I love this town. Really, I do. Bright lights, big city, and all the wankers you could imagine:

1 - The morning rush: a bus full of yuppies, all imported from nearby small towns, consider themselves “dressed up” cos they’re wearing polo shirts and nice khakis.

Extra points cos the polo shirt is tucked in.

2 - A coffee shop: the young lady at the register rings up $2 and change for a (small) bottle of water… then has the nerve to ask me, “will that be all?”

I shouldn’t complain — it’s cheaper than gas. Wait, hold on, let me convert mL to gallons… wait, no, I think the water costs more.

3 - In a mall parking lot: a young couple leaves a restaurant and the lad struts like he’s Captain Big-Balls himself. Chest out and chin up. Playing sidewalk-chicken with people cos he’s not moving out of anyone’s way. Yes, quite proud that he has just treated his laydee to a fine meal at … Outback Steakhouse.

Ya wanna side ah testosterone wit tat, mate?

4 - In Target (Tar-zhay to the upper-crust among you): practically shouting into her mobile phone: “That is not true. THAT IS NOT TRUE. … I’m not trying to fucking argue with you. … Yeh, well I don’t really give a fuck what you believe about that shit!”

I take it, the price of tampons went up?

Anonymous twat, waiting with her friends to enter a local bar:

I’d rather he, like, not talk to me than not have sex with me.
I LIKE SEX.

To all the lusty lads who overheard this gem of a mating call:

It won’t last. Don’t fall for this line.

By now you’ve noticed the bright red bar above the categories. What gives?

The US is still sorting out which candidates will go head-to-head in the November presidential elections. Whether you vote red, blue, or mauve, you can still be certain of one thing:

Well, it’s about everyone came ’round to our way of thinking! We’ve been anti-bush since day one. Hence the strict “Shavers Only” policy.

Why not celebrate this event with the nation? On January 20, 2009 — that’s inauguration day for you luddites — the lardy, lengthy lads of Bait’n'Switch invite you to follow Washington and lose your bush. Clippers, razor, weed-wacker, whatever it takes, just mow it out of the way and experience life without bush! We bet you’ll start to feel all light and fresh and fancy-free in no time…

-and lest you feel left out, this is open to laydeez of any nationality. Because, let’s face it: right now, the entire world looks forward to being bush-free.

NOTE: Sorry, ladies, Legal has informed us that you may not send us photos. But don’t despair, While we can’t personally appreciate your handiwork, we’ll know, and we’ll be smiling along with you.

Top five reasons why Pittsburgh isn’t like where you live:

5. A guy was standing behind the guard rail on a very busy thoroughfare, waist high in weeds. At first I mistook him for a panhandler or a drifter, but upon further inspection noticed the sign right above him: BUS STOP.

4. Myspace bulletin from a high school friend with news that she is expecting was titled BABY ON BOARED.

3. I got a ticket for not moving my car for the bi-monthly street cleaning on my street. My heart sank, as my finances could die from exhaustion at any moment. Until I saw the ticket: $5.00.

2. I was unironically asked, “Haah you hannle all them traffic livin dahntahn?”  I live about six miles from the four-square-block area that is downtown Pittsburgh.

1. Office Boss #1 was joking with a client about said client having hit a deer with his new SUV. “Looks like you’ll have to get a minivan,” OB#1 jokes. “Doc, I ain’t a fag,” replied the patient, to thunderous laughter.

More mail from the spam bag, kids!

Watch her climax over and over again

If I’m watching then there’s a good chance I’m not involved. No.

The chronicles of my pussy conquest

Hm. Short read for most lads!

Go where no man has ventured

The “lady things” aisle at the supermarket?

They forgot, “large”…

Sure, Girls Gone Wild mastermind and six-time Douchebag Of The Year winner Joe Francis wouldn’t be living up to expectations if reading about his antics didn’t make me want to wash my hands with bleach. But boy, has this guy set himself a precedent for 2008.

First, he offers Spitzer hooker Alexandra Ashley Farnsworth Higgenbottom Dupre a million bucks to get on the bus and encourage insecure sluts to bare their titties. Then he retracts the offer, realizing that years ago she already spent weeks on his drunk bus, playing lesbian and drinking beer out of plastic cups. So ha, no money for you, bitch: you signed the waiver! Until, um, her lawyer points out that she was only 17 at the time. Whoops!

Guys in shiny suits wearing backwards baseball caps! Wiggers with rimz on their F-350 and decals of Calvin pissing on Iraq! Abandon all ye hope: you are no match for the douchebaggery of Joe Francis.