Righto then, let's get right down to it.
What's the difference between men and women? Thought of it yet? Had
any good ideas? Here's your answer you crazy kids:
Men can sleep with someone they hate.
Simple, right? You didn't know it would be so easy, but it is. Think
about it: a woman could not sleep with anyone that she truly despised.
Sleep with someone she doesn't particularly like? Sure. Sleep with a
near stranger? You bet. Sleep with someone to get back at someone else
she hates? Absolutely. But actually, physically, spread her legs and
allow a hated wiener betwixt her thighs? Never. Couldn't do it.
Men however? Yup. We even have a term for it; it's called a hate-fuck.
Here's a conversational for-instance:
"Hey Bill... I hear your boss is a real bitch."
"God is she ever. She's ruining my life and will probably cost me my
job."
"That sucks. Didn't she also run over your kids?"
"Yeah, a couple of 'em. God I'd just like to hate-fuck the shit outta
her!"
And Bill would do it too, by jiminy.
So there you have it. Go forth and copulate this weekend secure in the
knowledge that you do, finally, have the answer to life's greatest
mystery.
Tweet
Friday, April 30, 2010
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Day 18: Women's 90 Day Effect
I spoke with a lady-blogger friend of mine last night who told me
something I absolutely did NOT know about women. She claims that her
theory is well-documented, but maybe some of you readers can weigh in.
So how long can you (women) go without sex before it gets, uh, bad?
(bad= subjective). Apparently there is a "90 day rule" in effect
whereby women can only go 90 days without some you-know-what (psss: it's
sex!) before they start going stir-crazy for leg spreading and dropping
their standards (and underwear). Here's a roughly paraphrased
description of what happens:
"After 90 days I start to lower my standards and see more positive
attributes regardless of negative ones. For instance, I might think
'hey, that guy has a well-defined jawline... underneath all that acne.'
Sometimes I even have to make sure my friends know my situation so they
can keep me from making poor decisions."
What? Really? I had two thoughts right away. The first is that maybe
this 90-day thing is the reason that those man-whores out at the bar
exist. They know that they can go down the line at any bar and maybe
find a chick that is "in the zone" who will take them home just to
refresh their vagina clock. Evolution at work?
Second, how do we men- famed for our inattentiveness- recognize you
ladies when you are...uh, in heat? As it were. Is this some
well-guarded secret that you have deliberately kept from men so that we
can't take advantage of your weakness? Like vampires before people knew
about garlic and silver? I want to know and will pay top dollar for the
secret.
If this is true, which is yet to be verified, this will be the most
dramatic revelation about women I have had since I learned that women
do, in fact, poop.
So ladies: 90 day rule? Yes or no? Tweet
something I absolutely did NOT know about women. She claims that her
theory is well-documented, but maybe some of you readers can weigh in.
So how long can you (women) go without sex before it gets, uh, bad?
(bad= subjective). Apparently there is a "90 day rule" in effect
whereby women can only go 90 days without some you-know-what (psss: it's
sex!) before they start going stir-crazy for leg spreading and dropping
their standards (and underwear). Here's a roughly paraphrased
description of what happens:
"After 90 days I start to lower my standards and see more positive
attributes regardless of negative ones. For instance, I might think
'hey, that guy has a well-defined jawline... underneath all that acne.'
Sometimes I even have to make sure my friends know my situation so they
can keep me from making poor decisions."
What? Really? I had two thoughts right away. The first is that maybe
this 90-day thing is the reason that those man-whores out at the bar
exist. They know that they can go down the line at any bar and maybe
find a chick that is "in the zone" who will take them home just to
refresh their vagina clock. Evolution at work?
Second, how do we men- famed for our inattentiveness- recognize you
ladies when you are...uh, in heat? As it were. Is this some
well-guarded secret that you have deliberately kept from men so that we
can't take advantage of your weakness? Like vampires before people knew
about garlic and silver? I want to know and will pay top dollar for the
secret.
If this is true, which is yet to be verified, this will be the most
dramatic revelation about women I have had since I learned that women
do, in fact, poop.
So ladies: 90 day rule? Yes or no? Tweet
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Day 17: "Dear Caleb" Sweet Samplings
I had some early entries for my "Dear Caleb" advice column, and thought I would answer them and post so that you might get an idea of my wisdomosity. These are real stories, with only names and distinguishing remarks left out.
Dear Caleb,
I am currently dating a girl but plan on breaking up with her. She's nagging, whining, jealous, and went from the fun person I knew when we dated to an evil she-demon now that we're official. I was planning on waiting until after Prom this weekend to break up with her, but I was wondering if I should just do it now. What should I do?
- Inevitable Procrastinator in Iowa
Dear Inevitable,
Can you get a hummer from someone else if you dump her now? That's the question you need to ask yourself. If you are convinced that your wiener would remain dry and un-slurped if you were to go stag, then hang on to her for the weekend; no sense giving up your prom-desert. If, however, you think you have the slightest amount of game then dump her now and free yourself up for some prom girls (think sexy underwear, hot dresses, and low self-esteem). Plus, you'll have a dashing combination of confident decider on the one hand and slightly wounded and vulnerable recently-broken-up-with sad guy vibe on the other. It'll be like someone tied lead weights to the bottom of every girl's panties for you, guy. Make the right call.
CSS
Dear Caleb,
My boyfriend and I recently upped our sex life by orders of magnitude and are now getting it on way more often than we used to. Does this mean that I can stop giving him bjs?
- Humping in Hartford
Dear Humping,
No.
CSS
And now for the word of the day: shenanigator. Noun. Person who instigates shenanigans. Some shenanigator just tried to order 6 whoppers from the McDonalds drivethru window!
Use it as all you want.
Happy hump day!
PS go be ironic and do some actual humping today. You know you want to! Tweet
Dear Caleb,
I am currently dating a girl but plan on breaking up with her. She's nagging, whining, jealous, and went from the fun person I knew when we dated to an evil she-demon now that we're official. I was planning on waiting until after Prom this weekend to break up with her, but I was wondering if I should just do it now. What should I do?
- Inevitable Procrastinator in Iowa
Dear Inevitable,
Can you get a hummer from someone else if you dump her now? That's the question you need to ask yourself. If you are convinced that your wiener would remain dry and un-slurped if you were to go stag, then hang on to her for the weekend; no sense giving up your prom-desert. If, however, you think you have the slightest amount of game then dump her now and free yourself up for some prom girls (think sexy underwear, hot dresses, and low self-esteem). Plus, you'll have a dashing combination of confident decider on the one hand and slightly wounded and vulnerable recently-broken-up-with sad guy vibe on the other. It'll be like someone tied lead weights to the bottom of every girl's panties for you, guy. Make the right call.
CSS
Dear Caleb,
My boyfriend and I recently upped our sex life by orders of magnitude and are now getting it on way more often than we used to. Does this mean that I can stop giving him bjs?
- Humping in Hartford
Dear Humping,
No.
CSS
And now for the word of the day: shenanigator. Noun. Person who instigates shenanigans. Some shenanigator just tried to order 6 whoppers from the McDonalds drivethru window!
Use it as all you want.
Happy hump day!
PS go be ironic and do some actual humping today. You know you want to! Tweet
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Day 16: Movie Quotes, Skirts, and The Advice Column
Figured out the difference between men and women yet? Someone today
told me the difference between girlfriends and wives... 25 pounds.
True?
Watch "The Blind Side" with Sandra Bullock. She ROCKS that white skirt.
When I claim that I am a "skirt man" (as opposed to a boobs or ass or
face man), that's what I'm talking about. Plus, I love the character
she plays. Bitchy, bossy, opinionated, assertive, anal-retentive,
ultra-organized, and always dolled up. Male chauvinist? Perhaps.
Some jerk quizzed me on a movie quote that I can't figure out. The
quote is : "I shall call you Caleb; I've always admired that name."
What movie is it from!? Help!
Update #1: I'm going to start a "Dear Caleb" advice column that strives
to "keeps it real." So, I'll be accepting your questions and problems
for a week or so and then featuring them in this blog. Send it to my
email or post it as a comment! Trust me: my advice is gold.
Update #2: I have an upcoming date with, you guessed it, a girl. I'll
give you the skinny when it goes down, but I'm going to make a pre-game
prediction right now that she is going to be a bit obsessively clingy.
I have no evidence to support this theory yet, but I have a gut feeling.
I want to go on record now so that, if I'm right, I have proof of my
precognizance.
Also, I'm going to introduce you to one of my favorite terms ever: No
Value Added (NVA). You know the type of people that add absolutely NO
positive contributions to work (or life, sometimes). Use this term
sparingly so that it retains its power. i.e., I know of only 2
true-blue NVAs. One day maybe I'll share the story of monkey-thumb.
::shudder::
Peace out, girl scouts. Tweet
told me the difference between girlfriends and wives... 25 pounds.
True?
Watch "The Blind Side" with Sandra Bullock. She ROCKS that white skirt.
When I claim that I am a "skirt man" (as opposed to a boobs or ass or
face man), that's what I'm talking about. Plus, I love the character
she plays. Bitchy, bossy, opinionated, assertive, anal-retentive,
ultra-organized, and always dolled up. Male chauvinist? Perhaps.
Some jerk quizzed me on a movie quote that I can't figure out. The
quote is : "I shall call you Caleb; I've always admired that name."
What movie is it from!? Help!
Update #1: I'm going to start a "Dear Caleb" advice column that strives
to "keeps it real." So, I'll be accepting your questions and problems
for a week or so and then featuring them in this blog. Send it to my
email or post it as a comment! Trust me: my advice is gold.
Update #2: I have an upcoming date with, you guessed it, a girl. I'll
give you the skinny when it goes down, but I'm going to make a pre-game
prediction right now that she is going to be a bit obsessively clingy.
I have no evidence to support this theory yet, but I have a gut feeling.
I want to go on record now so that, if I'm right, I have proof of my
precognizance.
Also, I'm going to introduce you to one of my favorite terms ever: No
Value Added (NVA). You know the type of people that add absolutely NO
positive contributions to work (or life, sometimes). Use this term
sparingly so that it retains its power. i.e., I know of only 2
true-blue NVAs. One day maybe I'll share the story of monkey-thumb.
::shudder::
Peace out, girl scouts. Tweet
Monday, April 26, 2010
Day 15: Marlboro Bea and The Dikes
Catchy title, right?
A story of coincidence. Years ago when I was living in Cedar Falls and going to UNI, I lived in the downtown district which contained a lot of college-style bars (as in, skanky chicks with tramp stamps hanging above their thong lines and dudes that put on their freshman 75 but still think they're in football shape and always wear backwards baseball caps). The lone exception to the college-style cluster of bars was a dive shit-hole called the Blue Cat. This was the type of bar that hearkened back to my hillbilly roots: where you can walk in and see real, hardcore drunks just having a hap-hap-happy time during their 25cent draft happy hours, hear hank Williams on the jukebox, and meet some real "characters." The character with the most character was a woman (I think) named Bea. Aged, travel-worn, crude, and sporting a mullet of epic proportions, she was loud and obnoxious in her flannel overalls and entertained a wary group of young musicians from UNI for an entire evening. She had recently bought a new cat, so her catch phrase all night was "Who wants to see my black pussy!" Yeah, classy. (and of course I did- it was beautiful). So, years later, I happen to mention the name to some old farmer guy buddies of my dad who live in McCausland- hours away- and when I tell the story of "Bea," they all jump up and tell me about how they know her. Yup, apparently she's famous! I marveled at the coincidence.
Which brings me to this past weekend. After a long, successful night of cool concerts (and cleavages) I'm about to go to bed. Eager for my last Friday-smokeday cigarette, I eagerly flip open my box of Marlboro reds. Out! Zip, zero, nada: apparently my last cigarette is hiding out with Sadam's WMDs in a desert bunker somewhere. Bummed, I turn to go inside. But, I hear a voice say "you need a smoke?" And I turn to see someone proffering (great word, btw: you can use it if you want) a box of Marlboro reds. I look up, and guess who it is? Yup. There she (it) is, Bea, years later and looking exactly the same. In fact, probably wearing the same clothes. I suppose it's rude to hail her as your cigarette savior on one hand while denouncing every conceivable trait she has on the other, but such is the contradictory nature of life. Regardless, it's this kind of ultra-coincidental shit that makes me believe in Nessy. Cool, right?
Also this weekend I want to throw a shout-out to the drunken nest of lesbians that I met and hung out with on Saturday. Okay, I suppose they couldn't really be lesbians with the amount of penis-themed paraphernalia they had bought for the party. Penis-shaped wine charms, penis-shaped candy, penis-shaped bowls for the candy; it was all there. Apparently there is an entire store full of penisery out there that I didn't even know existed. Now you tell me. I survived the night, so for that I'm thankful. And, I learned about lots of reasons why never to get married. Oh, and did you know that they make New Kids On The Block trading cards? And you thought YOUR job sucked.
Today I got to thinking that I haven't shared the secret of why women and men are different. Got any guesses? It's not a trick question: I really have the (an) answer. I'm going to hold onto it until Friday, so if you have what you think is the right answer feel free to shout it out, otherwise just anticipate.
Monday... blech. Tweet
A story of coincidence. Years ago when I was living in Cedar Falls and going to UNI, I lived in the downtown district which contained a lot of college-style bars (as in, skanky chicks with tramp stamps hanging above their thong lines and dudes that put on their freshman 75 but still think they're in football shape and always wear backwards baseball caps). The lone exception to the college-style cluster of bars was a dive shit-hole called the Blue Cat. This was the type of bar that hearkened back to my hillbilly roots: where you can walk in and see real, hardcore drunks just having a hap-hap-happy time during their 25cent draft happy hours, hear hank Williams on the jukebox, and meet some real "characters." The character with the most character was a woman (I think) named Bea. Aged, travel-worn, crude, and sporting a mullet of epic proportions, she was loud and obnoxious in her flannel overalls and entertained a wary group of young musicians from UNI for an entire evening. She had recently bought a new cat, so her catch phrase all night was "Who wants to see my black pussy!" Yeah, classy. (and of course I did- it was beautiful). So, years later, I happen to mention the name to some old farmer guy buddies of my dad who live in McCausland- hours away- and when I tell the story of "Bea," they all jump up and tell me about how they know her. Yup, apparently she's famous! I marveled at the coincidence.
Which brings me to this past weekend. After a long, successful night of cool concerts (and cleavages) I'm about to go to bed. Eager for my last Friday-smokeday cigarette, I eagerly flip open my box of Marlboro reds. Out! Zip, zero, nada: apparently my last cigarette is hiding out with Sadam's WMDs in a desert bunker somewhere. Bummed, I turn to go inside. But, I hear a voice say "you need a smoke?" And I turn to see someone proffering (great word, btw: you can use it if you want) a box of Marlboro reds. I look up, and guess who it is? Yup. There she (it) is, Bea, years later and looking exactly the same. In fact, probably wearing the same clothes. I suppose it's rude to hail her as your cigarette savior on one hand while denouncing every conceivable trait she has on the other, but such is the contradictory nature of life. Regardless, it's this kind of ultra-coincidental shit that makes me believe in Nessy. Cool, right?
Also this weekend I want to throw a shout-out to the drunken nest of lesbians that I met and hung out with on Saturday. Okay, I suppose they couldn't really be lesbians with the amount of penis-themed paraphernalia they had bought for the party. Penis-shaped wine charms, penis-shaped candy, penis-shaped bowls for the candy; it was all there. Apparently there is an entire store full of penisery out there that I didn't even know existed. Now you tell me. I survived the night, so for that I'm thankful. And, I learned about lots of reasons why never to get married. Oh, and did you know that they make New Kids On The Block trading cards? And you thought YOUR job sucked.
Today I got to thinking that I haven't shared the secret of why women and men are different. Got any guesses? It's not a trick question: I really have the (an) answer. I'm going to hold onto it until Friday, so if you have what you think is the right answer feel free to shout it out, otherwise just anticipate.
Monday... blech. Tweet
Friday, April 23, 2010
Day 14: The Stalker
After some careful consideration I've decided to delay any "conclusion"
to the Juanita and Bert saga. In the last week alone Bert has left at
least 1 sobbing voice mail, several emails, and a magnum opus style,
hand-scrawled, four page diatribe of crybabyosity. So, it would seem
that there is no sign of anything slowing down and I feel that even more
shenanigans are en route. I promise that as any juicy whinery comes in
I will update you with new installments. Maybe even one day, some
closure. Alas, not today.
What I can bring you today is the story of a stalker. The harmless kind
(for now), but nevertheless: a stalker.
I'm anxious to display some of his 'work', so let me bring you up to
speed, Caleb style.
Chapter one: Girl goes out with girlfriends, strange man joins group,
awkward conversation ensues, girls leave quickly, thinking "eww."
Chapter two: Girl, several days later, finds letter in her mailbox. Not
mailed. As in, physically dropped off. As in, he found out her address
and drove there. I know, right? In the envelope is one typed email and
one handwritten email. Mostly of the "I admire you" and "Keep your chin
up" variety. Lame, but not overtly threatening. Possibly autistic?
Chapter three: Research. Nope, not autistic... hit by a milk truck!
Yup, hit by a milk truck, not quite right in the head. Oh, and married.
With five kids.
Chapter four: Follow up emails.
Okay then, that brings us to the following:
[Mildred],
This is the [crazy guy] that ran into you & [friend] in Rock Island a
couple months ago, the weekend before you started your new position.
I am curious to know how the new job is going, and more.
I am sincerely interested in how things are going for you, and am
willing to help in any way.
You are special.
Give a call - [phone number].
[crazy guy]
Ha!! "You are special"?! WTF? Does he mean she needs a helmet and
he'll pick her up in his new short bus? Special? It's like
unsuccessful motivational speaker turns unsuccessful stalker. Mix in some
scattered milk cartons and you have a recipe for success. Sheesh.
So, no response from "Mildred" and you think he'd go away, right? Um..
I said "stalker" not "giver-upper." Gotta give the guy some credit.
Here's the latest:
[Mildred],
It's not Backstreet. It's not New Kids. But my version is appearing
tonight at the ------- in Bettendorf.
David Cassidy was the heart throb of the 70's. Now he is 60. I bet Joey
McIntyre looks as good in 30 years, and I bet if he comes to town,
you'll plunk down the equivalent of 40 current dollars in 2040 to see
him, too.
I am going to have fun tonight. It is last minute. Would you like to
join me?
This could be our theme song?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M1GHYFYqeJw&NR=1
[crazy guy from the place where I stalked you (not even the right place,
fyi)]
Theme song!! Theme song!! What the hell! And, if you were wondering,
the song is "come on get happy" by the Partridge Family. You just can't
make this shit up!! "Hey, I'm crazy guy, and you've ignored me, but do
you want to go see an old guy perform our new love song tonight?" Are
people fucking retarded!? It's guys like this that make me sympathize
with women, and also understand true lesbianism. If I had to worry about
dudes who've been hit by dairy trucks and had their brains put in
backwards hounding me after 5 minutes of meeting me, I might just be a
bitch for awhile too. I think I understand, ladies. Touche.
Smoking Friday! Tweet
to the Juanita and Bert saga. In the last week alone Bert has left at
least 1 sobbing voice mail, several emails, and a magnum opus style,
hand-scrawled, four page diatribe of crybabyosity. So, it would seem
that there is no sign of anything slowing down and I feel that even more
shenanigans are en route. I promise that as any juicy whinery comes in
I will update you with new installments. Maybe even one day, some
closure. Alas, not today.
What I can bring you today is the story of a stalker. The harmless kind
(for now), but nevertheless: a stalker.
I'm anxious to display some of his 'work', so let me bring you up to
speed, Caleb style.
Chapter one: Girl goes out with girlfriends, strange man joins group,
awkward conversation ensues, girls leave quickly, thinking "eww."
Chapter two: Girl, several days later, finds letter in her mailbox. Not
mailed. As in, physically dropped off. As in, he found out her address
and drove there. I know, right? In the envelope is one typed email and
one handwritten email. Mostly of the "I admire you" and "Keep your chin
up" variety. Lame, but not overtly threatening. Possibly autistic?
Chapter three: Research. Nope, not autistic... hit by a milk truck!
Yup, hit by a milk truck, not quite right in the head. Oh, and married.
With five kids.
Chapter four: Follow up emails.
Okay then, that brings us to the following:
[Mildred],
This is the [crazy guy] that ran into you & [friend] in Rock Island a
couple months ago, the weekend before you started your new position.
I am curious to know how the new job is going, and more.
I am sincerely interested in how things are going for you, and am
willing to help in any way.
You are special.
Give a call - [phone number].
[crazy guy]
Ha!! "You are special"?! WTF? Does he mean she needs a helmet and
he'll pick her up in his new short bus? Special? It's like
unsuccessful motivational speaker turns unsuccessful stalker. Mix in some
scattered milk cartons and you have a recipe for success. Sheesh.
So, no response from "Mildred" and you think he'd go away, right? Um..
I said "stalker" not "giver-upper." Gotta give the guy some credit.
Here's the latest:
[Mildred],
It's not Backstreet. It's not New Kids. But my version is appearing
tonight at the ------- in Bettendorf.
David Cassidy was the heart throb of the 70's. Now he is 60. I bet Joey
McIntyre looks as good in 30 years, and I bet if he comes to town,
you'll plunk down the equivalent of 40 current dollars in 2040 to see
him, too.
I am going to have fun tonight. It is last minute. Would you like to
join me?
This could be our theme song?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M1GHYFYqeJw&NR=1
[crazy guy from the place where I stalked you (not even the right place,
fyi)]
Theme song!! Theme song!! What the hell! And, if you were wondering,
the song is "come on get happy" by the Partridge Family. You just can't
make this shit up!! "Hey, I'm crazy guy, and you've ignored me, but do
you want to go see an old guy perform our new love song tonight?" Are
people fucking retarded!? It's guys like this that make me sympathize
with women, and also understand true lesbianism. If I had to worry about
dudes who've been hit by dairy trucks and had their brains put in
backwards hounding me after 5 minutes of meeting me, I might just be a
bitch for awhile too. I think I understand, ladies. Touche.
Smoking Friday! Tweet
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Day 13: Juanita and Bert (Part Deux)
Where were we? Oh yes, Bert was about to man up and move on with his
life and- wait. What? He didn't? He did what? Hold on folks- we're
getting a report that, instead of man-sizing his breakfast sandwich and
sprouting an impressive mane of chest hair, Bert has instead decided to
follow up on the silence left by Juanita with another text. Lots of
another texts, as a matter of fact. Here's one:
I know you haven't responded and I said I'd leave you alone, but I'm
having a hard time w this. if you're around, and could stand talking w
me, could you call me. Please?
Um... no? How about no. Have you tried no? Can I interest you in some
NO! How many messages like this can a guy send out with absolutely no
response at all? What's the word for that one thing?... oh yeah: a
hint. Do some people just have their hint-detecting brain parts
lobotomized by their mommies at a young age? What's going on here?
Sadly, these texts and emails continue, unabated, for weeks. Have you
ever seen "The Cable Guy" where Matthew Broderick gets home and there are like 50 messages on his machine?
"Hi, it's me... gimme a call!"
"Me again. Just seeing if you called."
"Hey there- did you just call? I was in the shower. Anyway: call me!"
"What's up? Are you home? Why haven't you called me."
"Just blowdrying my hair, wanted to see if you'd called..."
"Hey Stephen, it's your mother... just kidding! It's me. Call me!"
Yikes. Apparently these people aren't just in movies; check out
this follow up text one day:
I send you a message this morning. Not sure if you got it or not. Not
sure if you care. But I'm dying today and I want to talk to you. If
the answer is no, just tell me to fuck off and I'll be on my way. I'll
understand.
(to the tune of hi-ho, hi-ho from snow white) Fuck off, fuck off, I
told you to fuck off. Fuck off fuck off fuck off fuck off fuck offff
fuck off!!!
Try that little ditty on for size. And now, he's not just SAD anymore
ladies and gentlemen, he's.... (drumroll).... dying!! Ohmygod. Sigh.
Will this ever stop? Yo- I don't know. Turn off the lights, and I'll
glow. To the extreme I rock a mic like a vandal, ... sorry. Got
sidetracked. That damn Vanilla sure knows how to spit some mad rhymes.
Anyway, so now what? As promised, I will bring you more of this
insane-train tomorrow; but I warn you that there may be no conclusion to
this. No moral, no life lesson, no happy ending. In fact, things might
just get worse. Regardless, it's still hilarious to everyone besides
Juanita and Bert, right? And that's what counts.
See you tomorrow! Smoking Friday!
PS If any ladies read this and have some comments or stories of their own whiny exes, I'd love to hear 'em! Tweet
life and- wait. What? He didn't? He did what? Hold on folks- we're
getting a report that, instead of man-sizing his breakfast sandwich and
sprouting an impressive mane of chest hair, Bert has instead decided to
follow up on the silence left by Juanita with another text. Lots of
another texts, as a matter of fact. Here's one:
I know you haven't responded and I said I'd leave you alone, but I'm
having a hard time w this. if you're around, and could stand talking w
me, could you call me. Please?
Um... no? How about no. Have you tried no? Can I interest you in some
NO! How many messages like this can a guy send out with absolutely no
response at all? What's the word for that one thing?... oh yeah: a
hint. Do some people just have their hint-detecting brain parts
lobotomized by their mommies at a young age? What's going on here?
Sadly, these texts and emails continue, unabated, for weeks. Have you
ever seen "The Cable Guy" where Matthew Broderick gets home and there are like 50 messages on his machine?
"Hi, it's me... gimme a call!"
"Me again. Just seeing if you called."
"Hey there- did you just call? I was in the shower. Anyway: call me!"
"What's up? Are you home? Why haven't you called me."
"Just blowdrying my hair, wanted to see if you'd called..."
"Hey Stephen, it's your mother... just kidding! It's me. Call me!"
Yikes. Apparently these people aren't just in movies; check out
this follow up text one day:
I send you a message this morning. Not sure if you got it or not. Not
sure if you care. But I'm dying today and I want to talk to you. If
the answer is no, just tell me to fuck off and I'll be on my way. I'll
understand.
(to the tune of hi-ho, hi-ho from snow white) Fuck off, fuck off, I
told you to fuck off. Fuck off fuck off fuck off fuck off fuck offff
fuck off!!!
Try that little ditty on for size. And now, he's not just SAD anymore
ladies and gentlemen, he's.... (drumroll).... dying!! Ohmygod. Sigh.
Will this ever stop? Yo- I don't know. Turn off the lights, and I'll
glow. To the extreme I rock a mic like a vandal, ... sorry. Got
sidetracked. That damn Vanilla sure knows how to spit some mad rhymes.
Anyway, so now what? As promised, I will bring you more of this
insane-train tomorrow; but I warn you that there may be no conclusion to
this. No moral, no life lesson, no happy ending. In fact, things might
just get worse. Regardless, it's still hilarious to everyone besides
Juanita and Bert, right? And that's what counts.
See you tomorrow! Smoking Friday!
PS If any ladies read this and have some comments or stories of their own whiny exes, I'd love to hear 'em! Tweet
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Day 12: Juanita and Bert
Gang,
As promised, today I bring you the saga of "Juanita and Bert" in all its
glory. Bring your tissues, ladies, cause Bert's pining for lost love is
going to make your cry like John Mayer just read you a haiku. Not.
Men: beware, and learn from young Bert's mistakes. It's never a good
idea to abandon all manhood (literally and figuratively) and throw
yourself to a woman's mercy (oxymoron). In that scenario man's overall
win-loss record is an astounding 27 trillion and 0. Zip.
"Expect no quarter, lads, for none shall be given." -Alfred Einstein
So Juanita and Bert breakup. Bert moves away, Juanita has the house and
the dog, things are relatively amicable, and then things go bad. What
happens? Bert leaves his testes on the bus and forgets to even call
lost and found. Long, crying conversations over the phone. Random
visits to "get something he left" from the house. Trips home to see his
"family" (read: make more mopey phone calls and cry). Juanita, on the
other hand, moves on. And by "moves on" I mean gets over the
relationship, begins to resent Bert's wimp-osity (he rates a 9.9 on the
standard wimp scale), and starts banging younger men. Typical, right?
Well, the emails/calls/texts/etc. get worse. Lots worse. If I can dig
up some of the original emails and whatnot I will, but for now let's
fast-forward and begin examining some of Bert's lame heart-spewings.
Juanita, months ago, stopped responding to any communications from Bert.
After she continues to receive a message or two per week, she finally
snaps and sends a message to Bert that, basically, should shrivel a
man's wiener all the way up- creating an "in-y" as the belly-button
folks would say- north until it pierces that massive blob of red-crybaby
he calls his heart. To paraphrase Juanita's message: "I hate you, I'm
banging other dudes, these other dudes sleep in your spot and my dog
loves them twice as much as he ever loved you. Bugger off." That should
have done it, right? Here is Bert's response:
Hey,
It's raining here, and I'm listening to it, and I'm thinking too much. I
just wanted to say hi and let you know I was thinking of you and I hope
everything is going great for you. I realize you won't respond to this,
or I'll just get another very angry text, but my goal isn't to provoke
that. I don't really have a goal, actually. I just really needed to say
hi, this morning. I had a long dream about you, and it made me sad, so
I'm writing this and it's probably a mistake to do so, but I'm doing it
anyway. And I really hope it doesn't hurt you to hear from me. If it
does, let me know and I'll disappear. So, I know it sounds stupid, but I
miss saying it and I wanted to wish you a good day of work, and a great
day in general. And a great life. And everything else.
-me
O.M.F.G, right?? First off, any message that starts with "Hey, it's
raining here..." is virtually guaranteed to drip lameness like the
crotch of a tranny with VD down on 2nd street. And, what? No mention
of the awful email he JUST GOT? Was he even listening? Hey ladies-
when a guy tells you how "sad" he is and how he's thinking about you in
the rain (probably while yerking off to some Enya) does it get you all
hot inside? I thought women liked MEN? Oh- and remember the key
phrase: "...and I'll disappear," for later and we'll see how that works out.
Interesting side-note: I counted the "me, I, mine, etc." references, the
"you, you're, etc." references, and the "us" references and compared them.
Final tally?
'Me'= 22
'You'= 7
'Us'= 0
As long as you're spewing out a vagina-drying sad-athon sure to fail in
your try-to-get-her-back attempts, you might as well throw in a healthy
dose of self-absorbed narcissism. I mean, what girl doesn't like a guy
that refers to himself 3 times more than you even when he's trying to win you back?!
So after Bert doesn't hear from Juanita again, he disappears like he
promised, right? Nope. Not Bert! His eternal optimism (luckily not
encumbered by any anchor to reality) leads him to send a follow-up email
after a healthy waiting period of what I imagine had to be at least 30
minutes.
"If at first you don't succeed, try repeatedly over and over
again until your pride and manliness are small enough as to be
undetectable with a black-hole powered electron super-microscope" -
Barbara Walters
Hey,
Just wanted to say that I received your message (or lack of...), loud
and clear. I couldn't go without at least *trying* to reach out to you
and fixing things. I miss you and wanted to see what I could do. Which
is apparently nothing. But still, I can say I tried. Just too little,
too late. I wish you the best, Juanita. I will forever miss laughing
with you. You won't hear from me again.
-me
Yup. And, FYI, "me" is Bert McWeaksauce. I waved my 'blame-wand' over
this email and it went into the red. Is Bert seriously starting to get
a little peeved that Juanita won't even try? Nope. I think "peeved"
would be too close of an emotion to "mad" which is borderline manly.
And we know it can't be that. Remember all that laughing together that
Bert and Juanita did? Yeah, me neither. Bert might have laughed as he
banged some skank from his high school days, and Juanita might have
laughed when she used a bunch of Bert's old gift cards to buy herself
presents, but laughing together? Not so much.
So, Bert has stated that he "got the message" and that "you won't hear
from me again." Will Bert stay true to his word? Has Juanita heard the last of old Bert? Will Bert get the hint and perhaps start the long trek back up Mount Manly? We'll find out tomorrow with the second installment of "Juanita and Bert." Stay tuned!
C Tweet
As promised, today I bring you the saga of "Juanita and Bert" in all its
glory. Bring your tissues, ladies, cause Bert's pining for lost love is
going to make your cry like John Mayer just read you a haiku. Not.
Men: beware, and learn from young Bert's mistakes. It's never a good
idea to abandon all manhood (literally and figuratively) and throw
yourself to a woman's mercy (oxymoron). In that scenario man's overall
win-loss record is an astounding 27 trillion and 0. Zip.
"Expect no quarter, lads, for none shall be given." -Alfred Einstein
So Juanita and Bert breakup. Bert moves away, Juanita has the house and
the dog, things are relatively amicable, and then things go bad. What
happens? Bert leaves his testes on the bus and forgets to even call
lost and found. Long, crying conversations over the phone. Random
visits to "get something he left" from the house. Trips home to see his
"family" (read: make more mopey phone calls and cry). Juanita, on the
other hand, moves on. And by "moves on" I mean gets over the
relationship, begins to resent Bert's wimp-osity (he rates a 9.9 on the
standard wimp scale), and starts banging younger men. Typical, right?
Well, the emails/calls/texts/etc. get worse. Lots worse. If I can dig
up some of the original emails and whatnot I will, but for now let's
fast-forward and begin examining some of Bert's lame heart-spewings.
Juanita, months ago, stopped responding to any communications from Bert.
After she continues to receive a message or two per week, she finally
snaps and sends a message to Bert that, basically, should shrivel a
man's wiener all the way up- creating an "in-y" as the belly-button
folks would say- north until it pierces that massive blob of red-crybaby
he calls his heart. To paraphrase Juanita's message: "I hate you, I'm
banging other dudes, these other dudes sleep in your spot and my dog
loves them twice as much as he ever loved you. Bugger off." That should
have done it, right? Here is Bert's response:
Hey,
It's raining here, and I'm listening to it, and I'm thinking too much. I
just wanted to say hi and let you know I was thinking of you and I hope
everything is going great for you. I realize you won't respond to this,
or I'll just get another very angry text, but my goal isn't to provoke
that. I don't really have a goal, actually. I just really needed to say
hi, this morning. I had a long dream about you, and it made me sad, so
I'm writing this and it's probably a mistake to do so, but I'm doing it
anyway. And I really hope it doesn't hurt you to hear from me. If it
does, let me know and I'll disappear. So, I know it sounds stupid, but I
miss saying it and I wanted to wish you a good day of work, and a great
day in general. And a great life. And everything else.
-me
O.M.F.G, right?? First off, any message that starts with "Hey, it's
raining here..." is virtually guaranteed to drip lameness like the
crotch of a tranny with VD down on 2nd street. And, what? No mention
of the awful email he JUST GOT? Was he even listening? Hey ladies-
when a guy tells you how "sad" he is and how he's thinking about you in
the rain (probably while yerking off to some Enya) does it get you all
hot inside? I thought women liked MEN? Oh- and remember the key
phrase: "...and I'll disappear," for later and we'll see how that works out.
Interesting side-note: I counted the "me, I, mine, etc." references, the
"you, you're, etc." references, and the "us" references and compared them.
Final tally?
'Me'= 22
'You'= 7
'Us'= 0
As long as you're spewing out a vagina-drying sad-athon sure to fail in
your try-to-get-her-back attempts, you might as well throw in a healthy
dose of self-absorbed narcissism. I mean, what girl doesn't like a guy
that refers to himself 3 times more than you even when he's trying to win you back?!
So after Bert doesn't hear from Juanita again, he disappears like he
promised, right? Nope. Not Bert! His eternal optimism (luckily not
encumbered by any anchor to reality) leads him to send a follow-up email
after a healthy waiting period of what I imagine had to be at least 30
minutes.
"If at first you don't succeed, try repeatedly over and over
again until your pride and manliness are small enough as to be
undetectable with a black-hole powered electron super-microscope" -
Barbara Walters
Hey,
Just wanted to say that I received your message (or lack of...), loud
and clear. I couldn't go without at least *trying* to reach out to you
and fixing things. I miss you and wanted to see what I could do. Which
is apparently nothing. But still, I can say I tried. Just too little,
too late. I wish you the best, Juanita. I will forever miss laughing
with you. You won't hear from me again.
-me
Yup. And, FYI, "me" is Bert McWeaksauce. I waved my 'blame-wand' over
this email and it went into the red. Is Bert seriously starting to get
a little peeved that Juanita won't even try? Nope. I think "peeved"
would be too close of an emotion to "mad" which is borderline manly.
And we know it can't be that. Remember all that laughing together that
Bert and Juanita did? Yeah, me neither. Bert might have laughed as he
banged some skank from his high school days, and Juanita might have
laughed when she used a bunch of Bert's old gift cards to buy herself
presents, but laughing together? Not so much.
So, Bert has stated that he "got the message" and that "you won't hear
from me again." Will Bert stay true to his word? Has Juanita heard the last of old Bert? Will Bert get the hint and perhaps start the long trek back up Mount Manly? We'll find out tomorrow with the second installment of "Juanita and Bert." Stay tuned!
C Tweet
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Day 11: Midterm and Preview
Hey there, Constant Reader.
It's time to reflect a bit on the thought-cacophony that is this blog.
Truth is, I enjoy it! I look forward to myself (heh heh) and think this
whole thing is vaguely... cathartic. This is gross, but it's kind of
like when you have some uh... "big things" on your bathroom agenda;
you're reluctant to go take care of it, but afterwords you have a little
spring in your step. Good trade overall.
I've decided to bring you something special for the rest of this week.
I'm going to go all investigatory journalist on you and bring you some
real-world breakup shenanigans. There's a good one going on right now,
and while I will omit or change their real names, I will give you full
and juicy details on the real haps. Who doesn't enjoy reading about
some snivel-y ex who pours his heart out in some lame, sad, whiny, vomit
of feelings to someone who literally and utterly does not care?
Men think they are safe when they send these whine-filled letters and
emails out, but it turns out that you women have an evil, evil heart and
would knowingly tell me about and even send me these putrid lost-love
letters. Should I reveal to the world the lameness of a man who put his
testes in a vase of roses and said "here honey, I won't be needing these
anymore. And I hope you like the flowers." Or should I keep them
private? Should I show you some of the honest-to-goodness ball-lessness
and absolute depths of loser-tude that men will sink to in order to
reclaim a lost girl? Maybe I should hide all of this. Keep it private;
respect a man's losses.
Nah.
So, beginning tomorrow and going through Friday, I will be bringing you
the story of "Juanita" and "Bert" and the tragic (or awesome, depending
on perspective) ending of their relationship. In case you want a
preview, cinema-style, here ya go:
1. Juanita and Bert meet
2. They spend years together, crappy relationship ensues
3. Breakup!
4. Juanita says, "nay, Bert, our relationship is done because you suck
and cheated"
5. Bert says, "I'm a big whiny turd and everything's my fault and take
me back and I'm sad and I miss you and I'll do anything and I miss you
and I'm sad and I won't contact you anymore but then I'm going to
contact you and I'm sad and did I tell you that I'm sad?
Yeah, chapter 5 is the best part. I hate embarrassing a man like this,
but if I don't show the rest of you what NOT to do, then this tragic
event is in danger of repeating itself. And I can't live with that kind
of guilt.
See you tomorrow!
PS can we send a little love the Cubs way? Seriously- this is not a
good start. As Kyle says, "starting pitchers are striking out a
thousand hitters and saving babies" and it still doesn't matter. Sigh.
Go. Cubs. Go.
PSS Top overheard comment of the day: "I put it in my vag-thing." I don't even know. Tweet
It's time to reflect a bit on the thought-cacophony that is this blog.
Truth is, I enjoy it! I look forward to myself (heh heh) and think this
whole thing is vaguely... cathartic. This is gross, but it's kind of
like when you have some uh... "big things" on your bathroom agenda;
you're reluctant to go take care of it, but afterwords you have a little
spring in your step. Good trade overall.
I've decided to bring you something special for the rest of this week.
I'm going to go all investigatory journalist on you and bring you some
real-world breakup shenanigans. There's a good one going on right now,
and while I will omit or change their real names, I will give you full
and juicy details on the real haps. Who doesn't enjoy reading about
some snivel-y ex who pours his heart out in some lame, sad, whiny, vomit
of feelings to someone who literally and utterly does not care?
Men think they are safe when they send these whine-filled letters and
emails out, but it turns out that you women have an evil, evil heart and
would knowingly tell me about and even send me these putrid lost-love
letters. Should I reveal to the world the lameness of a man who put his
testes in a vase of roses and said "here honey, I won't be needing these
anymore. And I hope you like the flowers." Or should I keep them
private? Should I show you some of the honest-to-goodness ball-lessness
and absolute depths of loser-tude that men will sink to in order to
reclaim a lost girl? Maybe I should hide all of this. Keep it private;
respect a man's losses.
Nah.
So, beginning tomorrow and going through Friday, I will be bringing you
the story of "Juanita" and "Bert" and the tragic (or awesome, depending
on perspective) ending of their relationship. In case you want a
preview, cinema-style, here ya go:
1. Juanita and Bert meet
2. They spend years together, crappy relationship ensues
3. Breakup!
4. Juanita says, "nay, Bert, our relationship is done because you suck
and cheated"
5. Bert says, "I'm a big whiny turd and everything's my fault and take
me back and I'm sad and I miss you and I'll do anything and I miss you
and I'm sad and I won't contact you anymore but then I'm going to
contact you and I'm sad and did I tell you that I'm sad?
Yeah, chapter 5 is the best part. I hate embarrassing a man like this,
but if I don't show the rest of you what NOT to do, then this tragic
event is in danger of repeating itself. And I can't live with that kind
of guilt.
See you tomorrow!
PS can we send a little love the Cubs way? Seriously- this is not a
good start. As Kyle says, "starting pitchers are striking out a
thousand hitters and saving babies" and it still doesn't matter. Sigh.
Go. Cubs. Go.
PSS Top overheard comment of the day: "I put it in my vag-thing." I don't even know. Tweet
Monday, April 19, 2010
Day 10: On Happiness
On happiness:
I finished a book today called "Geography of Bliss" by Eric Weiner. It
was a good read, mostly by virtue of the author's wit rather than any
great revelations or secret paths to happiness. The sad surprise is
that there are no surprises in the world of happiness. Everything you
know, think, or even intuit about happiness is true and just as you
imagine it. Statistically, the only relief you will feel from the
doldrums of life will come when you are old enough to realize that there
are no surprises and you should just enjoy the little pleasures in your
life. They call this the U-shaped curve which describes how you are
either happy because you are too young and dumb to know any better, or
because you are so old that you no longer care.
I think the most depressing finding in the world of happiness research
was when they did a long-term study of people who had undergone either a
tremendously positive life event (like winning the lottery) or some
terribly negative life event (i.e. horrible car crash or getting
married) ((ok, jk on the married part)). While there was some initial
change (positive or negative) like you might expect, the researchers
were surprised when they followed up years later to see that overall
happiness levels had not changed from the original, pre-event levels.
What does this mean, ladies and gentlemen? Despair! Your current state
of misery is lifelong and unchanging. That new job you're aiming for,
that pile of money you expect any day now, that person for who your
loins quiver in red-hot anticipation: none of it will make a dang
difference in your overall life contentedness.
Give up and jump off a bridge? Not just yet. In all of the studies of
things that make people happier, they consistently found that they were
short lived and often contradictory. What no one has suggested however
(until me, right now), is that maybe what we should do is pile together
a string of short-term happiness boosters to get us by until old age.
Why didn't anyone think of this before? They lacked my sarcastic,
cynical, and overtly contradictory optimism. So here, in no particular
order, is a list of things that can provide short-term happiness boosts:
1. Alcohol (I guess there must be some order to this if I put this at
#1, right?)
2. Drugs (Moderation here. And, you can get the self-esteem boost of
strong willpower when you quit)
3. Affairs (Again, only until you are caught: then there is a terrible
negative happiness dive)
4. Monetary gains (Pick those winning numbers! Or rob a bank)
5. Medications (Most medications work temporarily, so just mix them up
on a 6 month rotation cycle)
6. Learning something new (Just read my blog and you should be fine.)
7. Helping people (Lame. I don't even know how to go about this, other
than letting people bum smokes)
8. Laughing (Watch funny videos every day. I recommend "Scottish Guy
Hates Iceland")
9. Moving (Move to a place that has opposite traits of where you live
now: i.e. Iowa to Florida, Arizona to Minneapolis, California
to Amish country, etc.)
10. Get laid (A lot)
That's probably a good start. Or a terrible start, depending on your
perspective. I also advocate eliminating Mondays and Tuesdays entirely.
We'll just make Wednesday extra long and call it the "big hump day."
The scariest finding, for me, was that too much thinking is detrimental
to happiness. So, fellow over-thinker, I guess we're out of luck.
Happy Monday!
PS I still haven't shaved yet, as every single day someone has mentioned
me not-shaving. Going on a month now.
Tweet
I finished a book today called "Geography of Bliss" by Eric Weiner. It
was a good read, mostly by virtue of the author's wit rather than any
great revelations or secret paths to happiness. The sad surprise is
that there are no surprises in the world of happiness. Everything you
know, think, or even intuit about happiness is true and just as you
imagine it. Statistically, the only relief you will feel from the
doldrums of life will come when you are old enough to realize that there
are no surprises and you should just enjoy the little pleasures in your
life. They call this the U-shaped curve which describes how you are
either happy because you are too young and dumb to know any better, or
because you are so old that you no longer care.
I think the most depressing finding in the world of happiness research
was when they did a long-term study of people who had undergone either a
tremendously positive life event (like winning the lottery) or some
terribly negative life event (i.e. horrible car crash or getting
married) ((ok, jk on the married part)). While there was some initial
change (positive or negative) like you might expect, the researchers
were surprised when they followed up years later to see that overall
happiness levels had not changed from the original, pre-event levels.
What does this mean, ladies and gentlemen? Despair! Your current state
of misery is lifelong and unchanging. That new job you're aiming for,
that pile of money you expect any day now, that person for who your
loins quiver in red-hot anticipation: none of it will make a dang
difference in your overall life contentedness.
Give up and jump off a bridge? Not just yet. In all of the studies of
things that make people happier, they consistently found that they were
short lived and often contradictory. What no one has suggested however
(until me, right now), is that maybe what we should do is pile together
a string of short-term happiness boosters to get us by until old age.
Why didn't anyone think of this before? They lacked my sarcastic,
cynical, and overtly contradictory optimism. So here, in no particular
order, is a list of things that can provide short-term happiness boosts:
1. Alcohol (I guess there must be some order to this if I put this at
#1, right?)
2. Drugs (Moderation here. And, you can get the self-esteem boost of
strong willpower when you quit)
3. Affairs (Again, only until you are caught: then there is a terrible
negative happiness dive)
4. Monetary gains (Pick those winning numbers! Or rob a bank)
5. Medications (Most medications work temporarily, so just mix them up
on a 6 month rotation cycle)
6. Learning something new (Just read my blog and you should be fine.)
7. Helping people (Lame. I don't even know how to go about this, other
than letting people bum smokes)
8. Laughing (Watch funny videos every day. I recommend "Scottish Guy
Hates Iceland")
9. Moving (Move to a place that has opposite traits of where you live
now: i.e. Iowa to Florida, Arizona to Minneapolis, California
to Amish country, etc.)
10. Get laid (A lot)
That's probably a good start. Or a terrible start, depending on your
perspective. I also advocate eliminating Mondays and Tuesdays entirely.
We'll just make Wednesday extra long and call it the "big hump day."
The scariest finding, for me, was that too much thinking is detrimental
to happiness. So, fellow over-thinker, I guess we're out of luck.
Happy Monday!
PS I still haven't shaved yet, as every single day someone has mentioned
me not-shaving. Going on a month now.
Tweet
Friday, April 16, 2010
Day 9: Breakups, Peculiarities, and Would-You-Rathers
Today: breakups, peculiarities, and would-you-rathers. Bring it.
What to do when a she-devil stomps on your bro's heart? Flaming bags of
poo on her doorstep? A series of encouraging man-talks to console your
friend? Hang out and make beef jerky and poop with the doors open?
Well, I don't think there is a specific method of handling situations
like this, but there are probably some constructive actions one could
take to mitigate the damage. I don't know any, so mostly I think it's
best just to get your friend drunk. Hammered style. I mean who hasn't
been through a painful breakup and needed to down a bottle of
goldschlager, puke, and bemoan how craptastic the opposite sex is?
Ever seen that drunk girl at a bar with a posse of girlfriends that
rival the defensive power of the Green bay Packers defensive line? "You
know what? You know what? Men, suck. No-no. You don't know. They
suck. Like, Todd doesn't even know what he's going to miss out on. I'm
totally gonna do anal now to piss him off." Cue: hiccups, tears, and
hugs. Oh- and stumbling.
Or that dude that's pounding beers and shots like a pro and acting as if
everything is totally fine? Where his buddy cautiously adds "yeah dude;
she's a bitch." And he says "yeah, I know. I don't even care. Haley
was a whore all along. I was totally just trying to get in her
backdoor. Whatever. There's this chick in my English class I was going
to bang anyway. Whatever. Shots! Let's do shots. And play some
fuckin' darts. Bitches."
Ahh, love.
Note: there is a guy at my work who stares straight at the wall and hums
when he's at the urinal. Normal?
So, ironically, after my expose on government workers yesterday I went
to a party that a bunch of government people were at and... scary.
Literally, 75% or better fit my description pretty closely. I didn't
know the market for short sleeved button shirts was so big.
Okay... would you rather:
Get eaten by a bear or a lion?
Have expert hacking skills or be able to fly a plane?
Be able to yell really loudly or be able to jump twice as high as you
can now?
Eat only hamburgers every day for 6 months or eat only broccoli for 1
month?
Have a leaky nose and a migraine or a leaky butt and white pants?
Ok, that was gross.
Happy Smoking Friday!
Caleb "Danger" Shreves Tweet
What to do when a she-devil stomps on your bro's heart? Flaming bags of
poo on her doorstep? A series of encouraging man-talks to console your
friend? Hang out and make beef jerky and poop with the doors open?
Well, I don't think there is a specific method of handling situations
like this, but there are probably some constructive actions one could
take to mitigate the damage. I don't know any, so mostly I think it's
best just to get your friend drunk. Hammered style. I mean who hasn't
been through a painful breakup and needed to down a bottle of
goldschlager, puke, and bemoan how craptastic the opposite sex is?
Ever seen that drunk girl at a bar with a posse of girlfriends that
rival the defensive power of the Green bay Packers defensive line? "You
know what? You know what? Men, suck. No-no. You don't know. They
suck. Like, Todd doesn't even know what he's going to miss out on. I'm
totally gonna do anal now to piss him off." Cue: hiccups, tears, and
hugs. Oh- and stumbling.
Or that dude that's pounding beers and shots like a pro and acting as if
everything is totally fine? Where his buddy cautiously adds "yeah dude;
she's a bitch." And he says "yeah, I know. I don't even care. Haley
was a whore all along. I was totally just trying to get in her
backdoor. Whatever. There's this chick in my English class I was going
to bang anyway. Whatever. Shots! Let's do shots. And play some
fuckin' darts. Bitches."
Ahh, love.
Note: there is a guy at my work who stares straight at the wall and hums
when he's at the urinal. Normal?
So, ironically, after my expose on government workers yesterday I went
to a party that a bunch of government people were at and... scary.
Literally, 75% or better fit my description pretty closely. I didn't
know the market for short sleeved button shirts was so big.
Okay... would you rather:
Get eaten by a bear or a lion?
Have expert hacking skills or be able to fly a plane?
Be able to yell really loudly or be able to jump twice as high as you
can now?
Eat only hamburgers every day for 6 months or eat only broccoli for 1
month?
Have a leaky nose and a migraine or a leaky butt and white pants?
Ok, that was gross.
Happy Smoking Friday!
Caleb "Danger" Shreves Tweet
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Day 8: Questions of the Day
Perhaps it's just the persistent nasal congestion I've had for three days now, but I'm in a markedly negative mood. I don't buy into the "be positive" agenda and think that some downery is good for business. So, I will be proposing some questions that have come up recently. Feel free to add your own.
1. What is up with this frickin' nose business when you get a cold? First your nose runs all the time, then it completely backs up and causes you to choke yourself awake at 3AM or die. And no, that's not melodramatic; if your nose is totally plugged and your lips happen to close while you're sleeping, you then have no air and will die. Luckily, your body will choke you awake and make sure you breath. If it didn't, then I wouldn't be here typing this now; I'd be surrounded by 72 Virginians!
2. Why can't people spell/type/write/? I've seen emails- from really high-up people in the government- with writing so bad that I can't even make out what the person is trying to say. Literally unintelligible. As if you spilled coffee on your keyboard and only 6 letters still worked (and you sold your space bar on Ebay). And I've even seen people with doctorates- doctorates!- who don't know the difference between "no" and "know" or "to, too, and two." Omg. I'm not trying to be the grammar police, but let's have a little pride here, people. And what professors are on these doctorate review boards that say "sure, you can't write basic sentences, but yeah- we'll give you a doctorate."
3. Wasps. Why do we still put up with wasps? They are no one's friend. They have no purpose. And don't give me that "don't bother them and they won't bother you" bullshit; ask Poland how that worked out with the Nazis.
4. Who still opens actual letters? It's 2010! Does the Department of Education really expect me to open a LETTER to see that I need to re-enter my account information? Shah! As if!
5. When did stalking get such a bad rap? So you know intimate details obtained through dubious methods about a stranger's life; I thought women liked the chase! Too much attention, too little attention- make up your mind ladies!
6. It's time to add some more letters to our alphabet.
7. Why are automated customer service hot lines deliberately programmed to be annoying? "Did you say... yes?" "Yes!" "No?" "No! Er, wait, yes! Damnit!"
8. Why is Albert Pujols SO good? I would trade Derrick Lee to the Cardinals, not in return for Pujols, but just for them to sit him on the bench. He is absolutely ridiculous. He is the Anderson Silva of baseball. The Peter North of home runs.
Hopefully we'll be back on a positive note tomorrow, but if not I'm going to get myself riled up over something and go on a REAL rant.
"Don't touch it!!" -- Dragon, to Nighthawk Tweet
1. What is up with this frickin' nose business when you get a cold? First your nose runs all the time, then it completely backs up and causes you to choke yourself awake at 3AM or die. And no, that's not melodramatic; if your nose is totally plugged and your lips happen to close while you're sleeping, you then have no air and will die. Luckily, your body will choke you awake and make sure you breath. If it didn't, then I wouldn't be here typing this now; I'd be surrounded by 72 Virginians!
2. Why can't people spell/type/write/? I've seen emails- from really high-up people in the government- with writing so bad that I can't even make out what the person is trying to say. Literally unintelligible. As if you spilled coffee on your keyboard and only 6 letters still worked (and you sold your space bar on Ebay). And I've even seen people with doctorates- doctorates!- who don't know the difference between "no" and "know" or "to, too, and two." Omg. I'm not trying to be the grammar police, but let's have a little pride here, people. And what professors are on these doctorate review boards that say "sure, you can't write basic sentences, but yeah- we'll give you a doctorate."
3. Wasps. Why do we still put up with wasps? They are no one's friend. They have no purpose. And don't give me that "don't bother them and they won't bother you" bullshit; ask Poland how that worked out with the Nazis.
4. Who still opens actual letters? It's 2010! Does the Department of Education really expect me to open a LETTER to see that I need to re-enter my account information? Shah! As if!
5. When did stalking get such a bad rap? So you know intimate details obtained through dubious methods about a stranger's life; I thought women liked the chase! Too much attention, too little attention- make up your mind ladies!
6. It's time to add some more letters to our alphabet.
7. Why are automated customer service hot lines deliberately programmed to be annoying? "Did you say... yes?" "Yes!" "No?" "No! Er, wait, yes! Damnit!"
8. Why is Albert Pujols SO good? I would trade Derrick Lee to the Cardinals, not in return for Pujols, but just for them to sit him on the bench. He is absolutely ridiculous. He is the Anderson Silva of baseball. The Peter North of home runs.
Hopefully we'll be back on a positive note tomorrow, but if not I'm going to get myself riled up over something and go on a REAL rant.
"Don't touch it!!" -- Dragon, to Nighthawk Tweet
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Day 7: How To Spot a Government Employee
Hey there,
As promised, today I will provide you with a short guide to recognizing
Government employees. Other than the standard "they're the ones not
doing anything" tell, I will guide you in some more, subtler, methods of
recognition. Where appropriate I will try and make special reference to
gender differences, though I would add that, in general, if you have
someone whose gender is debatable you may already have a government
employee on your hands. (It's Pat!)
Remember, not all Government folks are like this, but nearly everyone
who is like this is a Government employee. And, very rarely, you
might even find a "hottie" that is a Government employee. Odds of this
person being married? 93%.
A Government Employee:
1. What they're wearing.
With men, be on the lookout for tucked in short-sleeved button shirts, brown
nondescript shoes, maybe some goofy nylon socks, pants that aren't long
enough, pants that are several sizes too small and only fit around the
upper thigh (usually held on with a braided belt), glasses (too cheap
for contacts), and a badge on a necklace that is probably tucked into
their upper pocket. Another, slightly higher-class, variety you may
encounter would include cheap slacks (Penny's) and some sort of button
short with long sleeves tucked in. This person will definitely seem
more officious. In rare instances you might even see full suits (from a bygone era) or derby hats from the 1950's.
With Women, look for matching color "outfits" that are amorphous
enough to hide a variety of unsightly body shapes. Be on the lookout
for excessive jewelry, perfume, and makeup. Animal prints are common.
Expect to see a lot of capri-style, tight dress pants and a shirt with a
matching jacket. In extreme cases you might even see moo-moos and other
shower curtain like garb. Sandals are worn liberally, with no concern
for the actual physical appearance of the foot. Sometimes, bigger ladies
will wear exceptionally high heels, causing a "centaur" like sound to be
produced when strolling the halls.
2. Personal hygiene:
Both: lacking (severely). Expect toes that are gnarled, untrimmed
nails, and various illnesses and diseases that are untreated (cheap) and
not left at home sick. These people are notoriously stingy with their
leave, even though they receive more of it than even most Europeans.
Showers are infrequent and deodorant is optional.
3. Distinguishing personal features.
Men: military style buzz cuts are common. Not that they are
ex-military, this is just a cheap haircut to get. Also, thick "state
trooper" mustaches are fairly common. Obesity is the norm.
Women: Big girls in leopard print. Hairdos from generations ago (the
so called "stuck-in-time" effect). Obesity is the norm.
4. What they're driving.
Both: here you want to look for economical and value-driven choices.
You could probably pair the consumer reviews (emphasis on safety and
holding value) of a decade ago to find the cars that they drive now.
Men are likely to drive motorcycles, trying to preserve something of
their youth and masculinity. Corollas, Escorts, Mini-vans, and
second-tier SUVs are common.
5. What they're doing.
Both: not much. Gossiping, smoking, and making trips to the vending
machines are some of the more common activities. Also, they are most
likely going to be found at either a luncheon, a chili (or equivalent)
cook-off, some sort of bake-sale fundraiser, or a picnic. Expect to see
very little work done, but in fairness very little work is out there to
be done.
Well, that should be a good start for you. If you see someone
questionable and these tips haven't helped you make your decision,
clamor loudly for some more signs of a Government employee and I'll
happily oblige. There's really no end to the uniqueness of Uncle Sam's
workers.
* I wanted to add a disclaimer that there are, in fact, lots and lots of
Government employees who do not fit any of these stereotypes and are
intelligent, disciplined, hard-working folks. Sadly, they will most
likely be demoted and watch in horror as the worst of the bunch get
promoted to upper management.
Later! Tweet
As promised, today I will provide you with a short guide to recognizing
Government employees. Other than the standard "they're the ones not
doing anything" tell, I will guide you in some more, subtler, methods of
recognition. Where appropriate I will try and make special reference to
gender differences, though I would add that, in general, if you have
someone whose gender is debatable you may already have a government
employee on your hands. (It's Pat!)
Remember, not all Government folks are like this, but nearly everyone
who is like this is a Government employee. And, very rarely, you
might even find a "hottie" that is a Government employee. Odds of this
person being married? 93%.
A Government Employee:
1. What they're wearing.
With men, be on the lookout for tucked in short-sleeved button shirts, brown
nondescript shoes, maybe some goofy nylon socks, pants that aren't long
enough, pants that are several sizes too small and only fit around the
upper thigh (usually held on with a braided belt), glasses (too cheap
for contacts), and a badge on a necklace that is probably tucked into
their upper pocket. Another, slightly higher-class, variety you may
encounter would include cheap slacks (Penny's) and some sort of button
short with long sleeves tucked in. This person will definitely seem
more officious. In rare instances you might even see full suits (from a bygone era) or derby hats from the 1950's.
With Women, look for matching color "outfits" that are amorphous
enough to hide a variety of unsightly body shapes. Be on the lookout
for excessive jewelry, perfume, and makeup. Animal prints are common.
Expect to see a lot of capri-style, tight dress pants and a shirt with a
matching jacket. In extreme cases you might even see moo-moos and other
shower curtain like garb. Sandals are worn liberally, with no concern
for the actual physical appearance of the foot. Sometimes, bigger ladies
will wear exceptionally high heels, causing a "centaur" like sound to be
produced when strolling the halls.
2. Personal hygiene:
Both: lacking (severely). Expect toes that are gnarled, untrimmed
nails, and various illnesses and diseases that are untreated (cheap) and
not left at home sick. These people are notoriously stingy with their
leave, even though they receive more of it than even most Europeans.
Showers are infrequent and deodorant is optional.
3. Distinguishing personal features.
Men: military style buzz cuts are common. Not that they are
ex-military, this is just a cheap haircut to get. Also, thick "state
trooper" mustaches are fairly common. Obesity is the norm.
Women: Big girls in leopard print. Hairdos from generations ago (the
so called "stuck-in-time" effect). Obesity is the norm.
4. What they're driving.
Both: here you want to look for economical and value-driven choices.
You could probably pair the consumer reviews (emphasis on safety and
holding value) of a decade ago to find the cars that they drive now.
Men are likely to drive motorcycles, trying to preserve something of
their youth and masculinity. Corollas, Escorts, Mini-vans, and
second-tier SUVs are common.
5. What they're doing.
Both: not much. Gossiping, smoking, and making trips to the vending
machines are some of the more common activities. Also, they are most
likely going to be found at either a luncheon, a chili (or equivalent)
cook-off, some sort of bake-sale fundraiser, or a picnic. Expect to see
very little work done, but in fairness very little work is out there to
be done.
Well, that should be a good start for you. If you see someone
questionable and these tips haven't helped you make your decision,
clamor loudly for some more signs of a Government employee and I'll
happily oblige. There's really no end to the uniqueness of Uncle Sam's
workers.
* I wanted to add a disclaimer that there are, in fact, lots and lots of
Government employees who do not fit any of these stereotypes and are
intelligent, disciplined, hard-working folks. Sadly, they will most
likely be demoted and watch in horror as the worst of the bunch get
promoted to upper management.
Later! Tweet
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Day 6: The Week
Hi!
So, "enough with the suspense already!" you say? Change your life with
a fantastic new product?
In a minute.
First, today's headlines:
Ever heard of Williams Syndrome? It's a genetic defect that eliminates
social anxiety and causes "hyper-social" behavior. Apparently people
with this condition have no racial biases yet still manage to
discriminate on the basis of gender. Score one for men.
Stephen Seagal, mediocre movie BA, apparently keeps young Russian girls
as sex slaves. I know what you're thinking- and I would probably have a
few myself if I were rich too- but this is wrong and you shouldn't
condone it.
Conan O'Brien, that loveable cherub, is headed to TBS. He will be
joining oldie hits (Married With Children, Home Improvement, etc.), MLB,
and The Office to create perhaps the greatest young-guy-TV-hodgepodge
that any network has ever assembled. I might have to plug my cable cord
into my TV. (no, it's not already. Because the cord wasn't long enough
when I moved the TV. Because I just need the internet. No, it's not
expensive- it pretty much comes with internet for free nowadays.)
Ok, ready? Check out theweek.com! Best magazine on the planet, bar
none. It bills itself (fairly accurately) as "All You Need To Know
About Everything That Matters" and it's pretty much just that. All that
it's missing is detailed Cubs analysis, but that could be personal
preference. The Week is a small magazine that has the best of all the
news and happenings, national and international. Sprinkle in some
best-of reviews (they've never steered me wrong on a book or movie),
notable quotes, and best properties on the market (that page rocks.),
and you've got yourself the only magazine you'll ever need. I'm almost
hesitant to recommend it to others (but I do) because I'm worried it
will give away one of the greatest sources to my near-infinite grasp of
trivial knowledge. If you read The Week regularly, you would find me 43%
less interesting.
Also, congratulations to Bee for first-ing my follower list!
I think there should be a category for followers, and a category for
minions. Mmm... minions.
Check back tomorrow for my expose: "How To Spot A Government Employee!"
Peace out Tweet
So, "enough with the suspense already!" you say? Change your life with
a fantastic new product?
In a minute.
First, today's headlines:
Ever heard of Williams Syndrome? It's a genetic defect that eliminates
social anxiety and causes "hyper-social" behavior. Apparently people
with this condition have no racial biases yet still manage to
discriminate on the basis of gender. Score one for men.
Stephen Seagal, mediocre movie BA, apparently keeps young Russian girls
as sex slaves. I know what you're thinking- and I would probably have a
few myself if I were rich too- but this is wrong and you shouldn't
condone it.
Conan O'Brien, that loveable cherub, is headed to TBS. He will be
joining oldie hits (Married With Children, Home Improvement, etc.), MLB,
and The Office to create perhaps the greatest young-guy-TV-hodgepodge
that any network has ever assembled. I might have to plug my cable cord
into my TV. (no, it's not already. Because the cord wasn't long enough
when I moved the TV. Because I just need the internet. No, it's not
expensive- it pretty much comes with internet for free nowadays.)
Ok, ready? Check out theweek.com! Best magazine on the planet, bar
none. It bills itself (fairly accurately) as "All You Need To Know
About Everything That Matters" and it's pretty much just that. All that
it's missing is detailed Cubs analysis, but that could be personal
preference. The Week is a small magazine that has the best of all the
news and happenings, national and international. Sprinkle in some
best-of reviews (they've never steered me wrong on a book or movie),
notable quotes, and best properties on the market (that page rocks.),
and you've got yourself the only magazine you'll ever need. I'm almost
hesitant to recommend it to others (but I do) because I'm worried it
will give away one of the greatest sources to my near-infinite grasp of
trivial knowledge. If you read The Week regularly, you would find me 43%
less interesting.
Also, congratulations to Bee for first-ing my follower list!
I think there should be a category for followers, and a category for
minions. Mmm... minions.
Check back tomorrow for my expose: "How To Spot A Government Employee!"
Peace out Tweet
Monday, April 12, 2010
Day 5: The Good, The Bad, The Whiny
What? You didn't think I worked weekends, did you?
Monday report: The Good, The Bad, and The Whiny
Good: Cubs home-opener today at newly-renovated Wrigley Field! Great
success.
Bad: Jeff Samardzia has an ERA of 108. That's right, 108. To give
perspective to a non-baseball person, that's like having a FICO credit
score of -17,000. Or spelling your own name wrong when taking the SATs.
Or having a free throw percentage in the high teens. Not good.
Whiny: The Cubs have a psychiatrist in the clubhouse now, so they are
free to talk about their feelings with a trained professional.
Feelings.. ha! Losers.
Good: Anderson Silva wins his UFC bout, spending most of his time
dancing around the ring, offering his face up to the other guy just
daring him to "bring it."
Bad: Turns out that I don't really like Marlboro special blend #54
cigarettes. Since I smoke only on weekends, I had to abandon that pack
and get one that didn't suck right away. Also, did you know that there
are soft-pack cigarettes? I didn't.
Whiny: I bought an AM radio to listen to Cubs games at work or when at
the gym but the antenna sucks a big one. It gets one station: Rush
Limbaugh. And that station only comes in when I set the radio on the
far right side of my desk.
Good: Finished Blink by Malcolm Gladwell, which was an awesome book.
Basically about gut versus logic, and when to use which one. Seems that
his theory is to use your gut on complicated decisions like choosing a
mate, which seems to work out for everyone who has tried that particular
method.
Bad: Left a banana in my car for several days; I think it still looks
okay: I'm going to eat it.
Whiny: Apparently scientists have analyzed paintings of The Last
Supper and have found that portion size has increased 67% from 1000AD
to 2000AD. If I could draw I would paint a picture of The Last Supper
with a plate full of McDonald Dubs (double cheeseburgers for you
non-McDonaldians) on a platter, with Judas nervously munching some fries
and Jesus giving him a "you're the kind of guy who double dips" sort of
look. Alas.
Tomorrow I'm going to reveal a product that will change your world!
Peace out, girl scout.
Tweet
Monday report: The Good, The Bad, and The Whiny
Good: Cubs home-opener today at newly-renovated Wrigley Field! Great
success.
Bad: Jeff Samardzia has an ERA of 108. That's right, 108. To give
perspective to a non-baseball person, that's like having a FICO credit
score of -17,000. Or spelling your own name wrong when taking the SATs.
Or having a free throw percentage in the high teens. Not good.
Whiny: The Cubs have a psychiatrist in the clubhouse now, so they are
free to talk about their feelings with a trained professional.
Feelings.. ha! Losers.
Good: Anderson Silva wins his UFC bout, spending most of his time
dancing around the ring, offering his face up to the other guy just
daring him to "bring it."
Bad: Turns out that I don't really like Marlboro special blend #54
cigarettes. Since I smoke only on weekends, I had to abandon that pack
and get one that didn't suck right away. Also, did you know that there
are soft-pack cigarettes? I didn't.
Whiny: I bought an AM radio to listen to Cubs games at work or when at
the gym but the antenna sucks a big one. It gets one station: Rush
Limbaugh. And that station only comes in when I set the radio on the
far right side of my desk.
Good: Finished Blink by Malcolm Gladwell, which was an awesome book.
Basically about gut versus logic, and when to use which one. Seems that
his theory is to use your gut on complicated decisions like choosing a
mate, which seems to work out for everyone who has tried that particular
method.
Bad: Left a banana in my car for several days; I think it still looks
okay: I'm going to eat it.
Whiny: Apparently scientists have analyzed paintings of The Last
Supper and have found that portion size has increased 67% from 1000AD
to 2000AD. If I could draw I would paint a picture of The Last Supper
with a plate full of McDonald Dubs (double cheeseburgers for you
non-McDonaldians) on a platter, with Judas nervously munching some fries
and Jesus giving him a "you're the kind of guy who double dips" sort of
look. Alas.
Tomorrow I'm going to reveal a product that will change your world!
Peace out, girl scout.
Tweet
Friday, April 9, 2010
Day 4: 5 Videos You Must Watch!
Readers, (me)
I have recently noticed a gap in cultural literacy amongst people. If I yell "Leroy Jenkins!" at the top of my lungs, or sing "Tu liba diba douchoo," you should know exactly what I'm referring to and laugh along. I'm astounded when I find my hilarious pop-culture references to great internet videos met with idle stares and questions of "huh?" If you have been hiding with Osama in a cave for years now and are unfamiliar with funny interweb videos and cultural references, I've compiled a short list of 5 videos for you to watch and begin the process of getting in the "know." (Ironically, I don't really "know" what that means.)
To start, Tulibu Dibu Douchoo. Just watch- no explanation necessary! (However, there is an entire world of hilarious American Idol spinoffs in foreign countries. See also: Taiwanese kid with bowl-cut sings "I Will Always Love You" and sounds exactly like Whitney Huston)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_RgL2MKfWTo
Next up, World of Warcraft video starring the ever-impatient Leroy Jenkins. Even if you aren't into games, this is a good one. (See also: WoW funeral crash)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LkCNJRfSZBU
Thirdly, there is a world of laughing babies out there. Nothing, NOTHING, is funnier or more heartwarming (if you're into that) than listening to babies with an awesome laugh. Puts your baby to shame! My favorite is the laughing quadruplets. (See also: "laughing german baby" and "Charlie bit my finger")
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yE6PNps5N9I
Okay, number four should NOT be watched. "2 girls, 1 Cup." Do NOT look this up, do NOT watch it, and do NOT talk about it. Seriously. Just know that it is very, hugely, amazingly wrong and gross and, and, just, don't watch it. Remember if someone asks you to come watch this video, just say "no." Serious.
http://www.doNOTwatch2girls1cup-for serious.thisisnotarealwebsitesodonotclick.com
Given the sheer number of awesome videos out there (just google "viral internet videos" and you'll find tons of sites with awesome lists) I thought I would make number five a new one that is just getting around: "standing cat" (it is what you think it is). I like the video by itself, but with the volume off and me playing the national anthem in my head while I watched it I found it to be three times funnier! Try it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GbiD_kqfVfQ
Hopefully you at least have a glimpse into the awesome world of online videos. Forget vitamins, make online videos your daily routine. I use break.com everyday, but there are lots of sites out there.
PS check out "Ninja Dave!"
PSS if anyone has a girlfriend who accidentally read yesterday's post about girlfriend maintenance and is now facing a super-pissed she-demon, I have a further tip (5.1) that might help you out. Girls, when angry, are not to be around. Avoid them until they calm down (or sober up) and then ask them questions and listen to what they have to say and stuff. They love that and you'll be back to normal in no time. If they continue to get upset regularly however, you may have to begin disciplinary measures. See my "how to properly roll up a newspaper" article for further guidance. Tweet
I have recently noticed a gap in cultural literacy amongst people. If I yell "Leroy Jenkins!" at the top of my lungs, or sing "Tu liba diba douchoo," you should know exactly what I'm referring to and laugh along. I'm astounded when I find my hilarious pop-culture references to great internet videos met with idle stares and questions of "huh?" If you have been hiding with Osama in a cave for years now and are unfamiliar with funny interweb videos and cultural references, I've compiled a short list of 5 videos for you to watch and begin the process of getting in the "know." (Ironically, I don't really "know" what that means.)
To start, Tulibu Dibu Douchoo. Just watch- no explanation necessary! (However, there is an entire world of hilarious American Idol spinoffs in foreign countries. See also: Taiwanese kid with bowl-cut sings "I Will Always Love You" and sounds exactly like Whitney Huston)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_RgL2MKfWTo
Next up, World of Warcraft video starring the ever-impatient Leroy Jenkins. Even if you aren't into games, this is a good one. (See also: WoW funeral crash)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LkCNJRfSZBU
Thirdly, there is a world of laughing babies out there. Nothing, NOTHING, is funnier or more heartwarming (if you're into that) than listening to babies with an awesome laugh. Puts your baby to shame! My favorite is the laughing quadruplets. (See also: "laughing german baby" and "Charlie bit my finger")
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yE6PNps5N9I
Okay, number four should NOT be watched. "2 girls, 1 Cup." Do NOT look this up, do NOT watch it, and do NOT talk about it. Seriously. Just know that it is very, hugely, amazingly wrong and gross and, and, just, don't watch it. Remember if someone asks you to come watch this video, just say "no." Serious.
http://www.doNOTwatch2girls1cup-for serious.thisisnotarealwebsitesodonotclick.com
Given the sheer number of awesome videos out there (just google "viral internet videos" and you'll find tons of sites with awesome lists) I thought I would make number five a new one that is just getting around: "standing cat" (it is what you think it is). I like the video by itself, but with the volume off and me playing the national anthem in my head while I watched it I found it to be three times funnier! Try it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GbiD_kqfVfQ
Hopefully you at least have a glimpse into the awesome world of online videos. Forget vitamins, make online videos your daily routine. I use break.com everyday, but there are lots of sites out there.
PS check out "Ninja Dave!"
PSS if anyone has a girlfriend who accidentally read yesterday's post about girlfriend maintenance and is now facing a super-pissed she-demon, I have a further tip (5.1) that might help you out. Girls, when angry, are not to be around. Avoid them until they calm down (or sober up) and then ask them questions and listen to what they have to say and stuff. They love that and you'll be back to normal in no time. If they continue to get upset regularly however, you may have to begin disciplinary measures. See my "how to properly roll up a newspaper" article for further guidance. Tweet
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Day 3: 5 Tips For Care and Maintenance of Your Girlfriend!
Hello and welcome! My name is Caleb Shreves and I will be guiding you
on the proper care and maintenance of your girlfriend with five,
easy-to-use tips that will ensure that your relationship is a successful
one.
Number one. Girlfriends need lots of exercise! If you are at home and
your girlfriend seems to be doing a lot of pacing and moving around,
it's probably time to take her for a walk and burn off some of that
energy. I recommend having a leash right by the door for convenience so
that, when she's restless, it's a snap to just grab the leash and walk
her around the block a few times. If, at the end of the walk, she
appears extra energetic, you should hold still and let her go in
circles around you. Just let her run it off! This way, she will be all
tuckered out later and will fall asleep so you can play Xbox Live.
Number two. Girls. Like. Eating!! You may have one of those girlfriend
types that pretend to like salads and pick at their food, but gentlemen
let me tell you that this is a sham and that she definitely has food
hidden somewhere. Your goal should be to break through this salad
barrier and get her to eat lots of food; preferably heavier foods like
steak and potatoes. If she is full she is less likely to bother you
when its sleepy time. Personally I recommend giving girls a steak
sandwich... but not too many!
Number three. Distractions. Always have something handy with which you
can distract your girlfriend in case she starts to hassle you or just
seems playful. I recommend anything shiny -beads, necklaces, shirts
with glitter- or something fun like a ball of twine. This is also handy
if you don't feel like taking her for a walk but you want to tire her out- just have a tennis ball (with glitter) and play fetch! She'll
be zonked out and you'll be pagghin' N00bs on Halo in no time. Also,
distractions can be vital when you need to make a quick getaway.
Number four. Girls like them some sex! They need it, too. And let me
remind you fellas, if you aren't having sex with your girlfriend,
someone else is! (not me.) You need to be having sex with your
girlfriend at least twice, ok, four times (?) per week no matter what. So
if you don't have time- make time! Sex also produces chemicals in a
woman that can make her more friendly, more loyal, and sometimes?
Taller.
Number five. You might have noticed that the first four tips all in
some way related to sleeping. That's good that you noticed because it
leads directly into tip number 5: sleepy time. If you have ever had a
cat, or have known someone with a cat, you probably know that cats are
on a different schedule than we are. When we are sleeping, they are
running laps around the house, right? Well, girlfriends are on
different sleep schedules than us too. That's why you either have had or will
have a girl tap you on the shoulder right as you are about to fall
asleep, waking you up from the dream you were just starting to have, and
she'll say something like "Pss... I was wondering if we could talk about
us..." No! Gentlemen, no. It is never, ever, ever, ever a good idea
to talk about, "us", right before bed. If you haven't already wore her
out through proper diet, exercise, play, or sex, then this is a good
opportunity to pretend to be asleep. Do NOT wake up and commence a
conversation. "us" is never a good conversation. Just let her fret and
lay awake for awhile. Don't worry- she's done it before. She'll be
fine.
Okay then! My name is Caleb Shreves and these have been five tips to
care for and maintain your girlfriend. You should now be able to handle
even the most troublesome of girls! If, however, you have found
yourself with one that is extra crazy don't worry; I'll be putting out
an Asian-girl survival guide soon. Good luck! Tweet
on the proper care and maintenance of your girlfriend with five,
easy-to-use tips that will ensure that your relationship is a successful
one.
Number one. Girlfriends need lots of exercise! If you are at home and
your girlfriend seems to be doing a lot of pacing and moving around,
it's probably time to take her for a walk and burn off some of that
energy. I recommend having a leash right by the door for convenience so
that, when she's restless, it's a snap to just grab the leash and walk
her around the block a few times. If, at the end of the walk, she
appears extra energetic, you should hold still and let her go in
circles around you. Just let her run it off! This way, she will be all
tuckered out later and will fall asleep so you can play Xbox Live.
Number two. Girls. Like. Eating!! You may have one of those girlfriend
types that pretend to like salads and pick at their food, but gentlemen
let me tell you that this is a sham and that she definitely has food
hidden somewhere. Your goal should be to break through this salad
barrier and get her to eat lots of food; preferably heavier foods like
steak and potatoes. If she is full she is less likely to bother you
when its sleepy time. Personally I recommend giving girls a steak
sandwich... but not too many!
Number three. Distractions. Always have something handy with which you
can distract your girlfriend in case she starts to hassle you or just
seems playful. I recommend anything shiny -beads, necklaces, shirts
with glitter- or something fun like a ball of twine. This is also handy
if you don't feel like taking her for a walk but you want to tire her out- just have a tennis ball (with glitter) and play fetch! She'll
be zonked out and you'll be pagghin' N00bs on Halo in no time. Also,
distractions can be vital when you need to make a quick getaway.
Number four. Girls like them some sex! They need it, too. And let me
remind you fellas, if you aren't having sex with your girlfriend,
someone else is! (not me.) You need to be having sex with your
girlfriend at least twice, ok, four times (?) per week no matter what. So
if you don't have time- make time! Sex also produces chemicals in a
woman that can make her more friendly, more loyal, and sometimes?
Taller.
Number five. You might have noticed that the first four tips all in
some way related to sleeping. That's good that you noticed because it
leads directly into tip number 5: sleepy time. If you have ever had a
cat, or have known someone with a cat, you probably know that cats are
on a different schedule than we are. When we are sleeping, they are
running laps around the house, right? Well, girlfriends are on
different sleep schedules than us too. That's why you either have had or will
have a girl tap you on the shoulder right as you are about to fall
asleep, waking you up from the dream you were just starting to have, and
she'll say something like "Pss... I was wondering if we could talk about
us..." No! Gentlemen, no. It is never, ever, ever, ever a good idea
to talk about, "us", right before bed. If you haven't already wore her
out through proper diet, exercise, play, or sex, then this is a good
opportunity to pretend to be asleep. Do NOT wake up and commence a
conversation. "us" is never a good conversation. Just let her fret and
lay awake for awhile. Don't worry- she's done it before. She'll be
fine.
Okay then! My name is Caleb Shreves and these have been five tips to
care for and maintain your girlfriend. You should now be able to handle
even the most troublesome of girls! If, however, you have found
yourself with one that is extra crazy don't worry; I'll be putting out
an Asian-girl survival guide soon. Good luck! Tweet
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Day 2- The Keurig Machine
Day 2!
Apparently there was no need for concern over whether or not there would be anything to even blog about. Something-or-other-istan is in an uproar, a 16 year old kid is suing his mother for Facebook slander, and Great White Sharks (yes they get capitalized) are reported now to swim up to 500 feet deeper than they have been known to before (Thank God! Yes!). However, I'm going to shove that (and other fun things for the day- like me offering my professional comedy-writing services up on fiver.com) (ha!) aside and bring this blog into focus by making sure that you are aware of and either a. have, b. will have, or c. [blank- seriously, get one] a Keurig coffee machine.
What's a Keurig, you say? Only the very best beverage-enjoyment machine/ life-altering awesome-contraption available on the market today. Not joking here- tell me that my house is burning down and measure my brainwaves to see what item I think of saving first. The fact that its relatively inexpensive and certainly replaceable notwithstanding, my cat has legs and can run her chubby butt to safety. You can check out the website keurig.com for info on its coffee (and tea, hot chocolate, etc.) brewing specifics, but trust me on this one: get this machine. A Keurig cannot be explained, the same way that you can't describe yellow to a blind person. But once you see yourself a beautiful sunset on a beach with a margarita in your hand, you know you've found something special. I'll leave you with a quote that I always hear, with slight variation, from every person who gets a Keurig: "How did I ever live without this machine?"
Oh, and when you get one try the Breakfast Blend K-cup from Green Mountain Company- it's a very nice intro to the K-cup world. If I could put my meals in K-cups, I would. And sometimes do.
PS one day I'll explain to you my theory about how coffee cures blindness, paralysis, boredom, polio, and scurvy. Not to mention it can actually make you taller and more charismatic over time.
Tweet
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
The Blog Experiment
I was Stumbling around on the internet and came across a good idea. What if you created a blog, wrote in it at least several times a week, posted to it all the interesting internet things you found, and did this for a month? Looking back, what would you find that you were most interested in? Would you find a career idea that fit you really well? I was going to try this experiment myself but I remembered that I agreed to not be a porn star so I backed out. The end.
Just kidding. I think this is a decent idea so I'm going to try it out. Here is going to be the basic layout:
1. Cool stuff you need to have/do/try
2. Things I thought of during the day that are funny to me
3. Philosophical thoughts
We'll start out today with one from category one: cool stuff. Have you heard of stumbleupon.com yet? When I said I was "Stumbling" around on the internet earlier did you immediately smile, nod, and think to yourself "Fo sheezy- I'm picking up what you're laying down!" and give me an imaginary fistbump? If not and you want in on this crazy-cool awesomeness, then go to stumbleupon.com right meow and give yourself the best internet treat you've had since you finally went 100% Google! (Seriously- how long did it take you to figure out that "Jeeves" didn't know shit?)
What is stumble? Basically, we all know there's a bunch of kick-ass websites out there, but we just gaze vapidly at the nearly-blank Google search screen, unsure of what to do (you know you do). Stumble solves all that by hopping you to random web pages that are awesome, based on your interests and likes! How does it know a site is awesome? Because you say so. I know, right? If you like a page that you Stumble onto, then you click a little thumbs-up symbol. If not, thumbs-down. If only meeting chicks was that easy. As more and more people thumbs-up a page, it become popular and gets stumbled on more! Seriously- the internet is the awesomest thing the planet has ever known (I would say "except for Vera Farmiga" but the internet has her, too) but we only ever see a tiny fraction of the crazy awesomeness out there. Time to put your stumbling hats on, folks!
Shreves out. Tweet
Just kidding. I think this is a decent idea so I'm going to try it out. Here is going to be the basic layout:
1. Cool stuff you need to have/do/try
2. Things I thought of during the day that are funny to me
3. Philosophical thoughts
We'll start out today with one from category one: cool stuff. Have you heard of stumbleupon.com yet? When I said I was "Stumbling" around on the internet earlier did you immediately smile, nod, and think to yourself "Fo sheezy- I'm picking up what you're laying down!" and give me an imaginary fistbump? If not and you want in on this crazy-cool awesomeness, then go to stumbleupon.com right meow and give yourself the best internet treat you've had since you finally went 100% Google! (Seriously- how long did it take you to figure out that "Jeeves" didn't know shit?)
What is stumble? Basically, we all know there's a bunch of kick-ass websites out there, but we just gaze vapidly at the nearly-blank Google search screen, unsure of what to do (you know you do). Stumble solves all that by hopping you to random web pages that are awesome, based on your interests and likes! How does it know a site is awesome? Because you say so. I know, right? If you like a page that you Stumble onto, then you click a little thumbs-up symbol. If not, thumbs-down. If only meeting chicks was that easy. As more and more people thumbs-up a page, it become popular and gets stumbled on more! Seriously- the internet is the awesomest thing the planet has ever known (I would say "except for Vera Farmiga" but the internet has her, too) but we only ever see a tiny fraction of the crazy awesomeness out there. Time to put your stumbling hats on, folks!
Shreves out. Tweet
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