so, like the title says, rob schneider’s e-mail was hacked recently, and, even though everyone thinks he did it on purpose to promote his new movie, i think god did it so that i could laugh really hard for a really long time. here are two of my favorites for right now:

Date: Mon, 12 Feb 1991 11:20:26 -0500
From: kool_cindy3432434242@hotmail.com
To: robbehavingbadly@yahoo.com
Subject: our date

hey rob!

next time you try to pick up a girl don’t say you can deliver adam sandler if you CAN NOT deliver adam sandler!

-cindy

Date: Mon, 12 Feb 1991 11:20:26 -0500
From: asandler@hotmail.com
To: robbehavingbadly@yahoo.com
Subject: couch

yo rob,

it’s sandler. get off the couch, buddy… it’s time.

-adam

hey singer/songwriters,

hey, that’s a really nice sweater! anyway, i’m just writing you guys with a really funny idea i had: maybe you should do an ironic cover version of a really ridiculous and profane rap song (possibly from the early/mid 90’s, but that’s your call) and sing it really earnestly. it would be so hilarious!!!

oh wait, you’ve already done it a thousand times and it’s always really fucking lame. i hate you.

love,
joey

well, it’s tax time, that annual ritual where we part with our hard-earned blood money to keep america running at peak efficiency! it may seem like everyone loves to hate tax season, but quite a few folks just plain love it:

• the wealthiest 1%
• prisoner-torturing american soldiers everywhere (payday, dudes!)
• jesus (rose from the dead on tax day just to mail his 1040EZ!)
• fans of paperwork
• fans of papercuts
• fans of paper moon
• h & r block (herbet & ronald block, just two guys)

• emma watson (born april 15, 1990)

we’re making some changes here and some stuff might be broken. you might need to update the url for our feed. also, you should wear green more often. you look really good. seriously.

them to make sure i’m dead

the harlem globetrotters to give my eulogy, stating that i was the greatest opponent they had ever faced

to be roasted by some of the assholes from the friars club

a stealth bomber to fly over my grave

nickelback to perform “how you remind me”

the police to catch the guy who did it

good attendance

saying “good answer” doesn’t make your cousin’s guess any less embarrassing.

while looking up the start time for the big usa vs mexico game on espn.com, i noticed that espn classics has a series where, well, this…

“Top 5 Reasons You Can’t Blame Bill Buckner For Red Sox Losing The 1986 World Series”

i think my list is probably better:

• wade boggs kept him out late the night before, just talking about stuff.
• roger clemens recommended a bad restaurant that, along with the butterflies in his stomach, kept him in the bathroom all morning.
• his father didn’t come to see him play.
• he caught his girlfriend in bed with lenny dykstra.
• he was born with a rare bone disease. the doctors said he wouldn’t be able to keep his glove down for the rest of his life.

“my daughter used to sell drugs, and now she sells cookies.”

“my daughter used to sell cookies, and now she’s out selling drugs while i’m stuck here selling her cookies.”

“my daughter used the money she got for girl scout cookies to buy all sorts of drugs.”

“my daughter sells cookies and drugs; would you like to buy some drugs or would you just rather have the cookies and skip the drugs?”

“these cookies are laced with drugs. they shouldn’t be, but they are… we don’t know how they ended up being laced with drugs, but now they’re selling like hotcakes.”

“girl scout cookies are fucking expensive!”

interns
personal assistants
ghostwriters
vietnam veterans
seat-fillers
designated hitters
mothers-in-law
buildings of religious significance in iraq or something
“respect whores”

why don’t you love me anymore?
how did you get that scar?
anybody got any weed?
why don’t you ever talk about the war, grandpa?
what was your name again?
don’t take this the wrong way, but are you a fag?