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Category Archives: random

Ahhhh vacation in Miami.  It gave me a chance to catch up with old friends, smoke some hooka, knock back a few cold brewskies, and as my friend [Dr. Doom] would say “RAGE!!” Read More »


On hooking up with fat/ugly girls: 

“I have a strategy.  I close my eyes and picture someone hot.” – Yums

After receiving a court summons for having an “open container” and subsequently calling out of work to nurse my hangover in bed, I knew it was going to be a crazy weekend. Read More »

Resume writing is tough.  I never quite understood this specific form of writing until recently.  I finally took the time to sit down, do my research, and thoroughly discuss it with my friends and family.  I will share with you what I found. Read More »

On a seemingly uneventful Monday, I took the bus back from the city just like any other day.  Little did I know, I was about to encounter…dun dun dun…The 40-year-old tool.

So it goes.

After handing the bus driver my ticket, I plopped down in my seat and decided it was an opportune time to call my girlfriend, Dr.Kermit.  The conversation was going steady as I politely inquired about her day like any other guy performing his boyfriend duties.  Things were just peachy until…

I felt a tap on my shoulder.  I turned to my right and see this 40-something-year-old man, lets call him “Dick.”  Dick happened to be reading a Dan Brown novel around the same time I was on the phone.  Apparently this did not sit well with Dick.  When I turned and acknowledged his existence, he gave me a condescending look and said, “Excuse me, but I believe there is a cell phone policy on this bus.”

I am was awe.  Never in my life have I encountered someone actually trying to enforce the cell phone policy on a public bus.  Getting over the initial shock I lashed back:

“So? You gonna tell on me like a bitch?”…is what I should have said.

What I actually replied was “I’m sorry, are you trying to read?”


“Alright then. (Back to Dr. Kermit) Hey babe, this old dude next to me is yelling at me to get off the phone,” I purposely said aloud.

Feeling “generous” he interjected. “Its okay, you can have five more minutes.”

5 minutes? Oh why thank you Bono of the bus…Damn number 2.

Reluctantly, I told Dr.Kermit that I would call her back later and hung up.  I sat there stewing in my dismay.  Out of the corner of my eye I could see him smirking.  It was the look of self satisfaction.  It’s not everyday that you get to put a strapping young lad in his place.  Dick felt empowered.

Feeling defeated, I was determined to take action.  I pulled out my phone discreetly texted Dr.Kermit.

It read:

Call me back in a few minutes, I want to piss this guy off.

Then I jacked up the volume until it reached the max setting.

My devious plan was set. I casually reclined my seat and pretended to sleep.  I let the phone buzz and ring to its tiny cpu’s content until I felt a tap on the shoulder.  I intentionally feigned ignorance until I felt another tap.  PreDICKtably it was Dick.

“Your phone is ringing,” he said with a glare.

In the snidest manner possible, I replied “Thanks.”

After picking up my phone, I carried on a long and senseless conversation with Dr.Kermit.  Most of the conversation consisted of her laughing while I pretended that I was talking to a long lost relative that I hadn’t seen in ages.

In my peripheral vision, I could see that Dick was seething with anger.  He wanted to say something but he knew that it would be have been futile.  His small victory was swallowed by my pointless conversation.  It seemed like he wanted to yell at me, but that would only make things worse for him and more hilarious for me.  His only move was to scoff and sulk while I continued to yap away.

When the bus reached my stop, I got up and shot him the same smirk that he was so proudly displaying before.  He buried his face deep into his book to avoid seeing me gloat.  I triumphantly turned and exited the bus.

Strapping young lad: 1                                       Dick: 0

Remember the pet rock? What a novel idea.  Who would’ve thought the public would be stupid enough to pay for a rock?  Most people would agree that the pet rock was a ridiculous scam that somehow fooled the minds of simpletons.

Silly rabbit, rocks are for idiots. Read More »

Ahh Thanksgiving.  A glorious tradition of binge eating until you are on the verge of rupturing your stomach.  I myself am a big fan of tradition.  Even if the tradition is stupid Especially if the tradition is stupid, I will follow it to the bitter end.  What do I think is the absolute best part about this particular tradition?

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Well it happened.  I now have a girlfriend.  Who knew it was possible?

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No offense, but post World War II Germany must have been a land of opportunity.  By the time they drafted 16 year olds, the bratwurst-fest that plagued the country existed no more.  Welcome to a new and sexier Germany.  Hallooooo Krankenschwester.  Do thoughts like these make me a bad person? Yes.  Is it callous and insensitive? Yes.  Am i going to come up with a redeeming quality to save myself from looking like a dick? No.  Gutentag.

Drinking from a flask makes you look badass even if it is filled with juicy juice.

People have been preaching that better technology makes life easier for us humans.  I find the opposite to be true.  I believe that technology actually makes life harder.  For instance, many jobs have become obsolete.  What happened to all the milkmen, cracker jack toy stuffers, and the guys that screw on that tiny toothpaste cap?  I’ll tell you what.  Technology happened.  It happened all over their faces.  Additionally technology is keeping people alive longer.  Increases in births and declining mortality rates due to medical advances will eventually lead to overpopulation.  If people keep fucking and nobody is dying, life’s gonna be tough.  Less jobs + higher population = a harder life.

Getting high is cheaper than getting drunk.

I am anti-water pong.  People who substitute water for beer are whats wrong with society.  I cannot respect those that blatantly shit on the integrity of the game.  It is called Beer Pong for a reason.  The first and foremost is because you drink beer, not water.  By filling a designated beer cup with water, you are taking something fundamentally pure and infesting it with all that is evil.  This once sacred game becomes an abomination.  Water pong defies the spirit of being drunk and merry and I just cannot agree with it.

A man of true genius is the man who first coughed to hide his flatulence.

I don’t get why people love sight seeing so much.  Is it so they can say “Oh, I’ve been there!” or do they legitimately love seeing something with their own eyes?  I mean it’s a reasonable request if you’re old or you’re unable participate in any type of physical activity…

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Friends from college, 5 days on a ship, all you can eat, gym, pools, basketball courts, and a bunch of miscellaneous activities.  Standard cruise vacation.

On the night of my friend’s birthday, we all decide to get really drunk.  I know, real shocking news.  He challenged our persuasive abilities by saying he would only drink, but there was no chance he would dance.  It was at that very moment, that I knew, he was going to dance.

(Advice for the future.  If it’s your birthday, stay away from making any bold claims, your friends will probably end up making you regret it.  It’s best you don’t give them any ideas).

If there’s one thing I know, it’s the power of peers and their fanatic pressure.  Mix in some alcohol and what you get is a wondrous concoction called drunken chanting.  As many of you may have experienced, drunken chanting is unstoppable.

We took turns buying him shots.  Alcohol was the first step in eroding his willpower to abstain from dancing.  Next stop.  The club.

Irrelevant side note:

Clubs are strange places.  An interesting notion occurs in these venues.  No guy ever goes to the club and thinks to themselves “Okay tonight, I’m just here to dance.”

No, they are at clubs for the bajingo.  Somehow, over the course of the night, a room of 100% girls will progressively metamorphasize into a sausage fest by the time the lights turn on.  I’m not even going to question this phenomenon, it’s just one of life’s great mysteries.  What I will question is, why do you girls complain about creepers when you go to the club?  You know what clubs entail, you know what’s up, why act surprised?

If you happen to be one of those breeders that complain about getting hit on at the club, you should probably KILL YOURSELF because you are an idiot.  Or you could just stop clubbing.  Whichever is easier.

Back to the story.

So we were in the middle of getting my drunken friend into the club to dance.  Shortly after scuffling in, we requested that the DJ play the enchanting and poetic ballad, “Birthday Sex” by Jeremih.  First of all, wow, who spells Jeremy like that?  I had to look up the artist for that song and already I can tell he is an asshole.

I digress.

While we were able to get the birthday boy to free form waltz to the beautiful resonance of “Birthday Sex,” I spotted a cute girl sitting by the bar looking rather lonely.

I waked over to her and asked for her name.  “I’m [Kaba] she replied.” We then went through the standard mating ritual of polite conversation.  Things were going well until she asked “Do you dance at all?”

Now, by no stretch of imagination could I be considered a good dancer.  At my very best, you could say that I’m capable of not looking retarded.  Of course, naturally when I’m drunk, I am the Michael fucking Jackson incarnate.

“Yea, I’m pretty good” I told Kaba.  Biggest mistake of the night.

We started off nice and easy kind of feeling each other out until she started going into this “wild monkey mode.”  It consisted of extreme booty shaking and lots of bouncing.  It’s hard to describe.  Needless to say, I was a bit overwhelmed but managed to stay calm during this dire situation and decided to go with the classic shimmy.  Probably not the best choice to go with, but my palette of dance moves are extremely limited.

I thought the worst was over until they started playing “her song.”  How did I know this was “her song?”  Well, once she heard this song over the speakers she exclaimed “Oh my God, this is my song.”

Yes I know, I’m psychic.

I figured this most people have songs that they liked, but this was different.  Upon hearing this song, she went into this twitching hip-hop style that even involved spinning on the ground and some jumping action.  It was like having America’s Best Dance Crew slapped in my face.  Soon, a crowd black guys took notice and decided to form a semi-circle surrounding us.  To make matters worse, they wanted to vocalize their approval in the form of a chant, which subsequently inspired Kaba to up the intensity level ten-fold.

In response to this, I put on my best “what the fuck is going on” expression and slowly backed away.  I noticed that some of my friends were watching and laughing hysterically.  It was about this time when I realized…


I just got served.