SHARK WEEK

In league with the devils over at I Hate Racists, we’re going to be doing some Shark Week coverage. We’ve asked Dweezil, my best friend’s favorite shark, to do some reporting on his life and times, and conditions under the sea. Get ready to pump up the volume!

MONDAY: SWIMMING WITH SHARKS

Okay, so, umm…shit! Where was I? Oh, right…sharks. So there’s like this beautiful place in, like, Virginia with sharks fucking EVERYWHERE!!!

True story, by the way.

And I there last year. There was this beautiful girl there. Her name was…uhh, what’s a good name? Charla, Sandra, SANDRA! That’s perfect. Okay, so I’m in the water and she’s there and her breasts are super-gigantors. I’m berserking in my pants just looking at her. And we’re in Virginia and she’s flipping off at me all mac’n on me and I’m like, “Yo sup girl?” Cause she’s swimming around and I’m in this 900 ft yacht that I sometimes have.

She’s like “You want this? You want this?”

And then out of nowhere there’s a shark’s fin!

I’ve got a harpoon gun and I jump into the water.

“Die you stupied shark I’m killing you!”

Ahhh…!!…blood everywhere! Sharla! Hello? Are you okay.” And then I feel my penis get erect and the shark is dead.

We are on the yacht and Sandra’s gigantors…well…they’re not gigantors, they’re just like these small little perky things. Stop kissing me! I’m trying to tell a story!

There’s a girl here right now who keeps kissing me. She’s all, “Come to bed, honey.”

“Not now! It’s Shark Week and I’m telling everyone a story!”

She’s trying to touch my berserker but I’m, like, “Not now, baby.” Hehe…she’ll get hers soon enough…

TO BE CONTINUED…

(by Mr. I Am Legend)

TUESDAY…Dweezil Sharkton Speaks!

Hello, all. My name is Dweezil. I was born Shark, a member of Shark Clan. I will speak of my first human kill.

You humans think you have a really good bead on sharks, but you don’t. You think we’re violent? It is to laugh. We are peaceful creatures but we like to show off by killing your young. You humans ride around on top of where we live and act like dinks. How would you like it if we threw up and peed all over your roof every summer? How would you like it if every so often one of us went into your house with a camera and a cage, gave you food and then freaked out when you ate it? You humans deserve what you get.

Perfect example. Out minding my own off the coast of the Carolinas, just another day, right? Wrong! This yacht club holier-than-thou dude comes flying by at a million miles an hour in his little boogie boat with some flat-chested arm candy, spilling vodka champagnes all on top of my head! That stuff stings! I come up all polite, wag my fin around as if to say ‘move along,’ but he just doesn’t get it. He keeps trying to put booze “in my blowhole” and he keeps asking me where the party is? Then he says my mother had barnacles in her snatch! Unprovoked, just right out of the blue. Now I’m a tolerant fellow, but this loudmouth took it too far, so I ate his broad and I showed where the party was at:

Pwned! Try clapping now, jerkwad! And he was cryin and cryin for me to finish him off but I was all “nuh-uh. I’m totally full from eating your fat-ass girlfriend. Haw haw!” He was SO mad. But I was lying. I totally had a big lunch later! Kiss my ass you Harvard butthole! Ha!

I’m freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

end transmission

(by kasheestees)

SHARK WEEK CONTINUES
I was gonna post the last two Shark Week posts from I Hate Racists but those racists haven’t gotten back to me on the phone, fuck them, here’s the exciting conclusion to the work week part of Shark Week.

Friday: Let the FEAST begin by Dweezil Sharkton

You wanna hang around with me underwater? Here, let me show you around…

This is Bradley, he’s some sort of shark (or so he says). He kind of looks like a human horn, if you know what I mean. A bell end. A weenis. But he’s a nice guy I guess. It’s too bad he got murdered.

Not by humans, although we all thought so. The culprit left his fingernails at the scene of the crime, so Stabler and Orbach were able to round up the usual suspects:

But all of these guys had wives who were willing to give them alibis. Hammerheads. Their kind always sticks together. So my Dad, the local sherriff, or Sharkiff, immediately proposed a Fatwah on those annoying hairless monkees, the surface dwellers:

My dad is fucking HUGE. Anyway, we Sharks have to continually move or else we’ll die, so it means we are totally fit. Touch my abs! Seriously! And we were in high spirits, seeing my dad chomp that stupid surfer in front of his whole family and all his children. I told you we weren’t violent and that was true, but we do get bloodlust, nothing we can do about that, and we have to act on our natural instincts, just like you humans have an instinctual need to watch Saturday Night Live even though it hasn’t been funny….ever. Snap! I killed a dinosaur!

He put up a good fight, though, and he had this guy Sam Neill watching out for him too. Tough customer. No, I mean he was tough, and gamey, and hard to swallow. Also , all that stuff I said about sharks being non-violent? Well, we’re also compulsive liars! And you fell for it! After my battle with Raptor I hankered for a hunk of cheese. I was still hungry, so I want to Paul and Nomo’s party even though I kind of don’t like them. They make great human dogs.

They’re always ragging on me though, especially Nomo. His dad’s a congressman, so he’s always been super-rich. He’s kind of a snob. I think he’s still mad at me because I banged his sister (then ate her.)

(by kasheestees)

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