Premium Jay Enterprises LLC.

I began my thorough, if not illegal investigation (which we code named Operation Heartache) of the alleged satirical duo at 0600 hours on 10 October 2012.

I bugged their offices.  Tapped their phones.  Procured their emails.  Talked to members of their vast and diverse worldwide audience, and…

Masquerading as a physician, I even talked with their friend Schmoop after drugging her up prior to her bile duct surgery which took place precisely at 0730 hours on 14 December 2012 just as I had planned.

Yessssssssss.  As any good FBI agent will tell you, a few congealed and well-placed butternut squash seeds can invoke bile duct distress and parlay more yellow skin than a China man in and on a person in a matter of hours.

While much of what I have gleaned about these two is still classified as of, 0000 hours on 23 May 2013, I can speak to a few things about these two that are most disturbing if you happen to be an American citizen in good standing.

Neither of them attend Church. If they do attend a religious service, it is only because there is a funeral of someone they know, and even then, they attend not out of respect, but merely for the free snacks afterward.

Jayman has oft times forced his own mother into what can only be described as a Gray Haired Labor Camp, as she is regularly ordered to record alleged funny bits for the IWS Radio Show.

Matt-Man has many times plied his “unmarried harlot of a friend” with alcohol so she will record a bumper that tells the world just how damn naked she is, while he and Jayman force her to pee on the air.

What type of sick, twisted, and anti-American minds do these types of things..?

Domestic Terrorists, that’s who!!  And their House of Marked Cards?  It’s foundation cast in sand is about to tumble.

Oh sure, these two freedom hating bastards yuk it up every Sunday on the air and every day on this website, but while they are “innocently” yukking it up, they are intentionally poisoning the minds of our children, our grandchildren, and the American public.

Oh my Dear God in Heaven!!  They even bastardized the beauty that is Mother’s Day recently on their radio show…

They had on a wonderful mother of modest temper and modest means, and had the audacity to ask her what color underwear she was wearing?!!

Because she was sucked in and helpless against their evil, mind melding, terrorist tactics, this sweet, modest mother replied…

What color is wet!?

Oh the humanity!!  If I had a court order to gun down both of these, Fabric of Our Nation Ripping Apart Sunzabitches, I would do so…IMMEDIATELY!!

As God as my witness to my outing of these two hooligans and haters, I know that I have served my country, and have served her well.

Until I see them and you at their Congressional Hearing and/or court trial,

Agent Orange

mattmaniws@ymail.com
@mattman_iws

New Year's Resolutions

Cheers, and Good Day…

This is an introspective Matt-Man writing today about the end of a year gone bad, a year of hope and inspiration turned sour, and personal resolutions I am bound and determined to make over the upcoming Year of our Lord, 2013.

The year of 2012 started off well for me. In fact, the first nine and a half months were nothing but sunny skies, climbing ratings, and flowing wine…and then?

Tragedy struck when my best friend, soul mate, and bane of reason for my existence, Schmoop, took ill in late-October, thereby shattering our stained glass window of happiness and success, and kicking us to the curb of life just like the Gospels of Thomas and Mary Magdalene being kicked out of inclusion into the Bible, lo those many centuries ago…or something.

Anyhoo…

Some things that I do, and some character flaws that I have depress even me, so I am going to work on those and hopefully improve my karma, and thereby my life and luck, and hope that the fickle face of fate smiles down upon Schmoop and I in 2013.

I am going to eat healthier.  We are big fans of frozen pizzas here in the Bagwine digs, but sometimes I devour a Totino’s Triple Meat Pizza.  I think that perhaps this year, when I decide on a frozen Totino’s pizza, I will curb my carnivorous avarice and go with a mere pepperoni or sausage pizza.  Why do I have to eat THREE meats when one will suffice?

I am going to discontinue being such a sarcastic prick, especially on Facebook.  I mean, c’mon?  Sure, I laugh out loud in the confines of my living room as I make fun of others, but seriously, where does it get me? Nowheresville, that’s where.

I have been drinking a lot of Wild Irish Rose lately.  What does that do for me?  Nothing…I mean, other than waking up with a hangover, and having remembrances of a dream that involved me in a three way with Anna Nicole Smith and Jayne Mansfield, and last I checked, they are both still dead.  Sad.

So...I'll simply drink more Steel Reserve.

See what I mean?  A lot of this stuff pisses me off about myself , and I need to change these habits and characteristics.

For instance, I am going to become an anti-procrastinator. Sometimes, like tonight, as I write this, I have waited until 10:30 PM to begin to write it, even though we have an unwritten deadline of 12 AM.

No more…No more I tell you!!

As God, you the IWS readers, and an unbelieving Jayman look upon me, I swear that in 2013 I will be a day ahead on my posts.

And lastly, with Schmoop lazying about with three tubes hanging out of her, I know not when I may have sex with her again, but read this now and comprehend it later…

I am done engaging in daily masturbatory experiences involving pictures of  Michelle Keegan…

So there you have it…My New Year’s Resolutions, er…

You know what?  I don’t think I can manage to accomplish all of those, so I think that instead of being depressed and disappointed in all of my flaws, my New Year’s Resolution will be but one very simple one…

I will not only accept all my flaws, but embrace them and expound upon them.  Oh Yeah, this is gonna be a great year!!

Cheers!!

Matt-Man

mattmaniws@ymail.com
@MattMan_IWS


And don't forget to check out the I'm With Stupid Podcast! 

Listen to internet radio with Im With Stupid on Blog Talk Radio

The Oscar Mayer Wienermobile...Finally, In Safe Hands

Cheeeeeers Chuckleheads!!

As you may or may not know, July is National Hot Dog Month here in these manifested and destined states of ours, so it is only fitting that I speak today about one of my dreams in life.

Something that I the Matt-Man, would love to make come to fruition.  I want to be able to someday say…

“I own the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile.”

Let me tell you something folks…I have always wanted to own that smooth riding wiener. And if I did..?

It would no longer be known as the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile.  It would simply be known as, Matt-Man’s Wiener.

Oh Dear God!!  I would have such fun tooling town around with my huge and sporty looking wiener, as the townsfolk gawk in amusement and amazement at my gigantic, smooth handling wiener.

From the North Side to the South Side, to the East Side to the West Side, Bagwine denizens would know that Matt-Man’s wiener is, The Ride.

It would be fun to drive through town and with my wiener, lovingly tap the rear end of every hot chick driving a car.

Or pull up to some punk in a hot old Camaro at a stop light, and yell across the lane…

“Hey dude?  Wanna race? ‘Cause even though you think you can; there’s no way in Hell you’re beatin’ my wiener!!”

But it wouldn’t be all fun and games…no.

With my wiener in my possession and my hands firmly in control, comes responsibility, and of course, risk.

I would dread taking my wiener to the grocery, for I know damn well, that some oblivious and self absorbed asshole will carelessly allow their grocery cart to slam into the side of my wiener and leave a mark on my wiener.

Oh sure I’ll take my wiener home and wash it and wax it hoping the mark comes out, but…Oy!!  I just hope somebody doesn’t dent my wiener.

If they did, I would have to apply bondo to my wiener and then ultimately sand and paint my wiener, so it would once again be as smooth and lovely as the day I got it.

I would also take precious care of my wiener.

I would religiously take it to my personal grease monkey, and say things like…

“I need you to change the oil in my wiener, and could you check my wiener’s alignment?  I was driving my girlfriend home the other night and she said that my wiener felt like it was pulling to the left.  It was really making her uncomfortable.

Also…sometimes it’s hard to get my wiener started so check the battery as well.  In fact, as my wiener sometimes runs a little hot, just give my entire wiener a thorough looking over.  While you work on my wiener, I’ll just hang out here and eat a bagel.

Oh and check out the crankshaft…as it has gotten older, it seems to be making some funny noises.”

See folks?  I have a dream.  A dream to own an American icon…my beloved wiener.

Oh sure…Some of you may think of me as one to succumb to pipedreams, and to be a dork, a dick, or a bonehead, but let me say something…

When I make this dream happen, and am driving my wiener into every nook and cranny of America, and graciously allow you to take a spin upon it, you will be saying…

“Damn that Matt-Man; he is a great American, and by God do I love his wiener!!”

Cheers!!

Matt-Man

neshobadude@yahoo.com
@mattmaniws

Some Things Are Coming Less Easily To Matt

Cheers and suck my Schwedy balls people…

Ha actually, I don’t want you to do that, because it wouldn’t be good for either of us, but...

Man, it was hot.

In fact, I worked Friday and all Saturday at the Beer Mine, and it was 101 on Friday and 103 on Saturday.

And, because people are incredibly stupid, I wrote this directive:

Most people who actually saw the sign, laughed, and gave me a dollar, but as you know…I hate that, and as I am all about excellent customer service, and the sign was, well…funny….

I’ll take a dollar where I can get it, because while I am upright, I am also, destitute and unworthy…would you please…contribute…to a boy…like me?  Anyhoo…

When I wrote the, don’t ask how hot it is sign, I thought of a few other sayings I don’t want to hear, and which although gladly accepted in our culture, are completely stupid.  Annnnnnd, here they are bitches…

Easy Come, Easy Go… No…It was not easy to get her to COME marry me, and it is even harder to get her to GO and divorce me.

You Must Have a Kink in your Neck…What the hell is a kink?  Is it Ray Davie?  Did he get stuck in the bicycle chain of my fucking neck?  I don’t understand.

Plurals on Names…I hate that, and it sounds worse when I hear people say, “your Benito Mussolinis”,  “your Adolf Hitlers“, “your stupid people who evidently don’t know that these people are SINGULAR!!”

My A/C is ON THE FRITZ…What, who, and/or where is the damn FRITZ?  I understand that the FRITZ is not good, but could someone tell me what the who, what, or where the FRITZ is?

Ain’t Nothing but a Thing…What the hell is that?  That has to be the stupidest phrase I have ever heard. It makes no sense, other than that it is typically uttered by black people, and then the laziness of the phrase comes together.  Fucking lazy English speakers.

Do You Have dem Fitty Cent Juices?  Ha…No we don’t…Sure you do the people say, they’re right there.  Oh, I say, those are called Big Hugs and they don’t sell for “Fitty Cent“, dumbass.  Well gimme one uv dem.  Me?  Oy.

I like to speak and write colloquially, but I also respect the language when I am typing something serious.  Others, and well, many, don’t feel the same…they speak whatever they want anytime.

I like the English language.

I like to make the English language my bitch.

Unfortunately, many younger people like to make the English a second language.

Yeah, I’m an old man I guess, but if hating young people bastardizing the English language makes me old…I can live with that.

And kiddies...Jayman and Matt-Man talked to Carrie Welch yesterday...They talked about her days on the Food Network and what she is doing now at Little Green Pickle to hear it all, play on:

I Am a Prick, But I Think I Am Getting Better

“An excellent man, he has no enemies, and none of his friends like him.”
--Oscar Wilde

I dig Oscar Wilde.  Oscar Wilde and I are much alike, well…other than his penchant for enjoying the buggery type of sex, but I tell ya…

He was an Irishman who was as wise as he was witty, and that my friends is a unique gift, and I experienced that this weekend in the form of several incongruous meetings, chats, and happenstances.

Several “things”, spontaneous meet-ups, and kind words from the mouths of others, brought me out of a mild funk that I had been in, and the funny thing is…

I never feel that I deserve any of it, because to paraphrase the Wilde quote above, and how it relates to me…

I’m a prick!!  And yet, for whatever reason, people like me.  Still.

I do have to say, a lot of my prickness comes from years of biting my tongue where my kid and mother are involved and then just recently realizing of late…

“Hey, I only have 52 legally required payments left on that make and model, and then my check is all mine...well...Schmoop's.”

Those of you helping to support a child in addition to having an angry ex-spouse, or in my case, quasi-ex-spouse, know that feeling, and know how liberating that feeling is.

And so yeah, while I left my wife 14 years ago, only now, with a smirk, and anemic financial independence looming, do I have the self-aggrandizing freedom to tell her, and to all y’all…fuck off.

And I would do just that, however…I can’t.

I am one sick son of a bitch who has this nasty nice streak within him, which compels me to want everyone to be happy in spite of how much I my or may not hate them.

G-Dawg, I Hate It!!  And let me tell ya, I couldn’t act upon my prickishness this weekend because several good things happened.

Friday, we were only quasi-busy, but folks were tipping me like I was Scar-Jo on a Dance-Po.

Saturday?

My BFF/OSP Schmoop, and her brother came through.  They were both in good moods which for those of you who don’t know them, that happens once in 150 years.  Those two were like Venus in transit.

After a more than unexciting day, around 4 this chick came through.  She….was….hot.  And I knew her.  I have actually known her for some thirty years, and yet don’t know her.

She smiled at me, I got a hard-on, hid my bad teeth, and sent her on her way with a 12 pack of Bud Light bottles, as she handed me a dollar tip, and a feeling of not knowing where I was.

I stood there smiling until I heard the next customer chime in my ear, “Could I have a 24 of Labatt’s Ice and a Slim Jim?”

After I responded, “$3.47.”, and collected his money, my thoughts turned to the woman who had just  left and threw me off my game.  She came through because she liked me, as did Schmoop, and as do others.

And I thought…

“You’re such a jerk sometimes, Mahoney.  There are a lot of people who like you. Why don’t you accept that, and delight in the fact that you make some people smile, and ignore this one asshole?”

And my answer to myself is always the same…

“If only smiles came with money, and if only people knew I was becoming this callous.”

If that were the case, and to paraphrase my hero Oscar Wilde, my friends would not like me, but I’d have huge tips, and I would have no enemies.

Pffffft.....I'll take having the friends over the tips any day.  And enemies?  Bring em'on!!

Sorry Oscar...

Cheers!!
Matt-Man

neshobadude@yahoo.com
@mattmaniws

We also did one helluva joke show on IWS yesterday.  Jay and Matt were cutting up and the lovely Schmoop called in with some joke about her boyfriend.  Good times were had by all, so give it a listen, if you haven't already...

Learning More About Matt-Man

Cheeeeeers Bitches!!  

This is the Matt-Man coming to you live in a literary sense, from my living room…

A place that houses my control center, the exact place where I tell women how much I love them over the internet, and the exact spot where I know that nothing good can come of my internet trangressions, but do it anyway.

Yesterday, the one and only Jayman wrote about some of his idiosyncrasies, his foibles, his weird ass habits.

In keeping with the theme he set, and more importantly, because I could not think of anything else, I shall maintain blog continuity and do the same.

I will however, do this in an un-Jayman type style…I will talk about myself in FIRST person, because, well…c’mon…I’m Matt-Man, Bitch, and as we all I know, I am the Sun and I revolve around myself.  What, wait…what?

Anyhoo…a few things you may not know about me.

I have an amazing case of OCD.  It’s not awful or anything, at least to me, but it is quite noticeable.

I like things in order.

Look at this picture of tree that I mentioned on my Facebook page the other day.

See that tree topper sticking up?  I see that every day that I walk to work, AND IT BOTHERS ME!!

Look at our cabinets…Soup, soup, bean, bean, spice, spice…It has to be laid out that way.  If it’s not, I may end up eating a can of Cream of Peas…And seriously, who wants that?

Not I, says the Matt-Man, not I.

Although I am a smoker and share the Bagwine digs with an uber-hot smoker in her own right, I am compelled to empty ashtrays if I see more than two or three butts in one.

And the pacing!!  Oh Dear God, the pacing!!  I bet I walk four miles a day in the apartment, because I think better when I pace.

I pace as I smoke.  I pace as I drink.  I pace as I talk on the phone and usually…I am doing all four things at once, because once again, I am Matt-Man, bitch, and I can handle multi-debauchery.

But seriously…

I am one pacing Mother Fucker.  We used to receive complaints until the stupid, Norman Bates-type Nazi motherfucker who lived downstairs moved out, and then we got new carpet that could actually absorb the sound of my incessant plodding upon the carpet.

When I am typing out a post on Word,  as I am now, the red line often comes up indicating that what I typed, is not a word, and you know what I do..?

I look at it carefully, and then say to myself one of two things...

Either…

“Damn, I really fucked up the spelling on that word.”

Or…

“Motherfucking Word doesn't recognize a new word when I have just made it up.  It can kiss my ass.”

As you may or may not notice, I have a problem with rules, when it is attempted to be amateurishly applied to masters of the English language.

To be a true, eleoquent purveyor of one’s thoughts, one must write as one speaks, and if that includes made up words, and the hyper-pausitic beauty of the ellipse…

So fucking be it.

Cheers !!

Matt-Man

neshobadude@yahoo.com

@MattManIWS

Divorce...A One Trick Pony

She's a one trick pony
One trick is all that horse can do
She does one trick only
It's the principal source of her revenue.

Ha.  I love Paul Simon.  In my lifetime, no one has summed up every aspect of life quite like he has.  The man is a genius, and soothsayer.

Me?

I’m nothing more than a purveyor of humorous political punditry, tawdry tales, and half truths.

Yet, we here at IWS pride ourselves on exposing the stupid…The lies in life…The infirmities of human civilization.

I have a half truth to expose here today, and it’s not pretty…Well, it…er, she….er…whatever, used to be pretty but now, not so much.

You see, I became an independent two years ago in order to shed myself of Pelosi, and then this year, became a Republican so I could vote for Santorum, and now, I feel it necessary to bear my soul about something else, in order to let you now what’s going on.

I am still married.

It’s true. I got married in 1987, left in 2000, and yet, the woman who sought and gained matrimony from me, continues to cling to it like grim death, and will not let me go.

I have said things like…I’ll write it up.  What’s the big problem with a dissolution?  You have the house and everything else, what gives?

And yet?

She clings to me, day by bitter day, with the courage to tell me that our permanent, yet impermanent separation is MY fault!!

She will cite and/or make up things like, “You have used me, and want to stay married to me so you don’t have to marry Beth.”  Ha!!

Or she’ll say….“We need an ironclad contract, so you don’t steal anything.”  Like What!!

Or she’ll say… “If only…blah, blah, blah.”  Seriously?

I don’t listen anymore.  I don’t care anymore.  I don’t love her anymore.  And if the truth be told…

She would tell you that she doesn’t love me anymore, but it has become a game of who can get what, and yet the funny thing is…

She's the only one playing and there is nothing left to give.

Although I didn’t have to…I signed away the house; I signed away the cars; I signed away our son.

Yeah, I did all that, and yet…

Even though she despises me so, she will not simply sign on the dotted line and go on with her life as I have with mine.

No, she would never do that.  She likes drama…She likes control…

She likes Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy.

And well…there ya go.

Just had to get that off my chest and I feel better now.

Oh one other thing…As much of a jerk as I was to her, I was never that way when my son was involved.

I for one tried to keep the emotional health of the child separate from our problems, but...

Mizz I Was, But Not Really Diagnosed With Post-Partum Depression But Rather I Was Simply Lazy, Princess?

Not so much.

Cheers!!
Matt-Man

neshobadude@yahoo.com
@mattmaniws

She makes it look so easy
She looks so clean
She moves like god's
Immaculate machine

Annnnnd...We did a Prom show where we talk not only about this, but all things Prom-Related.  Such as cover bands, what not to say, and well...you'll just have to find out by listening below:

Jenna Talackova Naked!! Heidi Montag Naked!! Donald Trump Naked!!

Y’know folks…something disturbing happened yesterday.

I, the Matt-Man, the man of a thousand quotes, queries, and quantitative physics problems rolling around in my head at any given time was called…

“A twelve year old.”

In fact my friends, and lovers of all things I’m With Stupid related, the exact quote was this…

“I think both you and Jay are a couple of dudes with the sense of humor of twelve year old boy.”

After three minutes of loudly feigning expressing my outrage, and correcting her quantitative grammar problem, I bellowed to the loquitur of said character impugnment:

“I am not a twelve year old boy, and my humor is always on the cutting edge.”

What I really wanted to say was, in my best impersonation of the Crazy World of Arthur Brown:

“I am the God of hell fire and I bring you fire…”  and continue on in my Al Sharpton voice by saying:

“Oh look at you…you gots the blueberries alllll over your face.”  But…

I didn’t.  For that would be juvenile.

So instead, I attacked her accusatory statement by using simple, everyday logic with the following diatribe…

Listen…

You act like Jayman and I are nothing but a couple of heathens who want nothing more than to score cheap hits on our website by posting tawdry pictures of hot babes that are labeled with their name followed by, “naked”, or “sexy”, or “boobies”.

If that were the case, I would post a picture of the new transgender Miss Universe contestant from Canada, Jenna Talackova like this one:

And then, would label it with her name and add something like, “naked, hot, sexy” to it, which I did, but only to illustrate a point.

I am all for former men being invited to participate in Donald Trump’s Miss Universe pageant.  Does that sound like the attitude of a twelve year old?

Uh-huh…I didn’t think so...and just like I asked Donald Trump on Twitter last night…

“Does she have camel toe?”

Tell a twelve year old to come up with that line of humor.  Word.

See?  Jayman and I, are men of sophisticated tastes, humor, and upbringing.

You’ll never catch me making fun of stroke-ridden Dick Clark by saying, “Happy Doo Year” and then miscounting down to the New Year.

You’ll never hear Jayman uttering, “Trick or Treating in the projects would suck.”

Nope.  We are far more sophisticated than that.  Far more sophisticated than a twelve year old boy.

We don’t make wee-wee jokes, poopie jokes, or hoo-ha jokes.

We simply tell it like it is, and we do not, and will not post cheap pictures like this:

Because, well…it isn’t right.

Instead, we write on this site and turn in high performance shows like the one we did yesterday…

Listen to internet radio with Im With Stupid on Blog Talk Radio

And remember, as a cutting edge comedic person without the sense of humor of twelve year old, I also do not find it funny when I am watching TV and a commercial for Siemens comes on. Trust me, I do not laugh at Siemens commercials, nor would I title this post in a manner simply to attract readers.  I'm not a frickin' twelve year old for Godssakes. Cheers!! Matt-Man

Ulysses: The Making of Irish Stew

In the spirit of James Joyce’s quasi-mythological and somewhat stream of consciousness novel, Ulysses, I give you…

“Mattlysses:  Thoughts While Sitting on the Toilet at 2:47 A.M.”

Holy Cow, my stomach hurts.  I guess I shouldn’t have eaten that taco or drank that last Mickey’s Malt Liquor so late.

I haven’t felt this bad since years ago when I woke up the day after I had drunken sex with that chick with the birthmark shaped liked the boot heel of Missouri on her ass, and a mustache that said, “Pet Me!!”

Oh man!!  C’mon, bowels…Don’t just lay there all gassy n’shit.  Let’s feel some movement.  I’m very tired and want to go back to bed.

Oh what’s this?  Wow.  Merle Haggard is dying and Chaz Bono wants to be, “The Bachelor.”  How does anyone not take a shit without reading, The Globe?  I love it.

And speaking of taking a shit…

“IT WOULD BE NICE TO BE DOING SO, RATHER THAN JUST SITTING HERE GETTING PORCELAIN IMPRINTS ON MY ASS!!”

Was that a spider?

Oh hell…I have to remember that after my colon evacuates its contents, IF IT EVER DOES, I need to get the coffee ready to brew for the morning, which is technically already fucking here.

God forbid that I don’t have the coffee ready for Schmoop.  And God forbid on my behalf that I forget, as I wouldn’t want forgetting to put eight cups of water and five scoops of ground Arabica beans into said coffee maker to be the reason that I don’t get laid this weekend.

Jesus Christ…Oooooo.  Oh boy here she comes…I feel some rumblings.

Ahhhhhhhhh.  Ewwwwwwww….Man, it was like it all rushed out…as if I was pissing from my ass.  Who does that?  I’ll tell ya who!!

An idiot who can’t lay off those God Damn energy drinks, like me.  Aside from the caffeine, those bottles full of a month’s worth of B Vitamins turn any type of food into a frothy chocolate milkshake.  Oh man…

Oh dear God…that is just wrong.  Holy Cow, I only had a taco and drank a couple of beers, what the hell is still coming out of me, my freakin’ soul!?

Why is the cat pawing at the bathroom door.  It can’t be as though she is drawn to the smell in here, unless she smells death and wants to see me before I die.

Fuck…it IS a spider…Ha…Well it’s a dead spider now.  Even while on the shitter, arachnids shouldn’t mess with me.

Ahhhhhhhh….I feel better.  No pain, no gain, and man when it’s all done, it’s better than sex.  Huh?  I find shitting better than sex?

That’s just fucked up.  Eh…

I guess it’s because of that, “the pleasure given, is equal to the pleasure received, school of thought.”

I guess my body and I work in harmony.

I abuse it.  It abuses me.  And in the end…we both feel better.

Cheers!!

Matt-Man

email:  neshobadude@yahoo.com
Twitter:  @mattmaniws

I Am Matt-Man, But You Can Call Me Job

Cheers and Happy Friday Chuckleheads…Matt-Man here to help you get your big, Super Bowl XLVI weekend kicked off right.

And how will I do that, you ask yourselves?

In order to help you make you feel great about yourselves, Ima gonna tell you about all the simple, yet highly irritating misfortunes that occur to me at the most inopportune times.

Oh yeah, Bitches…

While I am not one who adheres to deadlines and timelines by any means, every day annoyances happen to me right on schedule, meaning…their schedule.

Like last night for instance.  I got home around 9:15 PM knowing that it was me who was scheduled to post on IWS for Friday.  I had put some thought into it while at work, and decided I would write about all the garbage some people post on Facebook.

I’d get home…Re-read some hilarious religious, political, and oh woe is me posts on Facebook and make fun of them.  Simple enough, right?

Sure…If you’re not me.

I got home, went to get on Facebook and voila…I couldn't read anything on Facebook, because using MY browser on MY computer, it was all fucked up.  I asked around to see if others were having problems.  Nope, not a one…Just yours truly.  And then I began to think…

This kinda stupid shit happens to me all the damn time.

Dig it…This past week, I did nine sets of taxes for various people including myself.  Three sets of Federal, State, and Local tax returns.

Eight of the nine returns were accepted as correct.  Guess whose State return was screwed up due to a simple, tiny mistake?  Uh-huh…

Mine.

Hell, yesterday my BFF/OSP Schmoop already got her State refund which I did for her only days ago, and what did I get for my efforts?  Nothing, but the right to be nicknamed, H&R Blockhead, and a one way ticket to Palookaville.

A couple of weeks ago, I was running incredibly late for work.  I managed to get showered, dressed, and ready to go when what did I hear?  A whooshing sound.  A wet, warbling, whooshing sound.  The toilet was running and about to run over.

After cursing my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, and his Almighty, practical joke wielding Father, I fixed the toilet, ran through the wind and rain to work, and arrived with two minutes to spare.

Desperately in need of a smoke, I stuck my hand in my pocket, only to discover there was nothing there.  I had left my smokes at home in the GODDAMN Bathroom!!

Hell, the other night at work, I was in need of an energy boost, so I bought the last no-carb Monster that we had in stock.  I rang it up; paid for it, and when I went open it…the FUCKING tab broke off without opening the can.

I am not afraid to admit…I wept a bit.

There is hope however, and there is a bit of promise perhaps.

Due to my schedule at work, I have yet to see my kid play any of his High School basketball games this year.

This Tuesday if the weather is not too bad, and he doesn’t have to work at his “every day” job of snow removal and maintenance, Bill who works off and on for us, is going to work my evening shift, so that I may attend my son’s game…on my birthday no less.

While I find that very sweet of him, I know that given my track record in life, it ain’t going to happen.

Because…

Even if the weather is perfect and Billy Boy does show up?

As I am driving to my son’s game, with music cranked and a birthday smile upon my face, I will suddenly hear an explosion and a koo-lumpa-lumpa-lumpa sound a mile or so away from his school.

I will pull over to the side of the road, once again curse the Baby Jeebus, and begin to fix the flat tire…or the two flat tires, oh what the hell, I’ll fix all, GODDAMN FOUR flat tires.

Have a good weekend everyone, and enjoy the Super Bowl.  I’ll miss the first quarter because I am working, but I’ll get to see the rest of it.

Provided our TV doesn’t go on the shits, which...I'm sure it will.

Cheers!!

Matt-Man

Email:  neshobadude@yahoo.com
Twitter:  @mattmaniws