Carlyle the Spill Catchphrase Master

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Comment by The Phoenix on September 15, 2009 at 9:38pm

RI-GODDAMN-DICULOUS

Comment by Christopher on August 16, 2009 at 7:30pm

I hate when I throw out a quote and nobody gets it.

Comment by samuel chris lois on August 16, 2009 at 5:51pm

asssssssssssssssssssssssssssssstAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSTICC

Comment by Zombie Messiah on August 16, 2009 at 4:17am

Carlyle's VS Four Rednecks reminds of my hellish time living in Ventura, CA in the early 2000s with 3 roommates about the same age as me during our first time living away from home during our Freshman year at 'college'. I don't have a popular podcast with a buddy whom I can tell my stories to, so I'm going to write the whole mess out. I will refer to them by their their looks and describe why I hated them to pretty much explain why most of them weren't helpful during my own fight against 'rednecks'.

The Roommates:

Alfred E. Neuman looking guy who called himself a pimp, but suspiciously kept asking the rest of us how our big our dicks were so he could compare it to his supposed donkey dong. Oh, and he had a 15 year old ho back home.

The Milhouse Van Houtan to Alfred E. Neuman, if Milhouse tattooed his last name on his left man boob, and drove around in an old primer Chevy pick up with no windshield wipers, cruising on 22s on the back and 12s in the front. Oh, he kissed ass where we worked to prove he was 'manager material'.
Finally, the hip-hop DJ who never DJed and didn't do shit when I banged on his room door when he was banging his girl and let her know, "I want some pussy!". Days after that he acted like a pussy and dragged his girl away whenever she started chats with me.

Okay, those are the guys. This is the 'Man' Speech they gave me:

Alfred: "Why do you move out of the way of guys walking by us at the mall?"
Milhouse: "Yeah, you got to show those white guys they ain't shit."
Alfred: "Yeah, don't be a little bitch."
Milhouse: "If you ever run when some fools are stepping up on use we'll be the ones that kick your ass."
Alfred: "Yeah. You think those guys at the mall had bigger dicks than mine?"
DJ Poser: "Hey, guys a homie of mine invited us to a party at a secluded house in the Ojai mountains at night.
Milhouse looks to see what Alfred says.
Alfred: "Sounds, cool man! I can bust out the crip walk!" Then gets up and stars dancing and then tells me, "See, this is how you get pussy!"
Milhouse giggles.
DJ Poser looks at me and says: "Guess, we'll take that fool."
DJ Poser's cell phone rings.
DJ Poser: "Hey, baby. Nothing just here with the guys. Yeah, he's (me?) here, too. Why? Okay, bye." Locks himself in his room to scratch some Nas with some Mystikal.

We drive past two Mexican guys in a lowrider parked near the party house. We get the last drops from a keg in front and go inside the house. We sit on some old furniture in a shitty living room with the rest of the people walking around and mingling like you are supposed to at parties.

Alfred: "Hey, look at the white girl! She's wearing a thong."
Milhouse: "Really. I can't see it."
Alfred: "Dude, if you had a bigger dick you could tell when hos wear thongs."
I self reflect: "Where the real booty at?"
DJ Poser: "I'll be right back." He outside to call his girl to tell her where he is, what's he's doing, and who's he's doing it with.
Alfred: "Look, that bull dog's drunk!"
Drunk Bulldog looks up at them, stops smiling, shakes his head, throws away his bottle of Jack Terrier (Jack Daniel's for dogs) and walks away.
Milhouse giggles.
DJ Poser comes back and tells us we have to leave.
Alfred: "Why what's wrong?"
DJ Poser: "Just come on! Let's go!".
We all look at each other and get up and start to leave.
I'm behind DJ Poser who is talking to Milhouse.
I hear something about someone throwing a brick thru the back window of the lowrider the Mexicans were sitting in and that the Mexicans called the cops.
We started to walk out the front yard's wire fence's small gate door.
Like Carlyle, I look back to if my 'homie', in this case Alfred, was behind me. I didn't see him, I turn back around towards the way I was going and see Poser DJ and Alfred's BFF, Milhouse, running to their respective trucks.
I stop and turn around to see where Alfred is.
He's doing the opposite of the 'cobra technique' and actually fighting off four other guys.
From the crowd chasing us, I hear a woman's voice say, "You better run." Yeah, it was the white girl wearing a thong.
I stop looking at her boobs, and look back at 'my homie' who's still swingin when a brick hit his head.

Well, I pretty much realizing that the fact that we four were the only minorities at the party (every one was white) and that the other minorities close by were Mexicans that got attacked meant were being attacked by what were at the very least rednecks.

At work, a day after the 'party', my white co-worker (who I made fun of for having a name from the Bible) who I told about the party said we were most likely at a white supremacist (aka rednecks with more self-confidence) party since they live all over the mountains in Ojai, CA. I got along better with this white guy more than my roommates that were supposed to be my 'homies' because we were the same race.

Back at the party I was conflicted, since Alfred was everything I hated about people and we never got along was now being attacked by about 6 six guys trying to bring him down with whatever they could as he kept moving towards DJ Poser's far off truck, and more guys looking for a brown person to hit I wasn't sure what to do.

On one side, I hated this fuckers for thinking I was a coward and on the other side I fucking hate racists of any kind. So, I went all 'Rage Against the Machine" and Gandhi (respect) at the same time.

Meaning, I yelled a bunch of shit to piss off 'the man', but I didn't 'use violence' to break their face.

As if the English language had died in my brain, in my 'native' language I yelled:

"Let's Go! Come on! Get over here! Leave them!"

Then to make sure the fuckers understood what I meant, in English I yelled,
"Yeah, I'm speaking (insert any language listed on hospital fliers that says 'an interpreter is available')!"

All while I was back peddling and Alfred did the same except he was punching one guy while 7 others punched him.

I mostly kept on eye to see if any of my racial pride yells had drawn some guys away from that dick minded, Alfred.

When I saw enough guys either stayed back or started walking towards me that it allowed Alfred to run to wherever I hoped DJ Poser was waiting in his truck. Then I started to jog, not run, just take a gingerly jog. There's no way they were gonna' see me sweat.

Milhouse's Chevy's passenger doesn't open from the outside (if both doors worked he wouldn't have street cred). Oh, and the passenger side window was rolled all the way up, you know it's hard to think when Cypress Hill how fun it is to have your own garden.

Lucky for me, some weeks ago, Alfred tried to open but completely shattered the little window between the regular window while cruising and the door frame.
Milhouse, being street concious hadn't covered the missing window with cardboard or duct tape is Lesson #1 in keeping your 'classic' car ho infested.

So, I looked at Milhouse while moving the 'just for looks' door handle up and down. Milhouse, looks the my right and then to me, the he shrugs his shoulders.
They I remember I must have been born with long arms for a reason, I reached thru the small space that still had glass from the broken window, and lifted the door lock and opened the door from the outside. I forgot the door did work, and I just assumed the door was unlocked, but couldn't open because it was broken. Guess I made an 'Ass' out of 'u' and 'me'.

Before I opened the door a guy a foot shorter than me (I'm 6'2"), that was so pissed he could only 'power walk' behind me as I jogged to the truck, suckered punched. I retaliated immediately by saying,"What the hell?". I found it hysterical that I finally met a guy with 'short' and 'white' man syndrome.

After I got myself in the car we got the hell out of there.

I asked Milhouse: "Where's Alfred?"
Milhouse: "I think he left with DJ Poser."
Me and Milhouse hadn't for some reason gotten a joint cell phone plan yet, so we couldn't find out how the other two minorities in a Chevy pick up truck were doing until we got home.
Me: "You know how to get home?"
Milhouse: "Yeah, dude. I remember the way we came."
Me: "You okay to drive?"
Milhouse: "Yeah dude, I just had two beers and I'm not even buzzing."

When we got home we followed a trail of blood into our 1st floor apartment.

I asked DJ Poser where Alfred was.

DJ Poser: "He's bleeding over sink in the restroom. Fucker bled all over my seats. What happened to you guys?"

Me: "Nothing." Yes, after all that shit I still say nothing. No "where the fuck where you guys?" or "who's the coward know? " macho bullshit from me.

Milhouse giggles and then says: "These fool got fucking rocked and he didn't even hit the guy back!"

DJ Poser: "Pssst. This fool..."

Then it felt to me I was in a situation like the scene at the end of Taxi Driver (SPOILERS! RUN!) after Travis Bickle kills all the bad guys, the last one in front of Iris, then tries to shoot his brains out with any gun he can find out the floor only to find that their empty.
Not what else to do, he drags up his bloody bullet ridden body and sits down on a couch next to a hysterical Iris. When two cops show up with guns drawn, Travis can't help but find it hysterical that he was denied death, the only way he can stop loneliness, even he was the only one that wanted to die.

He looks up at the cops and smiles. With his only good arm's bloody hand he makes boys' first 'toy' gun that they use to shoot bad guys, points it the side of his Mohawk, and plays pretend by firing three blood dripping blasts to try to kill one more bad guy. Of course, that's my own interpretation of what Travis might be thinking.

For anyone that cares and can relate to real people in pretend land (movies) here's the scene I'm talking about (spoilers):


I wasn't feeling like I was stuck in a hopeless place like Travis. I just couldn't believe there are people who are real life stereotypes and don't even know it.

These are the only types of movies those fools think exist:

First a movie about the way some see themselves. Not as individuals, but another perfect member of the only people they know matter, people like them:

Go to the YouTube URL of that clip to see people that say the movie represents them, but they act exactly like the people the movie is supposed to be against. Try to tell the difference between their posts and gang graffiti.

This movie is one of my all time favorites, but not good enough to be the only comedy I would watch at least 8 times a month for 2 years:


So, I won't have to write another post: Does anyone have a link to any audio clip or page where Carlyle says the catchphrase ASSSTAAASSSTICC!? I'm not saying he never said it. I am saying that I haven't heard him say it in the few audio segments he is in that I have heard. I've heard Co-Host 3000 say his catchphrase, "Zombie Titties In Your Face!" in a podcast. Co-Host 3000 also references his catchphrase on his page. I would like to hear Carlyle say, "ASSSTAAASSSTICC!" so I can put a sound to the word.

Comment by Jalford on August 15, 2009 at 9:57pm

Comment by EDDIE on July 25, 2009 at 12:37pm

This group is not ASSSTAAASSSTICC!

Comment by Oswaldo1214 on January 30, 2009 at 11:27pm

thanks see youu around!!!!!