Stunt Cock Fails to Deliver, and 9-ways to tell if SHE’S Cheating

There’s a saying my office- “If you bring in donuts, Meister will hide at least one in his desk and lie about it.” Those are truer words than “All men Are Created Equal.” The donut I am eating right now, and the two others I’ve stashed in my desk are bringing me no joy this morning though. Last night was a failure of epic proportions. The abhorrently named Man-On trounced your heroes 3-1. After last nights debacle, suicide as an answer was on the table.

Ryan “Stunt Cock” Adams filled in for Chris “Trashman” Jones who was called away to Chicago for an emergency meeting of tall people. Stunt performed admirably in game 1. Hell all the BTJ’ers performed well in game 1, I even thought I’d broken free of my slump. But games 2 and 3 proved to be complete cock-ups. 

Immediately following the loss Reebok announced it was cancelling its planned line of Bigger Than Jesus sneakers. So although I know you were all eager to score some Gard Dawgs, Stunt Cocks, Heather Krull’s signature “I’m a doctor, Bitch! Well a PhD, not a medical Doctor, but it was still a lot of schooling so suck my nutz” low-tops, Trashman’s Garbage Pickers High tops, and the Meister Moon Boots; it just wasn’t meant to be. Reebok claims they don’t want to be in business with a losing brand but I can tell you right now this deal has been on the rocks since we said we would only utilize the most deplorable of conditions in manufacturing the shoes. Don’t lose all hope though, we’re in talks with Keds about their 2013 line.

Early on this season at one of our Handsome Man Seminars(1)1  Dynamite Parish pulled me aside and said “Watch out, when you’re number one, everyone’s gunning for you.” I laughed it off, sure BDS ran into trouble in seasons directly following one of their multiple championship wins; that can’t happen to BTJ. We’re dialed in, we’re ready to roll. Well I am getting an education right now. I spoke with Parish again last night to admit I was wrong(2) and to ask for his help. The advice he gave me has been priceless.

Follow…the…numbers…

Then he threw down a fairly pitiful smoke bomb and tried to vanish unnoticed. I played along(3)  with the ruse. Follow the numbers, seems like some shallow advice. But then it hit me like the Kaiser Soze riddle from The Usual Suspects, this whole season has been one farce after another.

The evidence- The gentle nod El Presidente gave to Todd “Hey what was your score” Schwartz right before he proposed the increased handicap. The very miniscule debate that took place over said handicap increase. The fact that only BDS and BTJ stood against the increase only adds fuel to the flame.

BTJ’s schedule, set up to make us play every team with a grudge against us, every team that stands a chance of breaking our stride. Inserting a two time perfect game bowler into an opposing team’s line-up. Twice having to face the quiet dignity of Carlos “Nails” Hernandez. Two seasons in a row, missing from the schedule is the biggest ratings getter of the season- BDS/BTJ. Every time these squads face each other women randomly give birth, corrupt governments fall, and stock markets rise.

The death threats, the slashed tires. The all too frequent drug testing of my teammates and I. The burning sensation when I pee. It all adds up,  El Presidente and Il Padrino are behind this. Even Padrino took himself out of last night’s match-up. The past two seasons we’ve faced his squad, two times he has been a no-show and a clutch bowler has taken his place.

So this weekend we’re back at our  dojo, and crunching some season statistics thru the Jesus-tron 9000. The numbers it spit back at us will definitely add up to another Bigger Than Jesus championship ring.

We’re also reaching out to our aggrieved brothers-in-arms Backdoor Santa. It’s time to resurrect ZACHFOCS (Zealously Adored Champions Heralded For Opposing Corruption & Suspiciousness). Avid readers may remember the BDS/BTJ joint investigative committee that was stymied by a corrupt regime and made illegal to even speak about. But perhaps now in an obamacare world we can make a go at ending the cease-less corruption and rakishness pervasive in the upper echelons of this league. No word yet from BDS on their desire to re-form this once great dream, but we remain hopeful. The greatest squads on the planet, suffer the same discrimination and therefore share the same goals.

Meister out

1.  About 4 times during the calendar year Dynamite and I put on Handsome Man seminars. It’s an off shoot from the BTJ Backdoor Santa Alliance Accords from 2010. To date we’ve helped over 15,000 men realize their handsome-ness through such programs as “How Handsome is too Handsome?” and “You know you’re handsome, she knows you’re handsome. There’s nothing wrong with being handsome.” Look for more info in a future report.

2.  A handsome man can always admit fault, because his looks are perfect everyone can look past the rest.

3.  A handsome man will never make a fellow handsome man look bad through inaction or obstinate douchery.

Election Night 2008, All Over Again. Do you want to keep her satisfied?

Frame Damage was a no show. I believe the exact message we got was “Fuck it, we’ll do it live!” So we bowled sans an opponent. Now we wait to see if they even post bowl. If they don’t then we’re back in the mix for top spot. If they do, well then it’s anybody’s ball game.

The entire team is pretty on edge about the waiting game. We’re all going through our own personal shit right now, kind of like that episode of M*A*S*H where all the doctors are working like dogs and not really getting any sack time but when they do it’s all these weird and creepy dreams, like Hawkeye having to remove limbs for wrong answers and Winchester only having magic skills in the ER. Sometimes when I close my eyes, it’s all I can see. Chris “The Trashman” Jones said this about his wait this week:

The waiting game is the worst part of it. It’s like when I thought I might have knocked up my high school girlfriend and I had to wait two minutes for that E.P.T. to see if I was going to need to punch her real hard in her stomach. She wasn’t preggers, but I punched her anyway. Why? Because fuck her, that’s why.

Heather “Doc” Krull used that nervous energy to write, record, and release a new album of bluegrass infused death metal music called Rape-Allachia – Heather Krull, songs in my heart. Noted BTJ Music critic Adam “If it ain’t Aretha, I don’t want to fucking hear it” Gard had this to say:

I don’t typically go in for anything other than dubstep, but this fucking record is awesome. It’s some of the dopest shit that my side holes has heard. It’s hobo-killing music.

While pacing BTJ HQ nervously Adam decided to teach me 265 ways to kill a man, should my stalkers ever make themselves known. In learning these methods I’ve had to become registered with the UN as a weapon of mass destruction and I had to circulate my ‘hood with a waiver for my neighbors to sign indicating they know they live near a certified bad-ass.

As far as the death threats? Not one note this week. Last week Adam “Guv” Gard brought a flak jacket, I wore it. I was shot a grand total of 15 times, which is what led to such awful scores. But can you imagine what my scores would have been like if I hadn’t been wearing the vest?

While we await an answer on whether or not Frame Damage will make up the games, we prep for tonight’s game against the replicants of Rand. The pop-culturally named District 12. Of her co-workers Heather had only this piece of game winning advice:

“Their asses are just as rape-able as anyone else’s. Fuck ‘em”

In a former incarnation BTJ were known as The Bowling Wallendas, so I leave you with our cousin Nik walking his way across Niagra Falls…on a tightrope…like a fucking boss.

Meister out

Death Threats Continue to Plague BTJ, More Importantly Meister is Besieged. All this and tips on how to host the perfect party

If you saw my scores last week you can see I was distracted. Beginning early last week I kept finding notes on my door addressed to “That Incredibly Handsome Bigger Than Jesus Bowler – Kevin Meister”. I’ll admit when I saw the envelopes I was intrigued. As some of you know I’ve spent the last 4 years as a frequent cover model for Handsome Bowler Monthly and I humbly accept my role of both having the best beard in bowling and being one of the 3 handsomest bowlers in TNT, as well as top 10 nationwide. So notes like this aren’t a surprise. However the contents of the letters themselves chilled the blood in my veins. Take a look at the first one I received:

Great grammar right?

I know what you’re thinking, “Hey Kevin, why don’t you dry your vagina and man up?” While I’m sure my vag could use a little powdering, this wasn’t an isolated incident:

I think the gremlin sent this one; she wants my sac, but then again who doesn’t?

Shooting me in the heart is incredibly specific. I’ve checked the handwriting on that one against other letters and even notes from my family. It isn’t a match for family members, but it is a 100% match for about 15 other notes I received; all of which become increasingly more terrifying and are also completely unprintable.

After last week’s stunning upset by AWOL, the notes stopped…until yesterday when I received this one:

Okay I figure just regular fan mail, I’m used to it. Being the back bone of the most show-stopping, electrifying, dynamic, crowd-pleasing bowling team to ever grace the lanes means people look up to you. Then I turned to page 2 of the letter.

Yep, the threats have started again. All addressed to me, all terrible. I know it seems like the work of El Presidente and il Padrino, but this isn't their style. They're back room bitch boys at best and like to do their dirtiest work behind the scenes. These are from people who have imagined slights against them from me. Which is odd because I'm all about love baby.

 I took this one to the police:

The police scoffed at me and told me to go ask the Gard Dawgs for help. Seems like someone is still smarting from a certain firefight on the streets of Santa Monica*. The thing is, our entire company of Adam “The Guv and I like it” Gard trained Gard Dawgs ritually killed themselves late last Thursday because they felt they were responsible for our upset loss to that awful team AWOL. You didn’t see it on the news because, well, we own the fucking news.

 So once again I’ll be watching the rafters for snipers, and having people test my beers all night long again. I could focus more on my game if a certain teammate, Adam Gard, would bring me the proper protection against being shot in the heart. But maybe my team doesn’t want me around anymore. Maybe they’re angry that I’ve built BTJ into one of the largest sports organizations in the universe. Maybe they’re upset that under my leadership I’ve increased team revenues a kajillion percent. Maybe Adam is just being a jerk.

Hey remember a paragraph ago that I ended with calling Adam a jerk and saying my team was jealous? My bad, I was in a really weird place and I didn’t mean it. I’m just worried that if I get taken out, who takes my place on the team? I’m not talking about being the more consistent bowler on the squad, I’m talking about the day-to-day. So sorry about that squad, I’m feeling totes bad about what I said. Let's kick ass tonight.

Meister out

*See earlier posts for details on this and other thrilling BIGGER THAN JESUS adventures

Bradbury “Natural” Death Reveals Sinister Corruption Regime Plot!!! BTJ Still Bowling Heat!!!

No sooner had Ray Bradbury’s daughter reported his death to the major news outlets; then she immediately called a press conference to announce findings from his papers. Chief among the papers was an essay/admission (by Ray Bradbury) that basically explains that his seminal novel Fahrenheit 451 is really about El Presidente and his corrupt government:

                              “I just knew where the future of recreational

                                bowling league governance was heading and

                               I tried to prevent it. It’s everyone else who missed

                               the point and said it was about censorship. Sure

                               that’s a great message but I was trying to point

                               out one very specific instance of censorship and

                               corruption in the TNT bowling league. Well the

                               cat’s out of the bag now isn’t it? Fahrenheit 451

                               is about El Presidente, il Padrino, and

                              the rest of the TNT  ruling body. Their constant

                              attempts to extort, swindle, and otherwise stymie

                              the honest, and god-like teams of TNT such as

                              Bigger Than Jesus and Backdoor Santa are

                              undermining the very fundamentals that

                              define bowling in America.”

Pretty brave words from a national treasure.

Dream on you Dreamer

BTJ has petitioned congress to investigate Bradbury’s death for possible “foul play” by none other than El Presidente and his Corruption crew.

In other news, last week’s attempt to stifle BTJ with increased traffic patterns resulted in our intrepid squad mates only extracting 3 points from the still puckering anus of last season’s “also-rans” Multiple Scoregasm. MS tried to jump start their night in the second game but like a 70-year old man without his Viagra, they couldn’t keep it up. The end of the night saw BTJ claiming the 2^nd spot in the rankings. That’s fine with us, no one is gunning for us and it helps us put even more pressure on the break-out stars Thunderpuss.

TP is kind of an unknown quantity this season. Are they good? Are they lucky? What started as almost certain league dominance has shown serious cracks in the past few weeks. Two weeks ago they had a point taken away from them by perennial basement dwellers Motion to Strike and just lost 3 ½ points to ham and eggers Gutter Boys.

Tonight brings up the appropriately named AWOL as our opponent. They are away on business/pleasure spreading entertainment and mild STD’s around Europe. Our hired axe is back again to unleash hellfire and damnation on our absent opponents. Chris “The Trashman” Jones is on the 1 week DL with a broken penis.

Meister out.

Bigger than Jesus Sponsors Underprivileged Youths; Just Kidding, "We Use Their Tiny Bodies for Fuel"

BTJ has begun their inevitable march back to the top of the leaderboard. Last week’s 4-0 sweep of Spicy Pot is the perfect lead-in to this week’s re-match with last season’s losers Multiple Scoregasm. Spicy Pot came into the match with an eye to at least take 2 points away from our heroes. Instead all they took was the collective BTJ giant team cock up their puckered browneyes. Team captain Steve had one comment after the final shellacking of his noble squad:

                               “No Comment.”

Strong words from a strong man. But really their loss was as predictable as a southerner’s stupidity. You see in the off-season BTJ has really gone to extremes in their perfection of the art of bowling. They built a brand new state of the art bowling center on the remains of an old Indian burial ground. It sports 52 glorious lanes each showcasing the various peculiarities and idiosyncrasies that can befall a bowling lane; from too oily, to not oily enough.

Paranormal investigators advised the BTJ crew that the land they were building on would be haunted by the ghosts of angry braves and medicine men. In response to their concerns, our own team medicine man and the guy who can punch your fucking throat out Adam “Gard Dawg” Gard said this:

                                 “Before we started building the
                                   foundation we just put down a
                                   bunch of smallpox infested blankets.
                                   That ought to shut them lousy
                                   ghosts up.”

To keep the facilities running at full power 24/7 365 we use the bodies of orphans as fuel. No one will miss them and it helps reduce the overall overpopulation in the world today. We tried going the charitable route, we tried making people less fortunate than us more comfortable. But the minute we faltered in our bowling those unwashed masses turned on us faster than Hogan turned on Macho Man*; so fuck em, we’ll use them to power our greatness in other ways.

A special envoy from the United Nations would probably try to use this portion of the post to complain about our treatment of street people. But when he showed up to investigate our practices we used him as the 1 pin in a BTJ strike-fest. Then we sent his battered remains back to NYC with a note informing them of our withdrawal from their ineffective and ridiculous institution.

Have we gone power mad? Did we let the championship rings bleed poisonous materials into our brains? Are we just plain loco? No, no, and no. Quite frankly we’re just taking our rightful place at the top of the TNT League and the bowling world as a whole. We’ve always been the most show-stopping, electrifying, crowd pleasing, rabble rousing squad of bowlers ever assembled. Now all you punk ass fools know it, and it scares the shit out of you. No other team is sexier, no other team performs every week running on all 8 cylinders, no other team looks this fucking hot in disco pants:

"Sorry ladies, I'm saving myself for awesome"

Meister out.

*If you're siding with Hogan in that feud then you know less about wrestling than you do about bowling. MISS ELIZABETH LIVES!!!!

BTJ Lives Up to Their Name, Rings Delivered Among Controversy

Six rings containing blood diamonds, and more pure gold than an OG has in his teeth were transported to Bayshore Lanes last Thursday. But they almost didn’t get there. El Presidente got wind of the rings and decided he and iL Padrino needed to line their already laden coffers even more. Using intel he gleaned from a TNT mole he sent a squad of Cuban special forces a.k.a. Hombres de Poca Habilidad to assault the route the rings motorcade was taking. Sadly for them they didn’t realize that the rings were being guarded by the newly formed, BTJ Gard. I almost feel bad for anyone tangling with the Adam “Gard Dawg” Gard trained BTJ Gard. No matter who you are, you’re going to lose. One spetnatz exchange officer commented, in a very thick Russian accent “These guys are for real-sies”.

Gunfire erupted on Lincoln boulevard (you wouldn’t have seen it on the news because we hushed that shit up) when the Hombres attacked. A force of 15 Hombres led the ill-fated assault, total expense for the BTJ Gard was the cost of 14 bullets. Two of the Hombres were killed with the same bullet.

It wouldn’t have mattered if they defeated the BTJ Gard anyway. I found out about El Corruptidente’s plans a full two days before hand. His system has obvious flaws in it, namely his VP Ravi Rajan was easily bought with the promise of high-fives and a beer. To say the man’s price is low is an understatement. But BTJ will support Rajan in his bid for the presidency next season because we’ve never owned an elected official before and it would be nice to have one.

So the rings got to us safe and sound. THEY ARE GLORIOUS!!! The superbowl champion NY Giants wept when they got a peek at our massively awesome bling. TNT decided they were going to re-boot Captain Planet after seeing the picture below.

This time however it’ll be called “Bigger Than Jesus is Better Than You Planet” I don’t like the title but I like the direction. EARTH, AIR, FIRE, HEART, RAPE!!!

Week 1 was a blip, we underperformed. I personally just got done with a 4 week bender of ether and absinthe in an old school Chinatown opium den. My head was foggy and the new handicap rule confused me. Everyone knows the on again, off again drama of Week 2.

Week 3 looked to be daunting, but it proved a crucial turning point. We met the mighty Danny Joyer. A new team on the TNT stage who had made some big waves by going 6-2 in two weeks. While BTJ entered week 3 with a measly 4-4 record. We needed something to rev us up and fresh meat was just the thing these 10 pin raping pederasts needed to fire up the BTJ Warp drive and commit some serious lane violations.

We sent Joyer home without any points or their dignity. They did get a lovely parting gift though…ass balm.

BTJ proves their worth and sits with a 8-4 record. How will they maintain this level of awesome-ness?

Maybe you heard about the eclipse this past Sunday? Well using a high school chemistry set and an elementary level understanding of Earth science I built a Solar Power Emission Receptacle Mobile suit or SPERMs for short. Using our sun’s very power and syphoning it off into each member of the team I have found a way for BTJ to dominate the world bowling stage for at least 50 years, and I did it while thinking green. So when you lose to BTJ you’re losing to people who use alternative forms of energy and care about Mother Earth.

Names Changes, Championship Rings, New Season...Yeah we Fuck Shit Up

The Bowling Wallendas begat B.I.L.F.s, who went on to dominate TNT to the brink of insanity with balls out bowling and a ne’er do well attitude. Seeing that they cannot continue along with that infamous name they’ve decided to re-brand like Kobe after the rape. Ladies and gentlemen of the universe I present to you the latest incarnation of the greatest collection of bowlers since Cobra collected the DNA of historical conquerors to create Serpentor…BIGGER THAN JESUS.

Does that name seem pompous? Does it anger you? Do you find yourself wanting to tune in just to see them lose? Well you’ll want to set your DVRs for this Thursday so you don’t miss a second of what will surely be an incredibly infuriating ring ceremony for our glorious former BILFs.

These rings are solid gold, opal, and diamonds. All these materials were taken from conflict countries because as most people know world conflict and local strife don’t affect the BILFs one bit. If we need diamonds, then we fucking get diamonds. If we need gold, then mother fuckers better be digging for gold.

The rings were designed by a nameless jeweler who went blind setting the 16 diamonds into their settings. Because after creating the most beautiful design in the history of ring making he felt he could stand to look at anything else in this miserable world and so stabbed his own eyes out. Sadly, we couldn’t take a chance that he would reveal our ring designs before their unveiling so we had to liquidate him. We cut out his tongue, lobotomized him, and strapped him to a rocket launched from Peru directly into the sun. Some say cutting out his tongue and lobotomy may have been overkill; well those same people probably never took into account aliens intercepting his rocket and discovering the design secrets.

Why go to such lengths when people are going to see these designs Thursday anyway? Knock-offs of course. When we announced the name change of BILFs to BIGGER THAN JESUS to league secretary il Padrino a day later we saw “official” Bigger than Jesus merchandise flood the bowling markets. A simple trace on the DBA (doing business as) for the makers of these products shows that they were manufactured and imported by El Presidente Industries. The guy does business under his own name, that’s how deep his talons are into the TNT hierarchy. We’re not even that mad that the market has been flooded with goods, we’re mad that they look so fucking tacky. Trust us, we’ll let you super fans know when legitimate BIGGER THAN JESUS merch is ready for sale.

Like keep an eye out for the certified and endorsed Heather “Doc” Krull training ball. You’ll probably start seeing print ads in upcoming issues The Economist and The New Republic. Why those mags and not something like Sports Illustrated or ESPN the Magazine? Because Bigger than Jesus is high class and we don’t need any slack-jaws glomming onto our train. The ball and accompanying DVD “Training Time with Heather” clocks in at a cool $50,000 a pop. Too pricey? Well we already have 7,344 pre-orders for that shit motherfuckers. So put your lips around that nipple and suck on it. The packaging is classy as fuck too, it’s Heather holding a ball up with one hand and the other hand pointing at the viewer with the copy reading “You wannabes think you can roll? I’ll teach you how to roll, you g-damned dimwits.” The DVD is a brisk 39 hours of Heather teaching you the ins and outs of bowling in the second position. I’m considered a master bowler and she brought my average above 300 by 23 pins. What’s that? Those numbers don’t add up? Check it with AMF foolios; we’re so good they had to adjust how things are scored to give other teams a chance. Anyway when we showed up to bowl this season I walked into the dankness that is Bayshore and took a whiff. You know what it smelled like? It smelled like a mother fucking 3-peat.