Gump For Heisman

The Pacman Jones Guide to Movies (and Gettin UNRATED wif Bitches)

By PACMAN JONES
Special to Gump4Heisman.com

Mother fuck.

It has been some shit of a long time since the Pacman learned all y’all blog-readin, no-pussy-gettin, jerk-off-blister-on-both-hands-havin’ asses how to be a motherfuckin’ man.

If my kid’s tuition serves me right, you Cusaks been smoking Virginia Slims, toting fuchsia carry-bags and watching ‘Notting Hill: Special Edition’ on DVD while you play spin-the-bottle wif dudes.

Have y’all man-sissies been worried? Shit. You know the Pacman ain’t leavin’ yo ass. Whenever you in doubt, just know this: the Pacman shall return. Just like General Douglas McDonald. When he done up and said “Fuck this smelly-rice Korea shit. I am going to start slangin’ cheeseburgers to fatty backs. In motherfuckin’ America.”

And the rest, as they say, is mystery.

Oh happy fuck. Today we is gon’ talk about an important shits in every man’s life. How to handle a situation that is bound to comes up when you gettin’ yo bitch on: watchin’ a flick, without ignorin’ yo dick.

What I means is, how to handle pickin’ out a movie wif a bitch, watchin a movie wif a bitch, how to make yo’ move, when to make yo’ move, and all the keys to gettin’ yo Michael Douglas on wif yo lil’ Sharon Stone.

Pacman, I’m on a date and I need help picking out a movie.

Well is you rentin’ or buyin?

Huh? But Pacman, these questions are supposed to be pre-scripted. I’m not supposed to be able to respond to a follow-up.

Man, these articles is like a reality TV show. Don’t nobody be believin’ this shit is real. They be knowin’ this shit is scripteder than a motherfucker.

‘Scripteder?’

Quit bein’ so motherfuckin’ Bryant Gumbelish and tell me: is you rentin’ or buyin?

OK, I’m renting.

Good. You ain’t supposed to be permanent-buyin’ nothin’ but food when you on a date with a bitch. Because all ‘bein on a date’ means is that you ain’t RegularFuckin™ yet. And as soon as you RegularFuckin™ a bitch, believe me, you gon’ be buyin’ plenty of shit. Shit like candles and decorative baskets and shit.

So rent all the shit you can for now. Rent a movie. Rent a car. Rent a room. Rent a midget. Hell, rent yo’ goddam meal if the restaurant’ll let ya. And tell ‘em you’ll be back to return it in three hours wif a roll of toilet paper and a day-old sports page.

Rent, rent, rent.

Who the fuck be payin’ for decorative baskets you ask?

Yo’ ass. When you RegularFuckin™ a bitch.

Pacman, what is RegularFuckin™?

RegularFuckin™ is a registered trademark of Pacman Jones.

Bitches have a word for it too. I believe it is called ‘relationship.’

But Pacman damn sure ain’t got no trademark on that shit. The bitches have had that one on lockdown ever since Eve pulled the ol’ Keep-a-Adam baby way back in, like, 1965.

Pacman Jones: How to Impress Your Bitch

By Pacman Jones
SPECIAL TO GUMP4HEISMAN.COM

SHIT. I FORGOT TO TAKE THE MOTHERFUCKIN CAPS LOCK OFF THIS BITCH. HOW DO IT WORK? THERe we go. Now leTS TA- FUCK. WAIT... GOt it.

Now. There is a lot of shit, BESIDES MOTHERFUCKIN CAPS LOCK, that is confusing in this world.



Top 5 things that confuse the Pacman:

5) If people go to work 5 days a week and church 1 days a week, is they God really they boss, or is they boss really they God?

4) If the grass is always greener on the other side, why they fuck them dudes always buyin they weed from me?

3) Why do they make glasses for the sun if you ain’t supposed to look at the motherfucker?

2) Why do people think the Pacman is sexist?

1) Bitches.

Bitches is more confusing than watchin' back-to-back episodes of “John From Cincinnati” with the motherfuckin’ SAP button on. Do you understand bitches? No. Unless you are a bitch. And we don’t wanna be outin’ no bitches in the third motherfucking paragraph.

OK, so we ain’t never gon’ understand the dickless motherfuckers. But we damn sure can still impress ‘em. And if you listen to the Pacman, you will impress ‘em bitch-by-bitch-by-bitch.

And remember. Yo daddy shoulda handled makin’ you into a man...

'Cause I’m about makin’ yo ass into a Pacman.

Pacman, I’m at my date’s door and I’ve brought flowers. Will that impress her?

Is yo date a motherfuckin dude? What in the name of Ditka is yo pink ass talking about? Flowers? Did you skip to her house or just ride in on the Magic Cock Wagon?

Sure. Flowers will impress her. If she is a dick-tucker. But if you want to impress a tru-to-the-game bitch, here is how you do it:

- money
- bling
- the size of yo junk

And this shit is like alcohol. Any combination will work. Money + bling. Junk size + money. Or all three. One time Pacman picked up a bitch wearing a bling chain that said “Hung Like Hercules” WITH his junk hangin out AND wrapped in $100 bills. Do you think the Pacman got laid that night? Do not even answer. It was a historical question.

Do you mean ‘rhetorical’?

Oh hell naw. I will straight fuck you up. How about I get all up over yo bedsheets and take yo bitch up the rhetorical?

Nasty? You fuckin’ right. This is the Pacman we talkin’ bout. Ain’t no need in being clean. ‘Less you a motherfuckin’ chef. And the only thing Pacman is cookin’ up is a D-soufflé. For yo’ motherfuckin' mama.

The Pacman Jones Guide to Manly-ass Dining

By Pacman Jones
Special to Gump4Heisman.com

OK motherbitches. I am back. Back as fuck. Back like when Arnold’s big German ass done walked up in the police station and said “Holy shit. I am a motherfucking robot.” Or whatever. And before y’all go all out and ask me “Pacman, are you back in the NFL?” No. I do not mean this. That is up to Roger Goodell. Who is a bitch.

I mean I am back to give y’all advice on shit. Last time I learned y’all how to pick shit out – like a man – when you in the grocery store. This time, we talkin’ bout how to pick out where to eat when you all hungry and shit.

Oh wait. What is that? Is you rolling your eyes? Does your Mayberry ass not like it when the Pacman cusses? Do you not appreciate the greatness of words like ‘shit,’ ‘fucking’ and ‘bitch?’

Well then shit on you, you fucking little bitch.

Pacman talks like Pacman fucks. Dirty. And if you don’t like it, go play in some motherfuckin’ traffic or somethin.’ Because that is some Mayberry shit.

Now. We have eliminated all the bitches, man-bitches, and bitch-bitches from this article. And like my boy Melvin P. Darwin said, it’s all about survival of the bigdicks. And if you listen to the Pacman’s “How-To” guides, you will become Mr. BigDick.

Pacman, I am really hungry! What should I do?

OK. First off, quit cryin’ to the Pacman about how much of a bitch you is. When a man is hungry, he can only proclaim this shit in certain ways. Do not whine. Proclaim shit.

The difference in whining and proclaiming shit is this:

Bryant Gumbel: Oh goodness! I have stumped my toe on this children’s toy! Oh my, this is painful!

Pacman Jones: Oh hell naw! This motherfuckin’ midget-gadget ‘bout to get fucked up!

See? You ‘sposed say at least one cuss word to tell folks how hungry you is. Here is another example:

Bryant Gumbel: Golly. I have achieved an intense level of hunger at this moment. I will now attempt to find an establishment to quell this reverberation in my stomach.

Pacman Joes: I am so motherfuckin’ hungry I could eat a horse or a really fat bitch!

See? This is how you let folks know you ‘bout to eat. It’s like – bam! – get the fuck up on out my way before yo’ ass gets ate the fuck up too.

Okay Mr. Pacman, where should I go to eat?

Whoa whoa. Hold up. Do not call me Mr. Pacman. Ever. That sounds like some 1978 arcade shit. And Pacman has a motherfuckin PS3. Because that’s how shit goes down in Pacman’s household. You think Pacman still plays a PS2? Fuck you. You know why Pacman doesn’t own no toilet paper? Because Pacman wipes his ass with PS2s.

Now, first things first. Every time you gon’ look for a place to grub – and I mean every damn time – you got to do one thing first. Here is the only question you need to think about:

Does your area code have a Hooter’s?

IF YOU ANSWERED YES: What you still readin’ for? Go grub on a titty burger.

IF YOU ANSWERED NO: Damn dog. You livin’ in some Mormon-ass shit. Pacman feels for yo’ ass.

'How to Grocery Shop Like a Man,' by Pacman Jones

PACMAN JONES
Special to Gump4Heisman.com

Alright. First off, do not fucking laugh at the Pacman for being suspended. Because that is some bullshit. If you talk shit about Pacman being suspended, Pacman will suspend your wife from his penis.

But Pacman, you say, I am not married. Does that mean I am free to talk mad shit about you?

Naw. Hell naw. Pacman can suspend mothers, stepmothers, fiancées and lady-friends from his penis too.

Besides, y’all should not talk down on Pacman. Yes, the Pacman has fucked up. This I know bitches, this I know. But now Pacman is trying to help, because Pacman ain’t got shit else to do. Pacman is tired of sitting at home and whipping out his manflesh to DVD porn. So Pacman thought, ‘why not help out the fellas?’ And while I was in the store the other day, I thought ‘there are some ass-sissy man-bitches running around this place.’ Somebody ought to learn they ass how to grocery shop like a man. A man’s man. A Pacman.

So here is Pacman’s guide to “How to Grocery Shop Like a Man” :

Proper behavior when first entering store.

Step the fuck away from that pushcart. A man uses the motherfucking carry crate. You know what I’m talking about, that small-ass thing what looks like a E.T. cradle or some shit. For now, we will call this your man-crate. I repeat: Do NOT grab a pushcart. You grab a pushcart, you might as well ask what isle the pink glittery dildos are on. Because you will be outed. As a queer-ass bitch.

You got a lot of shit to buy? Pile it up. And make that shit work. Because a man ain’t a man if a man ain’t a handyman.

Pacman-Pointer: A cart says “Hello. Where can I find the multi-pack tampons and strawberry yogurt?” A crate says “I’m here for some motherfucking condoms and a six pack.”