Thursday, November 27, 2008

ooohhh, more advice!

again, stolen from!

Dear Lynn,

My boyfriend is the perfect guy—kind, romantic, generous, loving, caring, and ready to commit wholly to us. He has introduced me to every member of his family. We have a long-distance relationship because we go to schools in different states. But there is a particular girl he calls every day, sometimes much more than he calls me. He calls her sometimes first thing in the morning, and they exchange text messages about how they miss each other and other emotional words. I have confronted him but he claims they are just friends.

The last straw was when he took her to Disneyworld about a month ago — without my knowledge — to help take care of his nieces and nephews. He bought me a ticket but I couldn't go at the last minute due to academic commitments. He claims that he could not have taken care of the kids alone and knew that if he had told me I would have made a big deal out of nothing. He apologized profusely and insisted that nothing is going on between them. He spends Valentine’s Day and every major holiday with me, has met my parents and is very eager to please them. I have warned him that if his closeness to her continues I would leave. He says that I am being paranoid. What do I do? — Am I Being Paranoid?

...and I weigh in:

Dear Lynn,

You are NOT being paranoid. Maybe just oblivious. It's obvious your boyfriend just wants a threesome. You need to ask yourself one question: Who are you to deny him, the man you love, this god-given right?

He's making nice, and getting friendly with this other woman to, you know, warm her up. He's prepping her for the threesome experience. Yeah, you may be left out a little bit (for now), but don't worry, you'll get yours. However, for now, it's important that you know your place. Your job is to wait in the wings until the new girl is brought up to speed. Be supportive, offer your help. Trust me, he could probably use it.

The best thing you can do is embrace this. Go ahead, make your boyfriend the happiest man alive by letting him blast two (2) hot chicks at the same time. Please, I encourage you to read up, learn exactly how to make this the best experience of his life.

When that magical night finally does happen, and your boyfriend's dreams really do come to fruition, you can smile knowing that you played a major role. He will appreciate you so much more. Next, prepare to be kicked to the curb - because what kind of self-respecting dude wants to marry some trashy broad who's going to be doing threesomes? Who knows what other skeezy things you've been up to....are you even clean? GTFO, cause baby you ain't marriage material.

If you truly love him, set him free.


Wednesday, November 26, 2008

a moment of peace

Actually it's been more than a moment. More like a couple weeks of peace. I can now log into facebook each morning and not see every douchebag with an election-flavored status change:

Johnny Q Loserstein is donating his status to remind everyone to vote for John McCain

Chumpy McKnowitall is donating his status to remind everyone to vote for Barack Obama

Yeah, I get it. You're 23 years old and you think you know about politics. That's cute. You can watch Fox News, or you can read That's awesome.

I never thought I'd say this, but it's really great to get back to reading statuses about 'omg missed Grey's Anatomy last night', 'not wanting to be at work right now', and a whole bunch of other stupid, trivial shit.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

best commercial ever

This commercial gets me pumped up. End of story.

Maybe it's the blonde chick, or maybe it's that everyone's having a good time. I don't know what it is, and I don't particularily give a FUCK, but I know I could watch this commercial every day.

And it's messed up because I don't even like Coke products. I'm a Pepsi man.

Monday, November 24, 2008

some people need to die

I was flipping through the channels 2 weekends ago, while laying in bed all day (more on that later) and I came across this peculiar television show.

It was these fucking douchebag shitdicks playing that video game, Rock Band, all dressed up - people were cheering, and going this was a real concert or something. Then the audience had to vote for who did the best job.


A goddamn game show watching fuckheads play videogames.

And the sick thing is, the hosts of the show were getting all into it, talking about the great performances. That's so fucked up.

Friday, November 21, 2008

something interesting i just read/made up

We all fart.

Don't even lie. You do it. You know you do it.

I do it (better than you).

We all do it.

But did you know that your farts are more than just smelly air?

You know how when you have an empty bottle of like, Hershey's Chocolate Syrup...and when you give it that last squeeze - a fine chocolatey brown mist squirts out all over your ice cream, or your face or whatever?

That's exactly what happens to your underwear when you fart.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

dear douchebag in the pontiac,

Hi, I don't know if you remember me, but we were both heading South on 34th St earlier this week. As we approached a traffic light, you decided to pull ahead of me and cut me off. No worries though, I just pulled to your right and was up at the stop light right next to you.

You may recall my look of disgust and pity, when I looked over at you. Maybe you remember my brief chuckle when I eyeballed you, your troll-esque girl, and your shitty ride.

Certainly you must remember me rolling my eyes as you sat there at the stoplight with your windows down, your shitty rap music blaring, and your cute little engine revving. Yeah, I caught you looking over at me, giving me 'the eye'. And yeah, I was down to race.

Now I know you remember what happened when the light turned green. After all that engine revving, all your eyeballing me, and your girl checking out my ride..after all that...I know you remember me blowing right the fuck by you, like you were sitting still. Did you even hit the gas, motherfucker?

It is not my intention to embarrass you, I think we both know you don't need any help in that department - well, as long as you keep driving that cute little Pontiac around.

If you take one thing from this letter, please take this: if you're going to insist on racing dudes with faster cars than you, maybe instead of blowing some ching on those shitty rims, you might want to just go ahead and buy more car.


Wednesday, November 19, 2008

do you have the time

to listen to me whine, about nothing and everything, all at once....

I go to Publix every Monday morning before work to pick up some food for lunches for the week. There's this crazy cashier there that just seems like a basket case. She's so nervous and timid looking...that I can't help but lol.

She's always there and I don't like to go in her line, but this morning it was the only one open.

It's hilarious, she always looks down when she talks to me. BITCH I AIN'T ON THE FLOOR.

When I left the store this morning, I immediately thought of this song, and how this broad manages to get through each day without killing herself. I wonder what her homelife is like. I bet when she get's home she just mopes around watching like the 8 different soap operas that she recorded on VHS tapes.

I'd be willing to bet that she just walks around her tiny house in a bathrobe, eating ice cream, and has a lot of cats.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

you breakin' the law bro?

I can't tell you how many times I've heard pussies bitch about getting a speeding ticket.

"I was only going 5 over."

"I was only going 7 over."

Wait, so you were going OVER the speed limit? Isn't it illegal to go OVER the speed limit? Maybe I'm missing something, but that's breaking the law...and you just got busted. Get over it, fuckin' pussy.

Jesus Christ, if your going to bitch about something as silly as you knowingly breaking the law, and getting busted for it - I can only imagine how horrible the rest of your life has to be.

Do you have a wife? She hates you, and she's probably sleeping with the mailman.

Do you have kids? They hate you and you're a horrible dad.

What about your parents? They're still in disbelief at how they raised such a crybaby pussy.

Your co-workers? They want you dead.

Your insurance agent? He's trying to drop you because of the company's firm "no douchebag pussy" policy.

Your boss? You're gonna get fired tomorrow when you get into the office.

The dudes at your gym? They contemplate dropping the barbell ON YOUR FUCKING NECK every time they spot you when you bench.

The lady at the coffeeshop you hit everymorning before work? You've been drinking coffee + cream + spit for a year and a half now, dick.

Guys at your local gun range/shop? They sold you a faulty gun on purpose.

Next week:

"But honey, I only laid mad pipe up in my secretary one time!"

Monday, November 17, 2008

the peace sign

Nowadays I see celebrities flashing the peace sign all the time. But I recall a time when I used to flash the peace sign. Back when it stood for something. Yeah back then, the peace sign was my official "what's up" sign. I'd flash it at some bitch, and she'd immediately know what's up.

I ain't makin' some lame political statement about peace, or any other crappy ideals. I hate peace. I want carnage. And I ain't talkin' about the classic villain from the Spiderman comics either. I'm talking about straight up death 'n destruction. And by death 'n destruction, I ain't talkin about the 80's-90's death metal and thrash bands, either.

I'm talking about an all out bloodbath. And when I say bloodbath, you best know I isn't referring to the Swedish death metal band.

No way Jose, I'm talking about good old fashioned mayhem. When I say mayhem, I'm definitely not talking about the Norwegian black metal band - with the singer who killed himself and the guitarist who was stabbed to death.

Not the case here, I'm talking about armageddon. No, not the sweet Ben Affleck movie from the late 90's.

I think you know what I'm trying to get at.

Friday, November 14, 2008

nervous trepidation

Great use of a big word! I know, right.

Anyway, the title of this post sums up how I feel every time I walk into the bathroom at work. We have 2 small bathrooms here at the office. One has a stall and a urinal; the other has a stall plus 2 urinals. I usually hit the latter.

I always get this queasy feeling in my stomach whenever I put my hand on the disease-ridden doorknob...not because of the syphillitc swine that are prone to putting their greasy, non-handwashing mitts on it, but because I never know if someone is gonna be in there spilling some urine, or dropping a deuce. And I hate when some dude is in there blasting away, without locking the door.

Furthermore(!), I don't really like going to the bathroom around other people. Especially at work. But get me on the basketball court, and I'll shit all over you, son.


Are you supposed to talk to the person in the urninal next to you? Do you look over to make eye contact? What if I look over to make eye contact - in the middle of exchanging pleasantries, and the other dude doesn't - and out of the corner of his eye he just sees me looking over at him, potentially checking out his dong? Is that awkward?

I mean, I'm not checking out anyone's dong; I'm just trying to be polite. My father always told me that a real man will look you in the eyes when he's talking to you.

I'm not sure if that applies at the urinal.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

one last wish

Once upon a time, I went to college. And while I was in college, I had roommates. This is one of my roommates:

He was a good roommate. Sadly, he died.

One of the last things he wanted before he passed was for me to make a blog post about him. I hope he sees this from up there in Roommate Heaven. Maybe he'll think twice about using my foreman grill and not cleaning it, up there.

RIP, bro.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

david letterman droppin mad wisdom

A couple nights ago David Letterman was interviewing one of the retards on The Hills. It's some lame scripted reality show on MTV. You may recognize the name Lauren Conrad, Heidi, Spencer, or my girl Audrina Patridge (seen below).
Anywho, David Letterman was interviewing Lauren Conrad (known as LC to some of us), and he's generally just ripping on her, and the show, and the douchebags that are on it.

Then he busted out a line of wisdom that really hit me right in my little black heart of coal:

"...For a long time–10, 15, 30, 40 years–I thought, ‘Jeez people are idiots.’ And then it occurred to me, ‘Is it possible everyone’s an idiot?’ Maybe I’m the idiot.”

It's true, as most of you are aware, I hate everybody. But Mr. Letterman really made me contemplate my place in this world.

Maybe the problem is me. Maybe everybody hates me. Maybe everybody thinks I'm stupid.

Nah, fuck it.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

message to mormons: stop baptizing dead jews

I was browing to get my daily fill of liberal bias for the day, when I stumbled across this gem. I didn't even read the article, but I immediately thought two (2) things:

1. ROFL, and
2. Wow, if I post about this, it may make up for my horrible post from this morning.

Here, take a ride in the roflcopter:

i walk alone

I walk alone

I wear cologne

I wok alone

I walk alone

Wow that was retarded, sorry about that.

Friday, November 7, 2008

i read men's health

Yeah I do. My brother bought me a subscription for xmas. Generally it's a pretty good read - until I got to it this morning. Then I had a rofl attack, and immediately had an idea for a blogpost.

Some dickbiter wrote into the quasi-advice column asking about his job - and we all know who else does advice columns too, right? does! Who would I be if I didn't weigh in on these 2 losers conversing about work and corporate life? Probably just another faceless schlub, that's who.

Anway, the dude wrote in about how he finishes his work on time, and always leaves the office right at 5. He was worried his boss would look negatively on him. First thing I thought was that he was maybe a co-worker or something. Nah, turns out he was from some inbred breeding ground like Arkansas. Didn't even know they had jobs there yet. Sorry Arkansastananians.

So the writer at Men's Health wrote back something about 'you gotta play the game', and maybe volunteering your time to take on extra work, and staying late sometimes. Being a kiss-ass loser. And then I thought for sure he worked where I work.

Seriously though, WAIT UP A SECOND, hold the buck. What kind of retard wants to do EXTRA work, and not be compensated for it? Is it my job to pick up the slack for some incompetent dipshit? I don't think so dude.

Call me selfish, call me a dick, just don't call me late for dinner. Cause yo, I don't like being hungry; and I don't like doing other people's work. Oh, and one last thing, fuck you.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

the butterfly

Also worth noting from the traffic jam blog a short while back: while sitting there in traffic on the highway, there were a bunch of police cars, an ambulance or two, and a firetruck just blowing by us, on the shoulder of the road. My guess is they were probably trying to get to the dickheads that caused the accident.

So, I'm sitting there looking out the window, and in a fleeting moment of clarity, I see a butterfly flying around like a retard. Just like a flying retard.

As I roll my window down, I hear sirens. Then I see a firetruck coming like a bat out of hell, right for the butterfly...on my left, on the shoulder of the road.

The poor little butterfly has no idea what's about to happen it. It's about to get pounded into dust by a big bad-ass firetruck. Oh shit, here it comes.

Collision is imminent - I can see the firetruck approaching in my rear-view mirror.

At the last second, with a sigh and a gasp, I look away in horror.

Realizing the firetruck is now ahead of me, and has absolutely mushed the poor little butterfly, I am overcome with waves of apathy, disgust, sadness, and of course, unbridled rage.

Before I can even start yelling at Heckyeahwoman, out of the corner of my eye I see movement! What can it be?

Wait! What's this!?!?! Through my weeping, tearfilled eyes I see the butterfly flying around looking a little dazed and confused!

The butterfly survived!

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

a revelation:

Being rock hard is not all it's cracked up to be. It's true.

It's science.

I guess, as kind of a side note, I'm not sure why I posted this. I keep a notebook with me, and whenever I get a good idea for a blog, I write it down. Well, this little phrase made it into the notebook.

It sat there for a few weeks, until I was either going to make it into a blog, or throw it out. We're all familiar with the genius that spews forth from my brain, so we know it's not getting trashed.

So here we are, a shitty blog. Just for you.

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

change we can believe in

Today I'm going to eat "hot" buffalo wings instead of just the same "medium" buffalo wings, like I always do. Now that's the kind of change I can believe in.

Also, some of you are probably aware that today is election day. Maybe you aren't. Well everybody should go out and vote. Unless of course you will be voting for Obama or Mccain - then please don't bother voting at all.

Monday, November 3, 2008

why am i still single?

Well obviously I'm not. For good reason too - look at me, I'm a physical specimen. Sadly, not everybody is a victim of devastatingly handsome good looks, such as myself.

A bit of advice for you rather physically unappealing mouth breathers out there:

If you continue to live a life where you indulge in every shitty food you can get your sausage fingers on; if you refuse to get a little exercise - let alone go outside to see the sun a little, not only will you die alone, but you'll die unhappy.