Monthly Archive for December, 2005

The Year Ends, The Night Begins

Being friends with Jonah Goldberg has its privileges. Yeah, we hate each other, but that’s what binds us together- he’s got the cash and the multi-media empire, I’ve got the brains and you know he’s always had a thing for Geenie C. We just pretend to like each other. Anyway, I’m swilling his VIP room champagne at the club, he thinks he’s teaching me a lesson. He’s trying to be edgy as he passes around a pack of clove cigarettes, although the Magnum PI lighter he got from Tom Selleck at an NRA meet-and-greet is not doing him any favors. Since this part of the club is starting to smell like a god-damned Christmas ham, I decide to check out the rest of the action.

Song: Pure Freak-downlowtooslow. Missy mashed with the androgynous misanthropes Placebo. Is this the mashup that proves you can mix Missy with anything? No, that’s Missy plus some Bach fugue they played earlier.

Either way Brian Molko’s sexual ambiguity is fitting because as I look across the dance floor, I see Chuckles is trying to find some more coats to check so he may continue to ply the coat check “girl” with suspect tips. Where’s his babysitter?

Song: I Need a Spirit Machine-ccc. Norman Greenbaum, the Fabs, Goldfrapp. A killer.

Some conspicuous PDA on the floor- a Josh Duhamel lookalike and a trendo wearing a “librarians do it in the stacks” skirt become interwined. Young love indeed. Oh there’s Fulsome, he’s looking wistfully at the floor although it seems his g-friend wants his nerdly side at full-attention.

Song: Rip It Up-Orange Juice.

How did this get played? What’s going on? I catch AG and Uncanny Canadian (Three Bulls!) sneaking out the door. Well, they’d had their hands all over each other all night, probably headed out of this ham and sausage festival. The first idea that something was amiss was when this song started playing and the tv above the bar stopped playing German Gay-ish semi-porn and started playing Patriots highlights. Oh, I see that Gavin M. and Brad R. have taken over the DJ booth. Looks like it is going to be Tom Brady and the Damned for the rest of the night.

Well they’re doing the balloon drop and another New Years comes and goes. Jonah toasts the troops on his fake gimpy leg thinking of Jenna the whole time. Cheney’s in the back room with the as-of-yet unmoved Ecstacy working Bobby Lightfoot over for channeling a damn good Lester Bangs. Blue Girl’s drinking a tonic with lime cuz she’s gonna take care of everyone’s drunk ass. Troy been passed out in a sea of beef for at least an hour, he’d already had his own ball drop. Res, he hasn’t left his little booth all night, looking both dour at the rest of us and smitten at the same time with his special someone. He’s doing that thing where he gives you a weird, skeptical eyeball. It’s like the eye of Sauron that one.

a and p
were of course bickering over a’s scarf left in the cab. p just wants to order a drink but a a) won’t decide and b) want’s to blog about p’s assumed hegemony over a’s drink choice. The Rev. of course merely has to say two not really words in his English accent and he pulls like 20 birds. He’s fit, but by God, don’t he know it.

All the cool kids scored like a million dates and were too cool for this club of miscreants, plus jexter got his eyeball chewed out by a chipmunk. aif is diversifying his portfolio as we speak. Auguste is trying out some poetry on some babe, but perhaps he has forgotten that the poetry already worked and that it is his wife. Halford, Chip and Baby Si-Si are busy building a spaceship with Take 5 bar wrappers while being watched by church police.

I ask Gavin to put on one little tune, one little Happy Monday’s tune, the kids perk up, they hear the guy from Gorillaz’ “Dare”…

Happy New Year, Cobaggos!

Three Bulls! Pulls Itself Up From the Unceasing River of Bullsh*t

Only to flood you with a torrential downpour of unseemly and marginal content.

1. SeanS of shootaliberal has been bored by us. We must try harder to amuse him in his Nero-like debauched shell of existence.

2. We would like to thank American Airlines for our safe return to Teh Gay Bay, albeit with a probable blood clot inching it’s way to our brains.

3. This joke has nothing to do with deadly wildfires, but more a meditation on a certain expression. Three Bulls! has noted the fondness of certain deliberate Southerners™ to call out to seemingly blurry, fast-moving Northerners™ “where’s the fire?” as if to censure their haste. Three Bulls! would like to note that if that hypothetical fire were to be in Dallas-Ft. Worth International Airport, then everybody would be dead, certainly those ordering a sandwich for the apparent first time in their life.

4. We have been away from our Supercomputer of Webposting Extravagancy, we apologize, we know your lives have been inordinantly dimmed by the recent dullness of our shining star.

5. The doggies have survived their trip to the doggie holding center, although Smokedog seems put out by NSA spying. Pugman considers him a traitor and was merely happy to be safe. Also, since we are trafficking in hypotheticals, my good deeds saved countless millions of lives, because all those cobags I told to “eat it” did so. Don’t ask me for proof. Also, I stopped 50 nuclear bombs using Jexter’s laser. Turns out implacable nanobots actually can be placated by Take 5 bars. So next time somebody wants to leak my play book (thanks T. Lott, we needed to football analogize this terrorism situation, and way to drop Sun Tzu- maybe you meant General Tso [ed. can’t find the quote]), they’d better think first, because they could be signing the death warrant of countless millions of hypothetical terror victims. To quote a famous man: “it could happen”.

Implacable Nanobots Team Up With Panamanian Secret Police

You wish, cobags. Sinster familial forces swirl about Three Bulls! headquarters. Geenie Cola’s presence in the home hive is demanded by the Colacular Matriarch.

Some housekeeping:

1) Since everyone is gonna be posting lightly for the next while, why not take the opportunity of FINDING quotes for the contest. We can generate 76 comments on Yosef’s disturbingly agile beer belly, yet our contest for extreme cobaggery, that should be easier than beating Jonah Goldberg in a three-legged race with himself, we have nothing. Not even babka (thanks USPS- see RoD bakeoff posts). We promised Take 5 bars to the winner, and that wasn’t enough. Here is the link as proof. Other winner gets a Three Bulls! tee, and it doesn’t have to be “THYCWOTI SAY RELAX” we’re working on a Yosef themed Wham! one as well. More crap here.

2) We’re not gonna get all mushy just because Baby J. demands it. We feel the same about everyone that we usually do. Our tiny black heart is filled with love for everyone. Even the party goers.

3) We spy with our little eye the goings on of the A-P Collective. Will their amazing shtick grate with time or grow lagubrious? As usual, we accord them respect as persons as persons. We remain skeptical of P, the gay conservative. Wethinks he’s merely desirous of the attention of the vertitable stable full of STUDS that is the assorted Three Bulls! hangers on and more distantly related. See RoD, Freedom Camp and environs. A, A is enigmatic. We say no more in light of her refusing us respect as persons as persons.

4) Please tell your real world friends and your internet ones too how much you appreciate their little japes and hijinks done to amuse you during those fleeting moments when your iPod is recharging, keeping you from listening to “My Humps” or “Wonderwall” or some such.

5) Remember to cultivate your non-internet hobbies, jobs, relationships in the coming year.

6) Don’t be anymore of a cobag than you need to be, but remember that there are certain times that you need to be more of a cobag.

7) Thank you to Yosef/THYCWOTI and Gregor/MomH/PupH and most importantly Kitty Kattwood doing it to the Prez 3B! style. Please remember the sacrifices of those who are lost and have yet to be found.

8) Reading blogs is stupid. Interacting with people and commenting and having fun is not stupid. Lurkers are encouraged to say hey, not even here. Give Auguste some props, for example. Tell teh than you appreciate him when he gets all serious. Tell spacemonkey he’s a goddamned cobag, but do it with a smile, because we aim to be a higher class of cobag. That’s why we’re so Raven!

9) Also, don’t let porking babes take the edge off your beer pong game.

10) Since AG just had a stroke at that last link, consider a donation to charity, and not your local weed dealer, pop ren.

11) Pinko Punko and assorted hangers on will return in one week.

12) Monday

13) Goldberg

14) Theatre



*™Bobby Lightfoot, god love him.

Amazon! Amazon!

No Jonah Goldberg hasn’t reviewed anything in awhile. The Poor Man News Team has a find concerning the poor man’s O’Reilly, Johnny Gibson. We’re spineless so we’ll pull an Insty “disturbing, if true” (thanks, Ron Mexico) although that’s like watching CSI and pretending you don’t get off on the dead bodies and hot chicks getting creatively mangled. Don’t pretend, cobags. Although, from this story it looks like Johnny G. might be fun to have over and watch football with the cat. It’s like an alcohol fueled trainwreck that arrives at your personal theatre of the macabre pre-lubed. Don’t even have to waste any of your Steel Reserve.




You wouldn’t love us if we were E-Z cheezy. Only regular commenters and bloggin ROCK stars get the full shiatsu and bathouse or is it bathhouse treatment? (Teh, help me out)

Pinko loves you. THYCWOTI must be satisfied- he has the keys to the blogrollio.

Our Kind of Cobag, but Demanding

Red, White and Polyamorous, but not actually polyamorous. That would be Mr. Nice Guy, who seems like…a nice guy! It’s another dimension at RWP, one we expect to be littered with brandy-soaked cigarillos and Strunk and White’s Elements of Style-Law School Edition. And broken hearts. And Smarties.

Ah, the Medical Devices Profession

I’m sure they’ll start advocating for research ethics panels, and they’ll claim Einstein and Darwin are quite fat. You know what? There are certain reasons why industries need to be regulated. One of them is that they will literally steal the bones of a beloved grandfather figure to make substandard prosthetic devices. Oh yeah, link here. Maybe the AEI could advocate “GPCs- grandpa bone credits” where unethical funeral directors can buy and sell excess grandpa bones to minimize grandpa bone emissions. Maybe they can offer people tax credits for people that find out that grandpa’s bones have been stolen. I’m sure these and other solutions will be less damaging to the economy than regulation. For more on why burying grandpa with his bones intact may be bad for the environment, and how this grandpa bone deficit just suggests that the market should be more optimally exploited, please go to Tech Central Station and John Stossel: “Helping Grandpa’s body take up less space by sequestering his bones for your own good.”

On the Digby Thing

Seriously Eff Digby. What a cobag. Positively Hilzoy-esque in his preparation and thoughtfulness. You know what that does? That makes the rest of us look like cobagging cobaggios. You want to shame them as they deserve? Then kick them some funds or some nominations for the Koufax awards. They’ll never forgive themselves while we effortlessly smirk.


Oh, look, is that Digby? No, it’s us. It’s how Digby makes us look with his trying. Oh look, we missed the penalty because of stupid Digby. DIGBY DIGBY DIGBY. That’s all I ever hear these days!

Sandies (mmmm…)

Pecan sandies! Oops! I meant the Koufax awards!

Look, we know that 3B! is the greatest blog on earth that has the number 3, the word bulls, and the word blogspot in the url, but not everyone is aware. We would like you, our loyal 4 readers (and Chuckles), to take some time to go here and nominate 3Bulls for the only categories that we would really belong in:

A) Best Expert Blog – for our work on shooting lasers at crystals in the Puget Sound while taking a break from diagramming the cellular structure on differential equations; and Ric Flair.

2)Best Series that doesn’t run any more even though it was funny as bubbles because Pinko got too busy and tired to do it anymore (and the rats ate MJ.) (I didn’t even see any other ones nominated for this category.)

C)Most Deserving Lesser Recognition.

IV)Best Commenter – your choice, Der Commissar or Seth.

Remember, it’s your civic duty. I’ve got purple fingers, do you?

UPDATE: Plenty of people parading purple pfingers (damn, that last alliterative didn’t work did it?)

Best Expert Blog: 3Bulls! at

Posted by: Chuckles | December 21, 2005 10:59 PM

Best single issue blog: 3Bulls!

Posted by: shingles | December 21, 2005 11:55 PM

Three Bulls! run to the BEEF!

OK Kids, let’s get this out in the open. We are targeting Gumbah’s in Vallejo for RUN TO THE BEEF. After New Year’s, sooner rather than later. Fulsome is in, pop ren? Teh L4m3? Also if you are a Three Bulls! commenter and you happen to live in the vicinity of the BA and you hate your life enough that you want to blow some precious free time with our motley crew, shoot me a line and we will arrange. 3bulls, gmail, you know the rest.