 
How to Write an Awesome Blog:

Volume 1

By Tim Boyle

Blog: http://mooselicker.wordpress.com

E-mail: TimBoyle109@yahoo.com

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/mrtimboyle

Twitter: @warlordtimboyle

How to Write an Awesome Blog

Published by Tim Boyle at Smashwords

Copyright 2013 Tim Boyle

What Makes A Good Blog?

Like many things in life, this question is completely retarded. Anything that's good is subjective. There's nothing in existence that everybody enjoys. Even sex grosses some people out and sex, pardon my French, is fucking awesome.

The following words you're about to read have been taken from my blog I have maintained since April 2011. The blog name is Mooselicker. Look it up, enjoy new posts.

I've edited through these old pieces a little bit to make them more book relevant. My hope is to in each section give you a little bit of insight into what questions you should ask yourself when writing a blog and different pieces I wrote that answer these important questions I feel are necessary to building up a blogging audience. In other words, it's an excuse to make this more than just a rehash of old things I've written. Some bloggers don't bother changing a thing. Those bloggers are, pardon my German, fucking assholes.

I am by no means famous, successful, or all-knowing. I simply would like to share with you some of my favorite pieces I have written for my blog since it began while giving you a few lessons along the way. Do I sound like a condescending asshole at all? I really hope not.

Enjoy these pieces from my blog about my life, worldly opinions, and other inane nonsense about everyday life.

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Who Are You and Where Do You Live?

This is not to say you are required to give out every bit of information you can about your personal life. If you want to keep your name private that's fine. The same goes for your location. If you don't want people knowing where you live then continue being a creepy catfish. Facts will show you that no blogger has ever been stalked down and killed, quit worrying. And if someone ever is stalked down and killed because of their blog, think about the hits it will give you!

On my blog I started off not giving out too much information at all. I too was worried people would find out stuff about me that I didn't want anyone knowing. Quickly I learned the best thing to do is reveal who you are. It's impossible to build up a fanbase if nobody knows a thing about you. Don't be a man or woman of mystery. Embrace who you are and everything about it. Most of all don't get killed. It would look me really bad if you got killed after implementing my advice.

My Names: Originally Posted 9/30/2011

"Hello. My name is Tim Boyle."

That's how none of my conversations ever start. They probably should start that way, but they don't. I'm too awkward for that. Most of my conversations with strangers start with me judging them on a physical flaw. I'll nod and hope I never have to see them again. I usually get my way because I am constantly rolling my eyes while others speak.

Tim isn't a bad first name. It's not as great as Deacon, Lexington, Jackson, or something else that makes me sound like a gay biker. I've never been made fun of for my name. That's a good thing. I've known people who have been. Any bit of cleverness has to come from my last name. I had a teacher call me "Tim Hard Boyle'd Egg." It got a lot of laughs from the 6th grade class. I had a rough year.

There isn't anything too heinous that could relate to my last name that would be plain offensive. I guess if I had been boiled alive it could offend me. At that point, why would I care? I survived being mixed in a giant black pot by cannibals. Everything after is cake because they didn't have the opportunity to turn me into cake. Little known fact about cannibals, they love cake.

I'm not positive about the meaning of either of my names. My mom told me that Timothy means "honoring God." I used to live up to my name, but my interpretation of the name God is "being there for those in need." There are about a dozen commercials with malnourished children and battered women who think he needs to work on living up to his name as well. If he doesn't have to live up to his name, neither do I.

From what I know about my last name, there is a city in Ireland called O'Boyle, or so I was told. I've never found any evidence to back it up. I had the opportunity to talk to three people from Ireland once and they had never heard of the city. Someone lied to me. But does it really matter where the name came from? It's still mine and doesn't change who I am, unless of course it means "cocksucking ape" in Gaelic which I doubt it does because there are few apes in Ireland.

Sometimes people share my name. Tim is a pretty common name. There's Tim Allen who had a hit sitcom with Home Improvement. There's Timothy McVeigh who blew up a building with children in it. There's that fiction writer Timothy who worked on The Bible. Tims have a reputation for being successful. We rarely fail. Ask Timothy Dalton. Oh wait you can't because he's too busy racing dune buggies in his giant mansion.

My last name is also shared. Susan Boyle unfortunately happens to be the most famous. She's the fat mess who was popular a few years ago for having a lovely singing voice and a monster's ass for a face. I'm sure you remember her. How could you ever erase her face from your mind? She's just too damn ugly.

Other people have the last name Boyle. I don't believe any of them have ever accomplished very much. The owner of Columbia Sportswear shares my exact name. I tried to get discounts but they refused because he's a jerk. That actually never happened. He still is a jerk though. He should share the wealth with his namesake. He hogs it all with his mother Gert. Now that's a terrible name. Gert sounds like a type of growth on the bottom of a foot. Irish people aren't good at giving out names.

Overall, I don't mind my names. Eventually I plan on changing my name to Timo Theebuille to fool people into thinking I am ethnic, thus getting hired faster or not at all, depending on the company policies. The beauty of it is if you say it fast enough it's pronounced the same as Timothy Boyle, my birth certificate name. I could be crazy in doing that and by then there will be a huge backlash against affirmative action. Until then I'll stick with the names I was given at birth.

Locations: Originally Posted 5/15/2011

I live in the most boring place in the Universe. At least, I've convinced myself this.

I live on planet earth. I know this doesn't come as much of a surprise to anyone reading this as the Internet connection on Neptune is quite poor. They still use AOL. Earth is the worst named planet of them all. The other planets are named after ancient Gods. I don't know where earth gets its name from, probably from the holiday Earth Day which was created some time in the 1970s. Earth is the only planet that you don't capitalize in the middle of the sentence. I think so at least. I remember one of my teachers correcting me when I capitalized it. Then she hit me with a globe.

On earth I live on the continent North America. This is a continent so lame that it has to have "north" thrown into it. The continent I live on has, what, three countries? I'm not sure what continents some countries fall into. Greenland and Iceland are in the middle of nowhere. Greenland is also very icy and Iceland is very green. Someone fucked up at the Country Naming Bureau. The name America comes from an old man named Amerigo Vespucci. I went to school with a fat girl with the last name Vespucci. She was the size of America. I always find this ironic. When she would fall asleep in class we would draw to scale maps on her body. It seemed wrong not to.

In North America I live in the worst named country in the world, The United States of America. Maybe it's not the worst named country. But you have to admit, it is a terrible name. The fact that our country averages a civil war every 250 years shows we are not united. It scares me that we're due for another civil war. I don't want South Dakota invading Iowa. Actually that wouldn't bother me. I'm not a big fan of corn or dream catchers. Countries like Germany, Ireland, Taiwan, and Uzbekistan have such unique interesting names that might mean something. The United States of America means exactly what it says. It really isn't much different than how China calls itself The People's Republic of China. Usually when countries have more than one word in its name they're bullshitting someone. I think we're bullshitting ourselves.

In the United States of America I live in New Jersey. This is a state so bad that it couldn't have an original name. We had to take it from England. The assholes who settled here had no imagination. Jukilfrog isn't a word. Why not name it that? I never got why you would name something a newer version. The only situation where I'd allow it would be if you have a kid who dies. If you have a kid named Rhonda and it dies, name the next kid New Rhonda. Chances are, if you named your kid Rhonda it died from suicide. Rhonda is a lousy name. R's and H's should never touch each other. They're like cats and dogs or ballerinas and astronauts; complete opposites that should stay away from each other. New Jersey gets a lot of shit from all over. It's not as bad of a place as everyone thinks. The name sucks a lot. But we've got beaches. So you Missouri fucks better shut up. You only have a dopey river to dip your toes into. We've got an entire ocean. We can dispose of a body much easier. Stop stereotyping us over in Jersey you uneducated cannibal incestuous rapist Missouri citizens.

In New Jersey I live in Camden County. This is a county named after one of the most dangerous cities in the country. I don't know why it shares the named with the city. There are a lot of nice places in the county. Maybe it's to fool people into thinking the entire county is one giant aquarium. All of the Philadelphia athletes live in the county too. It can't be that bad. This whole county is filled with aquariums and linebackers. You can't walk down a street without seeing a blowfish or an angry black man. Maybe they're not linebackers. They could be though.

Hamilton Squares: Originally Posted 1/14/2013

I consider my hometown to be Hamilton Square, New Jersey. Sometimes I leave out the square because I don't want people knowing I grew up in a place that lets it be known we're all L7's. It's true though. The town Hamilton Square is full of squares, jive turkeys, and playa haters; you know, the worst kinds of people. Each time I'm back in my hometown I remember why I never wanted to live there any longer. The people are rude, egos are inflated, and there are too many damn people wandering about doing nothing. When the Taco Bell parking lot is the place the teens hang out at who needs to ever achieve anything in life?

Hamilton Square is known for a few things. It's the origin of Megan's Law, home to the post office where the government faked the anthrax mailings (I also think the Home Depot across the street is where they filmed the Moon Landing), and that's about all it's known for. As much as I hate the town I have decided to list out a few reasons why Hamilton Square is a great place to live, grow up in, and die.

1) Jaded by Suicide: You can't throw a beer can at anyone in Hamilton Square's face who doesn't know someone who has killed themselves. It's always young white people too which seems a little silly. Depressed young white people are supposed to join cults not search Google on how to tie a noose. I don't know an incredible amount of people who have killed themselves but I know enough where it almost seems like a rite of passage. If you don't kill yourself you're pretty much destined to live your life wishing you had. Having such an apathetic opinion on suicide means nothing really shocks me. It's not so much why someone killed themselves as much as it is what of theirs I might be able to get cheap at a yard sale. Once I got a swivel chair. It was a really good bargain.

2) Easy to Find Drugs: One time I was walking down the street in Hamilton Square and bumped into a heroin needle. I'm kidding. Hamilton has no streets to casually walk down because it's lame. Everyone in the entire county, Mercer, does drugs it seems. I'm sure it's not much different in other parts of the country or anything. It just seems like this area was always known for having drugs because it was white people with money. Personally I've only ever seen someone do hard drugs once and it was in a Pennsylvania town called New Hope. Name a town after the first Star Wars film's subheading and this is what you get.

3) You'll Never Spend too Much Time at the Mall: The Hamilton area has one major mall called Quakerbridge. Yeah, Quakers need bridges too. I had always assumed they were great swimmers or at the very least had the power of flight. The Quakerbridge Mall is probably only better than another nearby mall in Princeton called Princeton Market Fair. At least Market Fair has a Barnes and Noble and a movie theater. Market Fair also has a ton of Chinese people so if you're on a racial scavenger hunt that's a good tip for you to knock out the Asian countries. I think the last time I went into the Quakerbridge Mall was when I took a girl there a few years back. She said "This mall blows" and she was right. Quakerbridge Mall would be better served as an Iraqi hospital. And by that I mean it deserves a missile to hit it.

4) It's Easy to Keep in Touch With People: Nobody lets you mind your own business here. You can't even buy porn in this town without running into a big mean lesbian you knew from high school. The best part is now she's a guy named Tony. The only thing I like about the accessibility of running into people from the past was when I saw a hot girl from high school jogging. Is there a mile per hour rating less than 0? That's how fast I was driving as I slowly drove up on the curb alongside her remembering why 11th grade health class was tolerable.

5) Everyone is in Great Shape: Or at least everyone goes to the gym and talks about it. I used to always think my hometown was nothing like Jersey Shore. The further I distance myself emotionally from the place I see it's not all too different. We're about an hour away from the beach which means we're not as tan or as mind-blinded by the sun. If I ever become a scientist on accident my first hypothesis would be the more sun a person sees the dumber they are. There are so many gyms in and around Hamilton Square you're an outsider if you don't go to one. I'm not sure where the people who are actually in shape go because everyone I run into must have fake Gym IDs based on the way they look. I know way too many fat people.

If you happened to read this and you are from Hamilton Square I'm so sorry. I'm not sorry if I offended you. I'm sorry you grew up in such a lame place.

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What Do You Do For Fun?

A good blog is an exciting blog. Good bloggers talk about who they are, events from their childhood and most importantly, their current lifestyles. You don't need to tell people every detail about your life. That's what Twitter is for. When writing a blog you need to let people know there's more to your life than sitting in front of a computer checking your stats, even if there's not much else.

People sometimes ask me what it is I like to do for fun. Honestly, not much. The average person enjoys getting shit-faced drunk for fun. I don't drink because alcoholism runs in my family and I have a hard enough time with self-control when it comes to eating too many bananas. I hear those things can kill you if you eat too many. So, I stay away from alcohol. One thing I don't stay away from is going out to bars. How else am I going to get my dick sucked? By going to the gym, having a nice job, and treating women nicely? Fuck that shit. Finding someone drunk is so much easier.

New Experiences: Originally Posted 1/21/2012

One of my "resolutions" for 2012 was to have new experiences. I put the word resolutions in quotations because I didn't come up with it being a resolution until a few seconds ago. I'm also not a person who likes to say I will do something because it's a new year. I do something because I think it will make my life better. I do something because I hope it helps get pretty girls to talk to me.

My Saturday nights typically aren't very exciting. I'll either sit at home working on something I'm writing, go somewhere with my ex-girlfriend (that feels weird to say, right now we call each other "some random guy/girl" I think it helps because we both hate all of our exes), or I'll watch TV. And when I say TV, I mean I plug my external hard drive into my computer and watch television shows that were on 5 years ago. I don't want you thinking I spend my Saturday nights watching Cops. Even I find that a little pathetic and I have a large booger hanging from a nose hair as I type.

I made an attempt to do something new on a Saturday night. I gathered up all of my friends (one guy) and decided we would paint the town red. Our first fun stop was Subway. That might not sound so exciting, but by golly you haven't had fun until you've hung out with us! Get this. I had jalapenos on my sandwich. I like to live dangerously. Even more thrilling, he tried a brand new sandwich that he never eaten before and got some jalapeno flavored chips to go with it. Oh my! We're such exciting boys.

We sat in the parking lot for 20 minutes after trying to figure out what to do. I texted everyone I knew (my two sisters) to find out where a good place to hang out might be. He texted everyone he knew (me) and I told him that if he had something to say he could just say it out loud. Apparently my hometown hasn't changed much since I moved. I'm still around there enough, but I figured in the last two years maybe an arcade or an orgy palace had spawned up.

My sisters were no help. The one suggested going someplace I always go to, going someplace that was 40 minutes away, and then suggesting I go fuck myself if her suggestions weren't good enough. My other sister was even less helpful. She didn't even have a suggestion. I always wonder where 21-year-old girls hang out. The lesson of the night, they hang out at home with a friend just as clueless as they are.

Eventually we decided to give some new bar a shot. It's not really new as much as it looks clean and we remember when it was built. He knew someone who was almost date raped there so we thought this could lead to some excitement. The crowd was a "gigantic sausage fest" as he suggested. The bartender was either pregnant or only stores fat in her lower abdomen. I didn't ask. We thought it was best to leave. We weren't going to get date raped here like we hoped. Not with a playoff football game on the TV. Oh, but we did spot the first homosexual we ever knew there. He was one of those kids who you knew was gay when he was 12. He has a huge bald spot now. I sense the Westboro Baptist Church reading this then saying the fact that he was gay led to his baldness. The Westboro Baptist Church is so gay.

Our sphincters intact, it was time to try somewhere else. We journeyed to a place that was even closer to our childhood homes. I won't say where because I recognized a few people there. My new shtick is telling people I meet that I'm a professional psychic medium. I don't want to be found out if one of them for some reason reads this and finds out that I can't really talk to dead people. I'd owe a lot of people their money back.

While entering, a large man joked with us about getting a fake cigarette and then said "Look, the Lee sisters, Lonely and Ugly" as a lonely and ugly woman passed by. It took me a moment to get it. Now it's my favorite thing to say.

We walked in and the place was much emptier than I expected. We managed to get a seat right away which is always a plus. The bartender came over immediately and asked us what we wanted. I said "I'll just have water." I always throw in the word "just" when ordering water. I probably shouldn't. It makes me sound like a coward. I'm admitting what a wimp I am for not drinking. I should really say "I'll start with a water and possibly move onto something more mind altering depending upon how the evening goes." But I don't. My buddy got a Miller Lite because it was the only thing on Tap that he could spot.

It was a typical pub. Young people, old people, loners, couples, hamburgers, sports, a clogged toilet, darts. The best thing was that most of the people who worked there were attractive. Even the homeliest was probably in the top 15 of bartenders I've ever seen in person. Maybe our night was going to turn around. Bartenders need sexy time from people too. I've only ever hooked up with one bartender. I'm not even positive if she was a bartender. She was probably only a waitress at a bar. Still, I'm proud. She had previously been dating some guy who I am pretty sure is now in the NHL. Talk about downgrading. It takes me three laps around an ice rink before I can let go of the sides and this has to be done while wearing figure skates, not hockey ones.

My friend claimed ownership over the "head" bartender. I call her the head one because she seemed in charge and I would like her to give me that, head. She was a cute redhead who seemed to smile in the distance for no real reason at all. She'd dance to the music and everything. Only one douche chill moment happened when someone was ignoring her and I saw her roll her eyes. We made brief eye contact and I jumped into gear and said "They're ignoring you!" a little too overeager. She then proceeded to ignore me. The only thing more embarrassing would have been if she had asked me what I said and I had to repeat it again. What could her response have been, "Yes. Yes they are ignoring me. You see things that I see then you say them out loud to strangers. Thank you." So it's for the best that I fucked up, right?

Another bartender called me sweetie. She was pretty good-looking too. I'd even say she was out of my league good-looking. Not that I couldn't get her. She just looks like someone who would be disgusted looking at me in daylight. She was part Spanish I think. Although she wasn't very mean so it's hard to tell. I debated with my friend why she might call me sweetie. He was nice and said maybe she has a thing for me. I was realistic and said she's probably a lot older than we think. I eavesdropped and found out she was 22. So much for my theory. Maybe she was into me. Then he needed a drink and she called him sweetie. Never mind. It's what she calls everyone. I've been called worse.

A live band came on. It took them 45 minutes to warm up. Their guitar player had a grey beard. Their singer still had some baby teeth. This was a sign that they were going to suck. They warmed up with either Are You Gonna Be My Girl? by Jet or Lust for Life by Iggy Pop. It's the same song. Who knows?

Sluts poured into the bar. More and more of them came each passing minute. Then I'd get a glimpse into their world by hearing their conversations and think to myself "Hey, I don't belong here. These people don't think like I do." The band began to play Breakfast at Tiffany's, a song nobody likes or knows who does it. Rob hates live music and we both tried to justify that we only left because of this hatred when really I have a feeling we left because we both knew it was now impossible for a girl to come up and say to either of us "I like your jacket." Yes, we both wore our cool black jackets. Nobody commented on them. But hey, I thought we looked pretty cool. And isn't that what matters?

I dropped him off at home after our night of new experiences. It could have been better, it could have been worse. The moral of the story is that new experiences are never the way you wish they were. They're not bad and you can have fun doing them. I'm sure we'll go back there another time. I mean, the waitstaff alone makes it worth the trip. I look forward to more new experiences this year. You know, like having a threesome or going to bed and waking up the next morning happy.

Miller Light Girls: Originally Posted 1/20/2013

A girl once told me I was weird when I went on a 10 minute rant on why I thought strip clubs were stupid. I won't go into it, but it's because I hate phonies. Strippers are some of the biggest phonies out there. I don't hate them for it. Their job is to pretend the beer bellied businessman man is the man they've always wanted. I can avoid strippers and their lies easy. Sometimes it can be hard to avoid the people one level below the stripper. These people go by the name the Miller Lite Girl.

The Miller Lite Girl in this case is a traditionally attractive female between the ages of 18 and 24. When nepotism is involved they'll go up to 27. They go out to bars and use their flirtatious ways to get lonely older men to buy the product that pays them, Miller Lite. The Miller Lite Girls I'm going to talk about here were sponsored by a radio station based out of Philadelphia, WMMR. It actually doesn't matter where they came from because all Miller Lite Girls are the same, awful.

I was at my usual bar which is not a party bar. It's on the Princeton University Campus which you can figure means the average cliental are elderly professors and dorky Chinese kids. There are also quite a few seminary students. Basically what I'm saying is if you're a guy looking for someone to hook up with you better have an old man fetish.

On this night there were two bimbos in electric blue outfits. It was the same blue the Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders wear. Let's call it Whore Blue actually. I noticed them immediately because even though they were incredibly fake looking they were still by far the most attractive people in the room.

I grabbed a seat with my friend Rob and we noticed them prancing around asking people questions and giving out prizes. I've lived long enough to know girls like this would never sleep with me. I know what you're thinking, who wouldn't have sex with a pretty face like mine? Models, cheerleaders, incredibly attractive meter maids, the Steinert High School graduating class of 2006, any woman with a job; none of them would ever probably let me cozy up next to them. Knowing this fact is comforting. It simply means I can say "fuck it" and whenever a traditionally hot girl acknowledges my existence I set out to prove just how useless beauty can be in this world.

The bimbos actually made a point to try to get over to Rob and me. I saw them through my peripheral vision coming closer. The thing you need to know about slutty girls is they don't have peripheral vision. The only direction they see is into a mirror. They thought I had no idea they were coming. I love dumb girls.

The blonde asked Rob if he was drinking beer. He wasn't and they moved on. I made a point not to even look over when they talked to him. Nobody can say "Hey guys–" and expect me to group myself in with someone else and respond. I am an individual. I will be treated as such!

I heard them behind us saying "Should we ask him?" referring to me. They agreed that they should ask me. They swooped behind us. The brunette said "Are you guys just drinking water?" I explained that I was drinking water but I'm not in charge of what others drink. She asked Rob what he was drinking and he said Vodka even though he has no clue what he was drinking. He's not as irresponsible as that sounds. He's never once accidentally left an oven on and burnt down an apartment building.

The brunette explained how if we decided to drink Miller Lite we could win lots of prizes. I asked about these prizes. They had keychains, mini-footballs, and our favorite, beads. I made a big deal about the beads and acted as if they had me sold. Why would a grown man ever want to own beads that aren't meant for rectal pleasure? I told Rob they had beads in which he responded, "Bees? Don't they sting?" and suddenly our characters had been developed. I was the Unsure Guy and he was the Idiot. I don't think we were too far off from these girl's personalities.

Our conversation lasted way too long. She still thought I might want the beads. She said they would be good for Mardi Gras. I turned to Rob and said "Hey, she knows your buddy Marty Graw." The brunette looked at me blankly as I asked her where she knew Marty Graw from. "Is that a person's name? Is this a joke or something?" I laughed in her face and she laughed too because that's a stupid person's defense.

A Japanese guy named Dan interrupted (yeah, they name their kids Dan now) and he pretended to be interested because he wanted to talk to two hot chicks. An actual guy from WMMR came over and tried to get us to participate in the raffle to win an Under Armor sweater. Rob asked him if he knew WMMR DJ Jacky Bam-Bam. He said he did. I asked him if he was Jacky Bam-Bam. He said he was not. I kept going on how ugly Jacky Bam-Bam is. He didn't deny it. He asked if I was a fan of WMMR and I said "I haven't listened to that station in 5 years." He asked me why and I said they play too much Van Halen. We bonded for a few moments over how much Van Halen sucks.

The radio guy gave us stickers in case we changed our minds on getting beer. I told him and the brunette it was un-American to make me buy beer in order to enter a raffle. I was going to say my parents were killed by drunk drivers and they were part of the problem but didn't get the chance.

The WMMR crew left to bother a few other people. Rob got the idea to order a Bud Light instead and trick them into thinking he got a Miller Lite. They didn't like this joke. The blonde started getting really angry about our nonsense. She asked why he would waste his money on such a crappy beer. He said if he bought a Miller Lite he would have been wasting his money on a crappy beer. The brunette laughed and finally she was getting the joke.

The girls made one last plea to try to get us to purchase their crap beverage. They hyped up the Under Armor sweater that could keep us warm. I asked if the Under Armor was bullet proof and could act as Kevlar. The blonde said "I don't know what that means" which I think she probably says a lot. We also tried to explain how Rob was drinking his drinks in ABC order and he would get to Miller Lite once M came around. The blonde also didn't understand what ABC order was. I think she's still in kindergarten.

I think the Miller Lite Girls came by us one more time. They made fun of us for drinking Bud Light and water. They ordered two waters from the bar. I yelled at them for being hypocritical parasites (not really, but I should have used those words) for judging us and getting water for themselves. The blonde kept saying she felt bad for us, Rob for drinking a bad drink and me for associating with him. I pretended to be on their side and made fun of Rob for being such a loser. They laughed at his expense with their retarded pretty girl laughs. Then I told Rob he was such a loser and I was glad his dad killed himself earlier in the week. Their faces got really serious and we talked a little bit more about Rob's dad's fake suicide. They got their waters, left, and gave out their stupid Under Armor sweater to some asshole who actually thought he could bang them. Men like that annoy me more than the actual Miller Lite Girls.

Newer Experiences: Originally Posted 9/6/2012

Normally my Saturday nights during the summer are spent listening to a baseball game on the radio, working on writing something, and subconsciously hoping a stray bullet lands in my jugular. I had been text messaging with old friends from high school the last few months. All of us lie about how busy our schedules are to make ourselves seem like we're important and hanging out never happened. I put my foot down and agreed on this Saturday in particular I would hang out with at least one of my old friends. Now all I had to do was find an official NASA polo shirt to keep the lie going that I am an astronaut.

The plan was originally for my good friend Rob and me to go over to our old friend Mickey's house. Mickey was the ultimate prankster in high school. Actually prankster seems like too weak a word. Troublemaker, nuisance, annoyance, and sillygoose are more accurate. I think my favorite "prank" we would play was on the campus security guard who was basically a hall monitor with a walkie-talkie. We called him Frankie P. as his name was Franklin Palzone and this was the most obnoxious thing to call him. Each day during study hall we would take a piece of paper, write "Reserved for Frankie P" on the paper, tape it to a chair, then place the chair in the path he always took to the teacher's lounge.

One day he snapped and some Egyptian dweeb ratted us out. We all denied it. Frankie P. thought he scared us good. We took the initiative to find out where he lived. One morning he woke up with the same exact chair from the cafeteria sitting on the front stoop of his home with a "Reserved for Frankie P" sign taped to it. I think his power trip ended after that.

Our plan changed this Saturday night and instead we were invited to the one place I feel most out of my element, a church. It was described to me as a "gathering of 20-something year olds for fun and games." I wasn't sure exactly what to expect. Normally when you put 20-something year olds in a room together a bong and lost dreams appear. Since this would be taking place in a church basement I had assumed the only thing to appear would be Jesus's face in a grilled cheese sandwich.

After some catching up at Mickey's house after not seeing each other for 6 years, we headed out to the church. We got there and were some of the first few to arrive. Most people present I had never seen before. They were good church folk who for some strange reason smoked, cursed, and brought up marijuana way too often. I was introduced to everyone as they came. Two girls touched my hand. One seemed eager to do so. The second seemed like she had to because Jesus would have wanted her to be nice to someone of lesser value. There were also two Indian kids. For a while I thought there was only one Indian kid. I'm not even sure which one of them I had a long conversation with. When each told me their names I said "What?" twice to try to get a clearer understanding. My asking "What?" is limited to twice. After that I pretend I understand.

I was a little worried a Bible might be brought out as this was an event for people from a Bible Study Group. Whenever I'm at a church function I never know how to behave. I believe in the values they teach, I just don't think it's necessary to worship someone else. I want to be a good person because being a good person is the right thing to do. I shouldn't be kind to others because I'm afraid of burning in hell. Anything nice I ever do is never because someone died for my sins. I do it because I want life to be something worth living. Surrounding myself with kindness does not need a commitment to a church or anything at all. I forget where I was going with this, but this is the basis for the doctrine I'm writing for the cult I have decided to start.

The only religion that was brought into the evening was before eating. We were asked to pray. I looked to Rob as neither of us was sure whether or not to fake it. I would never want a girl to fake an orgasm with me. I don't think they would because no girl could ever possibly get pleasure from 15 seconds of my fury. I put my hands together anyway and said my own prayer:

Hey God, this is kind of awkward. It's like we're two old pals who have to work together to do an art project. Uhhh thanks for the food and such. The pizza smells good. I think I'll grab a slice with pineapple on it even though I don't like pineapple much. But I'm trying to do new things and it would fit in with my blog post. Do you read my blog? Of course you do. You're God. You've got all day Sunday to rest and surf the web. I don't know why you'd be listening to me now. You never really listened to me before. But hey, that's alright. Maybe I didn't need that GI Joe fortress I always wanted. Maybe I deserved to grow up hating myself. Maybe asking for happiness for myself and those around me was asking too much. I forgive you. I can do this by myself now. Maybe your plan all along was to teach me to help myself. You know, that was probably it. You're quite a card God. Amen.

The night continued. We ate, we reminisced, we played some games, and I guess we did what people with morals do on a Saturday night. I drank about seven bottles of water and heard someone yell, "What happened to all of the water?" I slowly slid my empty bottles under one of the fat twin's chairs to avoid a fight. Before we knew it four hours had gone by. We had only intended on staying maybe two at the most, but the power of Christ/the brownies compelled us to stay.

We left the church without saying goodbye to anyone. I'm hoping they thought the rapture had begun. I could tell Rob didn't have as good of a night as I did so we dropped him off at his house before going to Mickey's dad's apartment to chill a little bit more. This was a big mistake by Rob. As soon as we got there Nickelodeon star Victoria Justice showed up. She was looking for him. She settled for me because I knew the most facts about his life. When I banged her against an armoire she made me name his relatives, hobbies, and favorite childhood memories. That actually didn't happen. Everybody did things they would never do at a church then I went home with a new experience under my belt, happy I gave it a try.

***

What Religion Do You Practice?

Religion is a topic people avoid bringing up at all costs. It's understandable. People believe in some ridiculous shit and most of this ridiculous shit involves not listening to anyone else's ridiculous shit.

When you do a blog that pushes boundaries and tries getting people to think you cannot avoid religion all together. It's a big issue in politics and one of the biggest killers in history. I do suggest however to not blog about your faith alone. Although a Christian based blog is very niche and can give you lots of followers, it excludes a giant portion of the population. I have through my blog befriended people of all different religious beliefs. Faith is simply that, faith. It's a blind trust you have in something. Avoiding it all together means you don't believe in everything it stands for great enough. So, bring it up sometimes but not too often. You may come to realize your shit is real ridiculous.

Holy Lands: Originally Posted 10/27/2011

"A religion is only as good as its holy land is fertile." - John P. Higgins, Philosopher/Homeless Man

Okay, John P. Higgins is a made up name. I thought the name sounded reputable. John usually makes us think of someone boring. The P in the middle shows that he's scholarly and possibly shares the same name with someone else in his field and he uses it to distinguish between the two. The Higgins part of the name was chosen because it's obscure enough, yet sounds very much like it would belong to a WASP. You'd have to be an idiot to make up a name like that! Wait...

The Philosopher/Homeless Man part was just my way of saying they are no different from each other. Homeless Men really are the greatest modern-day philosophers. They have all day to pontificate and do other things they don't know the meaning of or how to spell. Here are my philosophical thoughts on Holy Lands.

The most famous Holy Lands are in the Middle East. Christianity, Islamic, and Judaism are three of the biggest. There are those other little religions that pop up all over the place. This isn't about those counterculture religious rebels like the Sunnis so forget about them for now.

A lot of these Holy Lands are in that central location because this is where humanity began. Some of the first civilizations were built there and from them came our earliest religions. I'm not an expert on this topic so I will stop trying to name facts. My knowledge of that time period really starts with how the Sumerians invented irrigations and how Fred Flinstone's boss was Mr. Slate. Early history bores me. It's all "well we don't really know, but taking into account blah blah blah." They don't even know how the pyramids were built. Why bother learning about it? All they can say is "here are some giant stone buildings with a point at the top. We don't really know the purpose of them or how they were built but here they are" then gaze at the students awkwardly.

The problem with having so many Holy Lands in the same space is that it causes a lot of problems. So many of the wars that go on in the Middle East is over territory for ownership of the property where something may or may not have happened. I don't know why you need to stick a flag pole wherever it was that your deity died at. Isn't your God so much bigger than one town? Isn't he with you always? Does he not control the universe? And once you get that land, what do you do with it? Open up a theme park? Lots of people died for ownership of the Holy Land in the Middle East. There were about a dozen Crusades or something. All of those knights on the European side and all of the Muslims on the defensive side died because they thought two different versions of the same story happened on the same fucking blades of grass. It's insane! I used to think knights were so awesome. Then I found out all they were doing was slaughtering other human beings for a fucking mug Jesus drank from. Fuck you and your Holy Grail Lancelot. No wonder you shits had to make up dragons to seem more daring.

The Holy Lands of the Middle East are by far the most violent. It's because the biggest and most influential religions claim ownership of that territory. Then there are a few more Holy Lands that are a lot less appealing. Take the Amish for instance. Their Holy Land is in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. Nobody wants to take over this landmass. You have to take a Septa train to get there and they're always on strike anyway. I applaud the Amish for choosing such an uninteresting location to call home. They never have to fear an invasion from an enemy religion. It'd be so easy to take over too. The Jews should just give up on defending Israel from their surrounding enemies and make their location to Lancaster. Once night hits, the Amish are left in the dark, defenseless, and fucked.

Mormons are the other silly religion whose Holy Land lies in America. They call their home in a big useless state named Utah. It's where D.B. Cooper buried his money, according to Prison Break. This was another great choice of a location to set up. Utah is too far away from California for anyone to even notice it exists. They have one giant lake in it, but it's filled with salt. What a lousy state. Their capital is named after this crap lake. That's when you know nobody great has ever been born there, when you name your capital after a giant undrinkable mass of water. The only thing worse would be if it was filled with Seltzer. Ugh I hate Seltzer.

Finally there are the rest of the religions around the world. Taoism, Buddhism, Confucianism, Hinduism, all of them. They don't get a bad reputation for being violent because nobody else wants their Holy Land. If all of a sudden all the Cajuns who believe in Voodoo discover that their origins lay in Beijing shit is going to get violent. It's not fair to judge a religion on how violent it is. They're all violent really. You may think Buddhists are peaceful, but wait until their land gets taken from them. We'll see how passive those bald hippies really are.

Defending Religions: Originally Posted 11/20/2012

By no means am I a religious man. When I was a younger boy I saw a picture of Jesus and thought it was Al Pacino as Serpico in disguise. Most of my religious knowledge comes from The Simpsons, South Park, and a few other parodies. I've never had much use for religion in my life. I believe there to be a deep seeded evil in me that prevents it. Despite not being holy I feel the need to defend religion from an apathetic viewpoint.

Atheists get a bad reputation because many are so strongly against religion of any sort. They're so against it they say you're an idiot if you believe in anything having to do with religion. Why though does it matter what other people believe? These are the same people who go around yelling at a person when they find out the guy doesn't like Die Hard. What does it matter if someone doesn't have the same viewpoint as you? Isn't forcing your atheist belief system onto a religious person just as bad as a religious person forcing their outdated belief system on you?

The big thing is a lot of people who are so anti-religion are very pro everything else. Anti-religious or members believing in antidisestablishmentarianism (I had to throw that in) tend to be very what they call "liberal." Liberal to me means open-minded to everything, easy going, and probably a drug user. I'm not liberal at all. I'm very close minded because I have lived long enough to know some stereotypes are true, some people are assholes, and Keith Richards is the only guy to ever benefit from drug use and I don't have near his musical talent to even try following in his footsteps. Liberal has become a word meant to represent "I vote Democrat." Somehow the word Prickface has come to represent "I vote Republican." I don't support either party because I agree with things from both sides. I honestly think at this point the Republicans would do a better job for America but the Democrats will do more to help me personally. I don't really care about how America does. I care about myself because in the end I'm all I've got. Enough about politics though. Let me go back to the less controversial topic, religion.

It doesn't bug me when people mock religion, I'll do it myself. What bugs me is when someone mocks religion and can't take similar mocking about something they believe in. If you make fun of someone's religion you better be prepared to get made fun of for your race, sexual orientation, or handicap. Some may say race, sexual orientation, and handicap are not choices therefore off-limits. But is religion really a choice? I don't think anyone would choose religion. That's not how it works. It's the same way you don't choose who you're attracted to. If it were up to me I would be attracted to houseplants because they'd never turn me down and they can't scream. There are certain things in a person's life and in their belief system that isn't even up to them. Call it fate, destiny, whatever you want. If you want to pull a knife on someone based on their religion be prepared to get a nuke dropped on you for anything.

I doubt religion will ever become a big part of my life. Who knows? Maybe I'll see a Jesus face in a sandwich one day and I'll take it as I should stop cursing then I'll join the cloth. I have bad eyesight so I'll probably never notice the Jesus face and I'd end up eating a miracle. And although religion isn't for me it does do a lot of great things. It brings communities together, helps those with addiction, and it gives back more than it takes. Sure, some churches and religions are utterly evil in some way but I think it's worth it to have some around that actually help out. You wouldn't (well you might) blow up the entire Middle East just because there are a lot of terrorists there would you? With some bad there is also always some good.

Religious Brackets: Originally Posted 8/24/2011

Most religions are stupid. We can all agree on that. In fact when you think about it, you should really think every religion is stupid except for your own. If you don't think this way you'll probably end up in hell. That's fact. Being a Muslim and thinking that maybe Mormonism has its perks really is denying a part of where you stand on religion. Don't do it. Follow your religion 100% or don't follow it at all. Or start a cult. I don't care. Just don't use religion only when it's convenient. It's not like being nice to women which you can pick and choose.

People love brackets. The most popular is the March Madness one where people bet which group of black teenagers will beat another group of black teenagers. People put money on these games of chance. They spend hours crunching numbers and trying to find a loophole while their dogs go unfed and their children's clothes go unwashed. This is sports in America.

I've created a bracket like system of different religions and placed them each in a seed. This of course, based from the perspective of a white guy living in the United States of America. I might be biased for that fact so if you're reading this on the Estonian Internet you may disagree with me. If you are reading this on the Estonian Internet you probably have a rock instead of a mouse and your version of a laptop is a desktop computer placed on your lap. Estonia outlawed tables in the 1950s. It had something to do with being too "Western."

Round 1:

1. Born-Agains vs. Catholics

2. Muslims vs. Buddhists

3. Episcopalians vs. Wiccans

4. Mormons vs. Hebrews

5. People Who Worship the Sun vs. Atheists

6. Quakers vs. Protestants

7. Amish vs. Orthodox Jews

8. Lutherans vs. Voodoo

Results:

1. Catholics beat Born-Agains, why? Catholics have a lot of bad shit with them. Their priests molest children, their nuns hit kids with rulers, and their leader wears a silly hat. Still, they are much better than Born-Agains who think taking a bath in a lake can change a person. Lakes don't clean away your sins. Years of living a good life and giving back might.

2. Muslims beat Buddhists, why? Buddhism is all about suffering yet they never hurt anyone. What kind of bull is this? Quit complaining and do something. Your leader, the Llama, is named after an animal that spits on people at zoos. I know Muslims aren't that great either, but I don't see them lasting through the next round and I'll save my bashing for then.

3. Episcopalians beat Wiccans, why? Both of these groups allow just about anyone into them. The difference, Wiccans are mostly fat bisexual teenage girls. I'm sorry, that doesn't make you a religion. That makes you a My Chemical Romance concert.

4. Hebrews beat Mormons, why? It's a simple matter of territory. The Hebrews are all over the place. They have great positions of power and yet they still want one tiny little part of an outer bank. They die for that territory. Then there are the Mormons. Their holy land is in Utah, where the Jazz play. It's hard to take a religion seriously when there are billboards of a man nicknamed "The Mailman" all over. I know the whole five wives thing is cool in theory, but think about the menstrual cycles overlapping.

5. People Who Worship the Sun beat Atheists, why? Atheists don't have anything to worship, acknowledge, or claim their own. It's really rather sad when you think about it. People Who Worship the Sun have an entire gigantic ball of fire. If we did this Rock, Paper, Scissor style then giant ball of fire beats nothing. It consumes it whole. Enjoy your victory you savages.

6. Protestants beat Quakers, why? Richard Nixon was a Quaker. More importantly than that, the price of oatmeal has dramatically risen by $1.50 in the last few years. What the fuck? Even if Protestants are always picketing and calling others scabs they have to win this.

7. Amish beat Orthodox Jews, why? This is basically a battle of Flea markets versus dry cleaners. I don't know about you, but I can clean my own damn clothes.

8. Voodoo beats Lutherans, why? I don't know much about Lutherans to be honest with you. When I was younger, a Lutheran told me that all Protestants did was kiss hands of men. He lied to me and called me fat. And Voodoo has the whole doll and pin prick thing. Pretty cool.

Round 2:

1. Catholics vs. Muslims

2. Episcopalians vs. Hebrews

3. People Who Worship the Sun vs. Protestants

4. Amish vs. Voodoo

Results:

1. Muslims beat Catholics, why? You've never heard of someone getting beaten at Muslim school. Do they even go to school? I know they wear things on their heads. What happens when it rains? Are they waterproof? The fact that the Muslims were able to defend against multiple Crusades shows you how tough those sons of bitches really are. They beat King Arthur! He had Excalibur, the sword not the car. He also had Merlin, the Wizard not the cleaning product.

2. Hebrews beat Episcopalians, why? It basically comes down to lettering. Hebrew can even be shortened to simply Jew. Yes, it's okay to call someone a Jew. It's just how you say the word that matters, I'm told. Episcopalian doesn't even make sense. It reminds me too much of Sara Palin taking a piss. I'm sorry to say, but Hebrews make the Final Four.

3. People Who Worship the Sun beat Protestants, why? Protestants have a negative attitude. The whole religion was based off of being an angry union member or something like that. I'm not even sure if I've ever met a real Protestant. I've met People Who Worship the Sun. I'm sure you have too. Anybody who has gone tanning more than once a week falls into that category. Are you one of them? Probably not. Those people tend to not read.

4. Amish beat Voodoo, why? You can sell a Voodoo doll at an Amish market but you can't make a Voodoo doll out of an Amish market. I guess you actually could. That'd be a bad gift to get a kid. And that's exactly why that was the result of this match up.

Round 3:

1. Muslims vs. Hebrews

2. People Who Worship the Sun vs. Amish

Results:

1. Hebrews beat Muslims, why? This is really the final battle to end all battles. These two hate each other more than anything. I'd make an original simile here, but they've all been taken. As annoying as Hebrews can be, they don't really do anything too awful. They usually get picked on and bullied. Muslims are always blowing up people and never busy drawing their own prophet. They can't draw a picture of their own God! What are their holiday specials on television like? Is it just a white picture with a voiceover? It's probably similar to that old snowman cartoon that's just music. You know, the one with the redheaded kid dancing with the snowman. I expect the Muslim one has more explosions in public places.

2. Amish beat People Who Worship the Sun, why? People Who Worship the Sun have nothing to offer humankind. They spend all day bowing to the sun, amazed at how bright it is. They do help the economy in the sunglasses department, but other than that they're pretty useless. Amish have Rumspringa where they let their kids go off and do drugs for a while and let them decide if they still want to be Amish. No other religion allows that openness. It's kind of refreshing unlike most of the food they make.

Round 4: The Final Round!

1. Hebrews vs. Amish

Results:

1. Tie. Yeah, I'm making this is a draw. They're the same exact thing. It's bullshit. All of it. Both of them wear funny hats, they have long beards, and they yell at you if you try to bargain them down. It's the same crap, different name. Really, all religion is that way. We're all wrong. Why would God come down and influence one part of the world and not another? Does he not like Japanese people? Are the Swedish more important to the ultimate meaning in life?

My message with this was simple. Brackets can be fun no matter what they're about.

***

What Do You Look for in a Mate?

Almost everybody fucks. You'll encounter very few people in life who have no desire to or never get the chance. When you fuck someone you usually do it with someone you're sexually attracted to. Sometimes the readers of your blogger will get curious if they have a chance with you. They'll want to know what type of people you like to bang.

For the most part we all want the same thing from a mate. We want someone who makes us feel comfortable and is willing to be their tongue anywhere we want them to. In order to be original though, you need to be specific. You need to let your readers know if they have a chance with you or not. You need to let them know what you like and dislike in a mate.

Turn-Offs: Originally Posted: 12/6/2012

It's hard for me to say exactly what it is I find sexiest about a woman. It can vary from person to person. Physically I would say legs are my favorite. Oddly legs are also my favorite part of the chicken, mostly because drumsticks are fun to eat. I used to have this problem where whenever I would think about a woman with sexy legs I would sneeze. This problem was half my lifetime ago so feel free to send me pictures of your legs now without fear of snot flying onto your knees.

I think I like legs on a woman because it's not overly sexual but it can be if she uses them properly. There's also the mystery about what's at the top of the legs. Trust me, it's not always what you expect. I could go on forever about the amazing things women can do to turn me on which would probably turn into some vampire erotica so I won't. Instead I will cover things women should avoid doing in order to win my heart, my body, and my wallet. From what I have learned so far in life, women care about those things in reverse order.

1) Smoking - Any kind of smoking a woman does is a huge turn-off for me and for many reasons. The first is smoking costs a lot of money. Cigarettes, pot, and crack are expensive. Not to mention you need to buy a lighter and a few other accessories. Women ask for money a lot too and if I say something like "Maybe you should quit smoking" I end up having to sleep on the couch in my apartment while she lies in my bed. I have never seen a woman with a cigarette in her mouth and thought about kissing her. Don't they make your teeth yellow too? I hate the excuse that smoking helps you relax too. If you need to give yourself cancer in order to relax you already are a drama queen.

2) Never Smile - Girls should smile non-stop. If I was president I would have women slaughtered if they weren't smiling. I hate when a girl, no matter how much she hates me, no matter how much I creep her out, refuses to smile at me. Be nice, say hello, and act as if I'm retarded if you must but flash me a gorgeous smile or else I'll assume you're a cold bitch and will fantasize about lighting you on fire.

3) Doesn't Take Care of Herself - No, I'm not saying girls who don't masturbate turn me off although I will tell them they're missing out on some fun alone time activities. I'm referring more about girls who don't at least try to look presentable. You don't have to be perfect, in fact I don't want a girl to be perfect. I want a girl who's a little too thick in some places but you can tell she works hard at being the best she can. Ideally men want girls with some meat on them so stop blaming us and the media for saying "thin is in" because most guys like big breasts, a thick ass, and thunder thighs. Make sure though that your thighs don't extend below the knee or under your arms though. That's called being obese.

4) Bad Grammar - Whether it's speaking or writing, if a girl spells more than the average word wrong I cannot deal with her. Girls have to understand there's this thing called spell check and it should be used when unsure. I also want to go asexual every time I see a "GuRl TyPe LyKe ThIs." Although it's a consistent pattern, it's not cute. It reminds me of Captcha and I have never gotten a Captcha correct on the first try.

5) Drinking - I don't mind if a girl drinks. What I do mind is a girl always drinking around me. Am I that boring where you need to invite your ex-boyfriend Jack Daniels over? I think I could only ever tolerate being around a drunk girl on Friday or a Saturday night, possibly one weeknight too but on rare occasions. Drunk girls not lying on their backs naked in a bed are the most annoying things on the planet. This comes from a guy who currently has a cricket stuck in his ear.

6) Troublemaker - There are certain ways to spot a girl who is a troublemaker. Troublemaking girls have these qualities: tattoos, piercings, enjoy the Fast & Furious films, can convince you their addictions are not addictions, colorful hair, many male friends, know where to buy fireworks, and have pushed me out-of-the-way to buy cigarettes. They don't need all these qualities of course to be a troublemaker. I warn you however, when several are present she's probably a bad seed.

7) Overly Dependent / Not Dependent Enough - I'm a guy so I like when a girl dependents on me for survival. I couldn't tell you how many times I've had to kill animals with my bare hands to feed a hungry girl. Still, I don't like that dependence to get to an insane level. The happy medium should be an independent woman who can take care of herself but at times needs help. All things in moderation. Didn't Julius Caesar say that? I think he tried saying it again while he was getting stabbed. A moderate amount of knife wounds and he may have survived.

Pimple Scars: Originally Posted 11/10/2011

I don't have pimple scars. Not a single one. Check my body. I'll get completely naked and you can look. I'm willing to take the test under any circumstances. That's more than a single psychic will promise. If you find a single pimple scar on my body than every psychic in the world was right about you having a guardian angel and that you'll grow up to marry a guy named Ted who sells maps.

Someone reading this has pimple scars. Maybe they even have one, two, or three-thousand of them. That's usually how people scars come. For that person reading this, the one who has been called pizza face, tartar sauce nose, and freak, this is for you. I might be going out on a limb here and you may not fully understand it, but pimple scars can be sexy.

My first crush was a girl with pimple scars. I know that's not true, but that's how I remember her looking. We were in kindergarten, meaning she couldn't possibly have had awful enough skin to have pimple scars. It was a New Jersey elementary school so I guess anything is possible. I did once see a kid at a urinal with a foot for a hand.

I've only ever kissed one girl with a face full of pimple scars. It was on the cheek and was like kissing the moon. Frank Sinatra started playing in my head. It was magical to lay my lips on those bumps. Despite having a face filled with pimple scars, I found her very attractive. I mean sweepingly sexy. I would have kissed each of those face craters if it meant I could see her again. Actually no. She didn't speak good English. But still, she was hot and had a lot of pimple scars. Maybe she was an exception, but I continue to be obsessed with pimple scar girls.

Not everyone with pimple scars is hot. They can't be those blistering red ones. Ugh. Those are terrible. I don't need your face matching the pizza sauce I give you for lunch. Perfect pimple scars belong on more ethnic people. Brown skin is the ideal. Some Italian girls can get away with it, some black ones too. White people cannot. Pimples on white girls usually flame up. They look like mosquito bites more than anything. It's like a face full of nipples. I love nipples just as much as the next guy, but there's a limit to how many should be on a girl. I think I'd draw the line at three. I only have one mouth and two hands. Maybe if two of the red white girl pimples were really close I could handle another.

The best place for pimple scars to look good is the side of the face, a little out-of-the-way. They should be somewhere that if I did grow to become embarrassed of your face that I could force you to lengthen your hair or put on a flimsy wig to cover it up. The side of the cheek, maybe right over the carotid artery could work. I hope I spelt that correctly. It's that place on your neck vampires bite and killer ninjas stab. In National Lampoon's European Vacation, the man on the bike shoots blood out of that spot. Okay, if you don't know what I mean now you never will.

It's tough growing up thinking you're different and have some kind of a flaw that cannot be cured. But if I have taught you anything, it's that there is someone out there who likes everything. Other people have told me they like or don't mind pimple scars. That shows a lot of hope out there for you hair lipped clods and Cyclops. Don't put yourself down for something as silly as a pimple scar. Worst case scenario, tell them you were mangled in a car accident or fought in Desert Storm. I won't think you're a freak. I'll think of you as a hero.

***

What Makes You Sad?

Sometimes even on a primarily humor blog it's important you get a little more serious. Nobody has one single emotion that defines them and this should show in anything you write.

What makes me sad can vary. I'd say the biggest is the feeling of helplessness in a bad situation. I'm not a control freak as much as I know nobody else can do it right. When important things are out of my control I can get sad. From this sadness comes my sense of humor. If you can't laugh or take away something positive from those terrible moments in life then what's the point in all the suffering?

Instincts 10/20/2012

This tale took place when I had either just started driving or only had my learner's permit. This is important to the story. Like in Breaking Bad when Ted slightly trips over the rug, it comes back to be very relevant. It was summer and I know this because I was home. Not that I was normally out during the other seasons but it was still light out and I had nowhere else to be.

Ever since I can remember my mom was always in and out of hospitals. It was always either because of kidney stones or depression. No matter how many therapist or psychiatrists she saw, no matter how many different medications she was on, no matter what strange treatment she underwent, she never got better. I was introduced to those daily pill boxes by her and would know what day of the week it was based on where the pills were. She had a gigantic flowered bag where she kept all her pills and I blame this on my hatred for flowered patterns. At this point I'd rather look at an x-ray of my brain and see a tumor than have to see another flower pattern ever again.

I always associate the saddest moment in my life with visiting my mom on Easter Sunday at the hospital then getting in the car and my older sister playing Mad World, the most depressing song ever. I was probably 14 or 15 at the time and had my own things to be depressed about. Visiting your mother in what was basically a mental institution on the holiest of Christian holidays added to it.

I always knew sometimes when my mom would take her pills she would act loopy. On this particular day she seemed a little extra strange. She came upstairs from the room she spent most of her time in (the room formerly known as the messy room even though it was still quite messy) saying she wanted Rita's Water Ice. My mom loved Rita's Water Ice so this wasn't strange. It was how she said it. The way she looked at me let me know something was a little off.

I didn't want any Rita's because ice cream is better. Still though, my instincts started to tell me something. I can't even describe the feeling because it was so long ago and I've never had the feeling before. My Spidey sense was tingling and I told my mom I wanted to go for the ride with her. Rita's wasn't very far away so it wouldn't take too long.

We hopped into my mom's van and she began driving down the street very emotionless. She began swerving slightly back and forth at each house we passed. It was when she almost drove into someone's driveway instead of making a right turn that I told her to stop and pull over. She wasn't sure why but I made her get out and switch seats with me. If she wanted Rita's so badly I would have to drive her there.

To Rita's we went and by this time I was just annoyed with her. I didn't want to help her get her frozen treat, partly because I was in a bad mood and partly because I wanted to see if she could actually do it in the state she was in. She managed to get exactly what she wanted, whatever flavored Gelato that was. I tried asking her what was wrong and she never really had an answer. She felt fine.

It wasn't long after this happened when my mom checked herself into AA or alcohol rehab. I'm not sure which programs she was in or when, I lost count. Everyone I've told about this made it seem like it was no big deal. It's as if she didn't have a problem. I would guess the mix between her pills and the alcohol is what made her behavior so strange but I'm not a doctor, just someone who goes with this most basic of instincts.

A few years after this happened my mom called me up and told me how proud she was that I didn't drink and that I wasn't fat anymore. Not exactly my life intentions on making my parents proud but I'll take it. This is a big reason why I don't drink and watch what I eat. It's not so much about making her proud as it is something I should be proud of myself. It makes mistakes she made with her decision not for nothing.

I like to think this was some magical thing I did to save a life that was clearly in danger. I don't know what to make of it. Chances are she wouldn't have died because it was such a short easy drive but who knows? It's at least good to know when someone I care about is in danger that I can see it immediately. My mom lived about 7 more years after this and although they weren't her happiest years they were still years that she may not have had if I wasn't able to know who my mother really was.

Tragedies: Originally Posted 7/21/2012

I apologize immediately for at any time I sound like a know-it-all during the next passage. Feel free to knock me off my high horse or ignore it if I do so. I thought today I should write about a serious topic, the shooting in Aurora, Colorado. I almost feel as if I qualify as someone whose "voice" matters on this issue. See, I'm already on my high horse. I have my swivel chair lowered as much as possible to hopefully make me feel like a smaller person while I write this. I also have incredibly short shins and longer thighs so this is how I normally sit.

I feel qualified to make a diagnosis on this story because like the gunman I am a 24-year-old white American whose life did not turn out the way that 1) I thought it would 2) I was told it would or 3) I fantasized it might. The expectations I was told growing up were I would go to school, get good grades, have a lot of girls who liked me, I would excel in at least one sport, I would go off to college, I would be popular, I would get out and get the job I always wanted, and I would settle down with a wife in a cozy little town then die miserable. The misery wasn't supposed to happen until around 40. This is what I was told and thought to believe. I think no matter what demographic or generation you come from you believe this at a young age. It's around the time you're 24 you realize if Santa can't be real, neither can anything else you have ever believed.

Life as we know it doesn't turn out the way we wanted or thought it would. Even scarier is we don't turn out the way we thought we would. Each time I hear about these gunmen I always see a lot of myself in them. I remember one even looked a bit like me. I'm not sure what separates us. Maybe if I was raised in a place where having guns was the norm I too would have ended up like them. To go from shooting a clown once with a paintball gun to owning automatic weapons seems like a huge leap for me. I don't think guns are to blame for this tragedy. Access to them is what the real problem is.

I don't know any real solution to the gun control problem. We can't take them away because then the criminals will be the only ones on the street with them or so a Conservative person told me. For every psycho out there massacring others there are hundreds of gun owners who wouldn't dream of doing it. You can't take away something because one person ruined it. If someone drives their car through a crowded mall and kills people, you don't take away cars or even shut down malls for that matter. It's almost like the whole "if we don't do this then the terrorists win" motto. If you stop doing something because the fear you have inside then we really have lost.

Immediately after something like this happens, the media begins to blame violence in movies, television, and video games. To say these have no violent influence is asinine. Of course it does. It influences murderers into what to do. It gives them a vision into what it will look like. At the same time this is not the why. They don't do it because they see the violence. They do it because of the state of their lives. Nobody watches a violent movie then thinks they're going to imitate it in real life. Somebody will want to kill. They begin to plan it out. Then they see a violent movie and try to mimic that. I heard (which means who knows if it's true or not) that there was a Batman comic from the 1980s where a masked man enters a movie theater and does what this gunman did. To say this is the only reason why he did it is so wrong. He would have done something like this anyway. If Magic Mike was based on a comic book I'm sure the gunman would have done it in Auditorium 8 instead of Auditorium 5. People like this are ticking time bombs. The way I believe to solve it is to change their life.

Who do I blame for what happened? That is a hard question to answer. You have to blame someone or something, right? The list is endless really. The things that made him do the things he did were very complex. As much as I think I can understand them, I probably won't. The guy has been described as a brilliant science student who could not get a job after college. What does that say about me? Really, I wonder if I had done something like this would they describe me as "idiot blogger gone berserk." The guy was described as a loner. Loneliness is the darkest cancer in life. The first episode of The Twilight Zone was about being alone. It's such an important thing for us all to have others in our life. What I really blame is the lack of community around us. The world is so big and wide. No longer do we have an entire village depending on us and caring about us. When nobody needs you then why bother trying?

The gunman came from an affluent home. The article I read repeated it over and over again. No doubt this guy had a "cozier" life than many of us. I don't see why that matters. If he was a poor black kid would we have expected this behavior? Would we be able to understand it more? I don't think so. What bothers me most is he went into a movie theater during a film about a comic book. There were people in the theater who felt the same way about life as him. He probably killed someone who felt similar pain. What happened was the gunman gave up hope. It's sick but when you're a 24-year-old male you feel like if you haven't accomplished anything yet you never will.

The only way to potentially keep tragedies like this from happening again is to be open. It doesn't matter to whom, but have as many people as you can to tell everything about your life to. Unfortunately many people don't have this or don't know how to obtain it. I know I have trouble meeting new people. Between fears of rejection, not being good enough, or being hurt in any other way you can easily convince yourself being alone is okay. It's not. And if you are alone it's not the end. Most people are. Most people aren't out there thinking "Boy do I hope he doesn't talk to me. I have way too many friends already." People are scared to open up because they know everything that's wrong with them. How could anyone love someone as flawed as they are?

I can guarantee things like this will happen multiple times again. Life can be tragic. Going forward I think it's most important to let other people, especially those with nobody, know they are not alone. They may not have a girlfriend, they may not have much family, they may not have many friends, and they might never say a word to anybody ever. These are the people who need to be smiled at most. Reach out and ask them a simple question about what's going on in their lives. When they become timid don't give up. People like that [me] are shocked to know anyone even notices them [us] sometimes.

***

What's Your Favorite Holiday?

Everyone who isn't a Jehovah Witness celebrates holidays. It can be a good go to blog topic whenever these special dates come around. It's important with a blog to be relatable. You need your readers at the very least to think you might possibly be them from the future. This way they are more likely to send you money.

As far as what you talk about when it comes to the holidays anything goes. You can talk about what you did, what you've done, why you hate it, or even just overanalyze the meaning behind the special day. Blogging is guerilla writing. Anything goes.

Birthday Depressions: Originally Posted 10/9/2012

When a person is young their birthday is the greatest thing on the planet. To a kid a birthday is better than sex! Probably because most sex involving children happens against their will and ends with threats against their parents if the kid ever says anything about it. The older we get though the more we grow to hate our birthdays. We get terribly depressed about it. Since today is my birthday and I'm not really all that depressed for some reason (I'm high on pain killers and starved myself yesterday so I have an excuse to get something unhealthy tonight for dinner) I have decided to take a levelheaded and sane approach at finding out why so many of us get sad on what used to be our special day.

The first reason why we get depressed is obvious, it's our party and we can cry if we want to. There was even a song about it. They played it in Problem Child when the bratty ballerina girl stomped around while the bad Ginger kid caused trouble. On your birthday you can get away with anything, especially gaining pity. People say things like "I'm 21--again!" and then we can laugh at them because they're not really 21. They're way older than that. Look at those crow's feet. Look at those wrinkles. Look at that receding hairline. You're not 21. You're a broken shell of the person you used to be.

Another reason why we ask for nooses on our big day is because we know we're closer to death anyway and we know it's better to give ourselves the satisfaction of choosing when we leave this world. With each passing year we come closer to getting thrown into the ground, burnt up in an oven, or eaten by farm animals. I have it in my Living Will that I would like to be fed to farm animals. Nobody knows where my Living Will is either. I swallowed a map two years ago and upon my death I have instructed my attorney to contact the 7 people I have selected to cut me up and work together using the map to find my Living Will. I'm hoping there's a lot of fighting and backstabbing and this turns into a real blood bath.

I don't really fear death anymore. I'm kind of ready to die. I don't want to but if I were to wake up with the Grim Reaper standing over me I wouldn't embarrass myself by kicking and screaming as he drags me to hell. I'm sure once I turn 40 I'll start fearing death again. In the afterlife you're forever in the state you were in when you died. Staying forever 25 sounds a lot better than staying forever 60. Even 60 years olds don't like other 60 year olds.

Personally the biggest reason for hating my own birthdays when I do is because I hate getting fussed over for a day all because the sun is in the same location from the earth as it was when I was yanked headfirst from a vagina. Why can't people be nice to me every day like this? Or at the very least, why can't everyone continue to be horrible toward me on my birthday as well? If I have 100 people (I should probably knock off a few 0's to be more accurate) in my life who know me and don't completely hate me I would rather they spread out their love and affection over the course of a year rather than pour it all on in one day. I like consistency. If a different person was nice to me every 3 or 4 days I would be a much happier person. And do most people who say "Happy Birthday" to me really care if I have a happy day or not? Nah. They don't. But it's fine. When I sneeze they really don't care if I'm blessed. They're just afraid of a demon crawling up my nose then having to run away from me when I desire their flesh.

The final reason why I think people get the birthday depression bug is because a birthday signifies another milestone. It's the same thing with New Year's Eve Suicides, the most festive of snuffing yourself days. On your birthday you have a chance to look back and see what you did or did not accomplish in the last year. Most people suck and don't really do much with their lives other than win Week 4 in Fantasy Football. Looking back at what they may have accomplished usually is depressing because they haven't accomplished much. This happens to me too some years but there's an easy solution, accomplish something! If you actually make sure you're always trying your hardest at whatever it is you want in life then without a doubt you will be able to look back on your birthday at the last year and realize it wasn't a complete waste.

Now to spend the rest of my big day crying and trying to measure out how much Drano a man can drink to get him sick enough where people pay attention to him but not sick enough where he'll die.

Holidays & Suicidal Tendencies: Originally Posted 12/14/2011

Christmas, it's the most wonderful time of year. I know it's not specifically Christmas. Chanukah is also part of the most wonderful time of year. I don't consider Chanukah very wonderful though. It's a celebration of not running out of oil for 8 days. My car can only last about 5 before I have to fill up my tank. If my car got better gas mileage maybe I would understand Chanukah a little bit more. And why am I spelling it Chanukah? I'm used to Hanukkah. I don't get it. Why two spellings? I'm sure it has something to do with translations, but why not make up your mind? Oye Vey! I hate indecisiveness.

This is the first holiday season that I'm feeling terrible about it. I never used to get those jokes about Christmas Suicides. I always thought it was funny because who would ever kill themselves on Christmas? It's such a happy day. You get presents and time with your family. The older I get, the lonelier I get. The lonelier I get, the less people I have in my life. The less people I have in my life, the angrier I become. Skip forward a few more cause and effects and we got to the point of feeling the holiday blues. I totally get this now.

Most holidays I feel pretty bummed out. They're not the same as they used to be when I was younger. Now they feel forced. Almost as if the family is trying to recapture the wonderful moments of ignorance we had when there were children involved. It's killing me inside to continue to pretend that I believe in Santa. But I'm doing it for the family. I want to keep this magic going. The second I admit I know the truth they'll make me bathe myself. I have short arms. There's no way I can cover washing every inch of my body with these things.

It's not necessarily the holidays in general that I think bum people out. December is pretty gloomy itself. It's dark by 4:30 and starts to become cold. This would make anyone with a heart depressed. Being alone on the holidays is something that I know I will have to endure at some point in my life. It's slightly scary but I know that I'm not alone in having to do so. We all have to spend some important holidays alone, unless you're a Siamese twin. I'll bet that a Siamese twin never reads this. When I say Siamese twin, I mean both their legs have to hit the ground. I don't count the ones with someone attached to their forehead as Siamese twins. As comedian Doug Stanhope said, they're people with midgets attached to them. I'm sure you know the TLC whore I'm talking about. You're probably more confused as to what a TLC whore is. It's someone who is on the channel TLC way too much. Usually they're freaks.

My holiday woes are simple this year. I have to be in too many places at one time. Don't tell me to go out and rent "Four Christmases" so I can have something to relate to. Reese Witherspoon hasn't been cute in years and Vince Vaughn hasn't been funny in centuries. There isn't an extensive travel list that I have to go through. It's just that I have to travel at all that bothers me. Christmases past I wouldn't have to go anywhere. I liked those years. I would go into the front yard and play catch with my dad with my new football. Or if I didn't get a football we'd play catch with one of my sister's gifts not caring if we dropped it. This year I'll be at every corner of New Jersey over the weekend. I'll be traveling 500 miles total in 3 days. I know, I thought New Jersey was pretty small too. I could probably get to the Carolinas for that mileage. I don't know what I'd do there. Visit Raleigh? Get away with a hate crime?

The more I think about it there are Christmas images that beg us to all kill ourselves. Wreathes look like green nooses. Angels are everywhere and that's what we turn into when we die. Look how cute most of those angels are. I want to be one of them. Then there's that whole random Jesus aspect thrown into Christmas. I don't get it either. Jesus is such a deathly image. He's always on a cross looking like he's in agony. We used to have one of those hanging above our house phone in my childhood home. Then we found out we were the only family in the world that still used a landline so we threw it in the garbage disposal. I'm kidding. It was the trash. No way in hell would we have a landline but be able to afford a garbage disposal.

I've never known anyone to kill themselves around Christmas. Most suicides I know happen around Thanksgiving. I never got that. It's like killing yourself on a Monday. There's still time. There's still hope. Tuesday and Wednesday are the perfect days to kill yourself. All hope of having a good week might be gone and you're too far away from a fresh start. If I ever killed myself it would be on a Tuesday at midnight. That's called suicidal compromise. I would not do it around Thanksgiving either. Thanksgiving makes me hopeful of having a good Christmas. I already know this year will be pretty lame (how can it not be lousy with that attitude?) but that's okay. Whether or not my Christmas is good or if I go into it with a negative attitude, it'll happen.

All over the world children will be eager and wake up early. I'll probably rise around 10 in the morning and won't talk to anyone until noon, maybe a neighbor at the most. And what would I even say to them? "Merry Christmas I don't know you." That's exactly what I will say. Christmas has no boundaries when it comes to wishing someone to have a merry one. You don't have to know a person to wish them one. Maybe that's what it's all about, connecting with others, making someone feel special, and smiling for no reason other than the fact that you have something in this world.

I wrote this hoping to complain about how much I am not excited about Christmas this year. Instead I found its true meaning, not worrying about how it will turn out. It's still Christmas whether it's a good day or not. That's what's important. That it happens. Good, bad, or neutral. Christmas is coming. Don't kill yourself until after it sucks.

"Merry Christmas to all and to all a good fight!" - What Michael Buffer should say if there's ever a big Christmas boxing match

Hess Trucks: Originally Posted 12/5/2011

It's Holiday Season. Do you know what that means? If the title didn't already give it away, it's Hess Truck season. Hooray! This is the greatest toy ever, a truck that delivers gasoline. Truly this is a collectible that will be worth thousands in the future.

I remember when I was a younger and less hairy boy every December had a television flooded with commercials for the latest edition of the Hess Truck. For those of you not familiar with what Hess might be, it's a gas station. That's it. You go there and fill up your car with petroleum. I don't fill up my car. I live in New Jersey and we have Arabs who do it for us. They usually call me "buddy" or "boss" which makes me feel important. That must be such a foreign idea to you reading this. I have never had to pump my own fuel. It's only like this in New Jersey and our sister state on the other side of the country Oregon. I'm not sure why it is this way but I like it. Still, why do all girls from New Jersey smell like gas? You chicks in Idaho have an excuse for smelling awful.

The worst thing about these Hess Truck advertisements is that they really hype it up like kids want these trucks. No! No kid wants a Hess Truck. Kids want footballs and wooden horses that rock. Not a truck that delivers Texas Tea (shouldn't it be called Saudi Arabian Tea now?). Someone gave me a Hess Truck years ago. I think I still have it. I bought into the myth that other people would buy it from me for thousands of dollars years later. I couldn't have been more wrong. It was Beanie Babies all over again.

For a while there was a Hess Truck with a spaceship attached to it. With everybody "going green" they had to ban the vehicle. Spaceships take a lot of gasoline to move. I don't know the exact number because science upsets my brain. I'd imagine it's somewhere in the bazillions. It sends a mixed message too having a rocket ship attached to a truck. It makes children think this is normal. Reality check, it isn't. I don't know who Hess thinks they're fooling. Not me.

Being a semi-expert of Nazi Germany, I am reminded of the fact that one of Adolf Hitler's top officials was named Rudolph Hess. Do Hess Trucks promote Nazism? I say of course. I just wanted to throw that in there.

When you go out Christmas shopping this year, be sure to skip over getting a Hess Truck for someone who isn't your enemy. It's a bad gift. A toy fire engine, police car, or ice truck are much more fun for a boy on Christmas morning. Don't buy into the hype. For Christmas this year, make sure the Hess Truck is nowhere near.

Birthday Steaks: Originally Posted 10/1/2011

I don't get why desserts are so coveted at parties. The way people rush to consume them is so primal and animalistic. I've seen some of the slowest and dumbest human beings win races through mazes to get to cake before anyone else. Sometimes they pull muscles and can't move for a few weeks. All of this effort to get a piece of cake, a piece of disgusting, sugar laced death.

Cakes aren't the only dessert, obviously. It's just the most common, easily transportable, let's bring this into a public place dessert. Personally, brownies are better. They own cake. Whenever I eat cake I can feel my toes trying to fall off from Diabetic shock. My teeth tingle too. They want to rot out of my mouth. The thing is I get that same feeling with brownies too. The same goes with ice cream except I also get brain freeze and want to hit something while crying. That's why I avoid desserts as much as I can. They are trying to kill me and aren't afraid to let me know it.

I will only eat birthday cake if it's my own birthday or the birthday of a good friend. I have few friends and none of them are good, so that leaves my own birthday. I feel better not eating desserts. Whenever I do eat them I eat too much of them. They're all I think about. I need to keep my head clear from all of the sugar. I'm convinced the Illuminati are the ones who run the sugar companies and they are controlling our minds with it. Think about it. Fat people are always upset and lazy. Who else is upset and lazy? Zombies! Exactly the type of humans the Illuminati want us to be. Okay, maybe I don't really believe the Illuminati are trying to control our minds with sugar. They have drinking water and invisible sprays for that.

With America waking up and realizing how fat we all are, it seems less and less people are indulging in sweets. Of course, less and less people means more and more for those who don't deprive themselves. Women should only have boobs on the front of their bodies, not the back of their knees.

Diabetes is at an all-time high and that means absolutely nothing to my argument. Let me get sidetracked on stats for a second. Saying something like diabetes is at its peak is really stretching the truth. How long have they kept these stats? Not very long in the ratio of human history. How many people are in this world? Far more than there used to be, paving the way for more people to have diabetes. How terrible for us are the foods we eat? Much worse than they used to be. No wonder it seems like we're all going to get our feet cut off. More statistics and testing, more people, and worse foods is a recipe for childhood hypertension.

From now on I don't want people to give me cake for my birthday. Get me a steak instead. A nice big juicy lean piece of steak. Desserts are so cheap and a steak is expensive. It'll mean more. You can get a tub of ice cream for like $4. A steak costs a lot more and it's a lot better for you and better tasting. Cooked correctly, it can also fit a candle in it perfectly. A Birthday Steak doesn't sound so terrible now does it? I've already eaten dinner tonight and want more just thinking about it.

I know exactly why my perfect dream will never come true, vegetarians. Yeah, those pesky idiots. I respect anyone who values the life of animals and their own health. I really do. It's when they ruin the fun for us carnivores I break out the ass kicking boots.

Life is this simple. Pay attention. You can do whatever you want, whenever you want, as long as it doesn't ruin things for anybody else. And by ruin I mean prevent them from doing what it is they want to do. Vegetarians can eat as much tofu as they want as long as they never bother me with how much meat I eat. You're not me and you will never kill the carnivorous instinct we all have. Even Adam & Eve ate meat, at least they should have. If they did eat meat then they would have been too full to eat a stupid apple and all of us would be living in paradise. It's vegetarians who have created original sin. If you all choke on a veggie burger then we'd all be much happier.

Desserts should never leave the mainstream. I would hate if they do. Sometimes I need them. I'll sit in my car and eat a stack of donuts and hate myself five minutes later. I need those moments every once in a while. I need to feel weak. Other people need desserts to make them feel good, that's fine too. I don't want to abolish desserts at all. What I want is the chance to have something different in celebration of the day you came out of a vagina. That's it.

"Give me a Birthday Steak or give me death." - Patrick Henry

Holiday Battles: Originally Posted 5/28/2011

All American holidays are either in honor of God or soldiers. It's time we figure out who has more.

January:

New Year's Day-This is a soldier holiday. God has to work on New Year's Day. He has to create new babies and kill off drunks in car accidents. Soldiers go into Times Square and dip floozies in the middle of the street.

God: 0 Soldiers: 1

Martin Luther King's Birthday-This is a God holiday. MLK Jr. was a very good person despite what your racist face thinks. He helped move blacks up from 3/5th's of a person to an entire person. That's why they're so tall now.

God: 1 Soldiers: 1

February:

Groundhogs Day-This is a God holiday. God created Groundhogs. Soldiers practice shooting Groundhogs at boot camp. It's not Dead Groundhogs Day. This one goes to God.

God: 2 Soldiers: 1

Valentine's Day-Named after St. Valentine, the ruthless Romanian warlord of love who was known to drink the blood of his victims in battle, this is a holiday for soldiers. They get to see their wives one last time before finding out that she is now dating their truck driving brother. It's their last day of enjoyment.

God: 2 Soldiers: 2

President's Day-A lot of presidents are former soldiers. A lot of presidents also think they're a God. That makes this one a bit of a draw. However, I have a penny and it came up with the war hero Lincoln's face on it. This one goes to soldiers.

God: 2 Soldiers: 3

March:

St. Patrick's Day-If history is correct in my brain, St. Patrick chased off a bunch of snakes in Ireland with a stick. God never liked snakes because he's Indiana Jones. Even though he let them into the Garden of Eden, God didn't like them. He still hated them later on when he told Noah to bring two onto his boat which makes little sense. Wasn't the snake in the Garden of Eden the devil? Wow, God needs better security if his arch nemesis can sneak into the nicest club on earth. Still, this one goes to him.

God: 3 Soldiers: 3

April:

April Fool's Day-Both God and soldiers are known to be practical jokesters. God uses floods, volcanoes, and Top 40 Radio to pull his pranks on humanity. Soldiers usually point and laugh at small Arab masked penises. God wins.

God: 4 Soldiers: 3

Easter-Is there any argument here? God had his son killed for a holiday. Now that's a man that enjoys wearing a holiday sweater.

God: 5 Soldiers: 3

May:

Memorial Day-Like Easter this one has a clear cut winner that needs no argument. Although, God has created everything so I guess all holidays should be his. But throwing out that argument, the soldiers get this easy lay-up.

God: 5 Soldiers: 4

June:

Flag Day-This is an entire day to celebrate old Glory. But more than that we're celebrating soldiers...or are we? God appears in many phrases in American culture. Most notably, he appears on the back of the dollar bill. Soldiers die for the flag and that is why they should win this one. But still, they are fighting for God & Country. The flag represents country, but God comes first in the phrase. God gets the win here.

God: 6 Soldiers: 4

July:

Independence Day-I don't want to fuck over the soldiers with another loss right here. But, God is mentioned in the Declaration of Independence. At least, I think he is. So much for separation of church and state. I used to own a copy of the Declaration of Independence. I never looked at it. I hired an ex-militant to kill the person who gave it to me. Soldiers get the win.

God: 6 Soldiers: 5

August:

There are no holidays this month. Not even a stretch of a holiday. What an awful month. Go fuck yourself August.

September:

Labor Day-God works 6 days a week. That's an awful lot. Single moms sometimes work that much. Single moms usually have to work Sunday too though. God always gets off. Soldiers have to work 7 days a week. The only advantage they have is they haven't had to work for 6,000 years (that's right, the world is only 6,000 years old, the Bible tells me so). This is one of the few days a year where soldiers can throw down their guns and barbecue. This one is for them.

God: 6 Soldiers: 6

October:

Columbus Day-This is a day to celebrate the discovery of America by Christopher Columbus. The last time I checked (Tuesday) Christopher Columbus was not God. Was he a soldier? I don't think so. But his brother-in-law was. As he stepped off the Santa Maria, he said "This is for my sister's husband Rod!" Rod was a soldier. Soldiers win.

God: 6 Soldiers: 7

Halloween-A lot of religious people hate this holiday. I'm not sure why. I usually see slutty angels and demonic priests walking around this day more than I do any other day when a gay parade isn't going on. People never really dress up as God for Halloween. How could you? He's not public enough. We're not really sure what he looks like. He's like J.D. Salinger. I've seen plenty of people dressed as soldiers for Halloween. They take this easy.

God: 6 Soldiers: 8

November:

Election Day-Soldiers usually vote. They use something called an absentee ballot. I know this because there was complaining about this a few years back. I had never heard of an absentee ballot before then. Hanging Chad was also a new term. God never votes. He doesn't have to. He's God for his sake. He can break down the voting booths if he wants to. That's badass.

God: 7 Soldiers: 8

Thanksgiving-Soldiers always come home on this day. It's weird because it's a Thursday. Soldiers usually are torturing infidels then. God has little to no involvement in Thanksgiving, at least not in my version. The Bible never mentions turkeys or squash. Soldiers talk about those things all the time. So do black guys from the 70s. They squash jive turkeys.

God: 7 Soldiers: 9

December:

Christmas-God.

God: 8 Soldiers: 9

Hanukah-I have never met a Jewish soldier. I'm not even sure if I've ever met a soldier or a Jew. I've definitely never met a hybrid of the two. This is another toss-up. Luckily I have a dradle on hand. I spun it and it came up with famous Jewish God Abraham Lincoln's face. God picks up this win.

God: 9 Soldiers: 9

Kwanza-I'm not going to bother with this one. It's not a real holiday anyway.

God: 9 Soldiers: 9

Boxing Day-Canada's finest...but I'm only doing American holidays. What about those Canadian immigrants? I'll honor them. Canadians aren't very religious people. They're also not very good soldiers. They have a leaf on their flag and don't mention God much or if at all in their national anthem. Still, it's hard to give this one to the soldiers. I'll determine this as who would win in a boxing match, God or the toughest soldier in the world. In a two second knockout, God wins.

God: 10 Soldiers: 9

New Year's Eve-God is a good human being/creator/aluminous ball of intelligent gas. He concedes this one to the soldiers. He wants to have an equal amount of holidays for himself and for the soldiers. God is not a Communist despite his socialist viewpoints. God has no political party. He supports our troops. You should support our troops. Tie a yellow ribbon on your car or to a tree. I think that's what you do for soldiers. It might be what you do for missing children. But aren't soldiers nothing more than missing children with large guns?

God: 10 Soldiers: 10

***

What's the Most Disgusting Thing You've Thought About?

If the Internet has taught me anything it's we as humans are all incredibly disgusting and gross monsters. You're all gross for having weird deformities on your bodies and fetishes. I'm gross because I spend my time online looking at your weird deformities and learning about your fetishes.

Some people don't enjoy being grossed out or ever bringing up certain topics which are less than holy. Why deny your gross thoughts and actions? So many great things have been invented by sharing our most disgusting thoughts. Keeping up with the Kardashians does monster ratings. It would not exist if we weren't willing to accept the existence of incredibly disgusting untalented people.

Public Poos: Originally Posted 9/12/2012

If you like reading about pooping then you are in the correct place. If bowel movements frighten you then you're a wimp and should go away for a little while. I hate taking a poo in public. By public I don't mean next to a playground slide while everyone is staring at me. I think I could handle that more. At least everybody knows my stance on life, I'm insane. When I say public I mean somewhere a vampire would be allowed to take a poo like a normal person. Did you know vampires are allowed to enter libraries, hospitals, and other public buildings? They don't need to be invited in like they do a home. I remember this from an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer so it must be true.

Even further than taking a poo in public, I always had a fear about taking one anywhere outside my home. Each year my dad would take my sister and me to the Poconos in upstate Pennsylvania because he used to murder honeymooners in heart-shaped bath tubs in the mid-90s. This saved him an extra trip. I went an entire week without going poop once. This might seem insane, but the one time I did go the year earlier I clogged the toilet. The place we stayed was owned by my dad's only friend. He was a very large man with a Brooklyn accent. I would have surely had my face shoved into the toilet once it was discovered my DNA was attached to the terd doing the clogging. Like my opinions, I was better off keeping my shit within.

Poop is a word I say way too frequently. My most common daily phrases I have come to realize are "Come on!" and "Jesus Christ!" Between driving and having to walk a dog who tries to eat every pine cone he smells, I have good reason to say these as frequently as I do. I'm not a poop fan. In the last year I have calculated I have picked up approximately 678 clumps of poop. That's twice a day, every day, minus once a week when I make my sisters do it. If I lived in a country like Germany where the stuff is like gold, I would have a castle by now.

The entire time I was in school I only took a poop once while on the clock. I was in first period study hall when my tummy began to grumble. I began to sweat. Somehow I survived the entire period without going. Then second period came. This was my keyboarding class. Luckily the fast typing managed to drown out any noises my stomach was making. Still, it helped none of the pain. I asked the teacher for a hall pass and made my way toward a bathroom. My high school was so lame they only kept one bathroom open at a time and it changed every hour. This was so kids could not go in there and smoke. This was a major problem. I practically cursed out a fat history teacher asking me where the nearest bathroom was. He pointed. A gay kid was in the bathroom cleaning chocolate off his shirt. I pretended to pee because I didn't want him going around to the Glee Club saying I'm someone who shits. I walked out then walked back in. Just so he didn't think I was insane I declared out loud "Wow now I have to shit." He nodded and I scared him away from men's assholes for life. You're welcome Republicans.

I managed to go a long time at my day job without going number two. I say day job like I have a night job. Like posing as a police officer and asking to search people's wallets qualifies as a real job. When I got older I cared less about where I let the chips fall. I was mostly ready to let it happen at work. Only once when it was the middle of the day and I knew the bathroom would be crowded and someone was bound to recognize my shoes then report to the highest ranking supervisor they could that I was someone who shits which most assuredly would get me fired did I venture someplace else to cleanse my body of breakfast. I went to the fancy hotel across the street I worked at for a month and was never paid for anything I did. In this hotel bathroom I left the Mona Lisa of poops in a toilet sitting there for whoever came in next. I call it the Mona Lisa because it was very androgynous.

As I grow older my bowels are something I need to be more concerned about. I went to the last baseball game at Veterans Stadium in Philadelphia. My dad made a short scrapbook from the day yet the only thing I can remember is going home and painfully squeezing one out for the first time in days. From that day I swore I would never go more than a day without at least trying to go. Some men swear to take care of their families. Others promise to serve their countries. Me, I do my best to shit once a day.

Cartoons: Originally Posted 9/12/2011

You live in a world where you can go to Google Images type in your favorite cartoon character's name followed by the word "naked" and yield results. It's true. Try it. Isn't that sick? I bet you never thought you'd see Buzz Lightyear doing that with his tongue.

I can't remember the first time I stumbled upon this artwork. I do remember the first picture I saw. It was one of Marge Simpson breast-feeding and Bart sitting next to her pleasuring himself to it. Marge was angry, justifiably so. The couch they have in their living room is too nice to have naked 10 year old boy ass on it.

The strangest thing about this phenomenon that seems to be sweeping the nation is none of our favorite cartoon characters ever seem to be partaking in traditional sex acts. There's always a thumb in someone's butt and they're filled with incest. I guess if you get turned on by seeing Snow White in the front of a train of dwarfs, it won't bother you very much to see Jasmine from Aladdin going down on her tiny fat father. And when I say tiny and fat I'm not talking about his body. He's hung like a mini-Coke can.

I wonder though, who draws these pictures? Are they people like you and me? Unless there is one guy out there, one very talented yet sick individual, there must be an entire community of people who sketch these pictures for our viewing pleasure. Some of them I'm sure have families. They must have loving wives and troubled teenaged kids. Yet their one true talent must remain hidden from the world. It takes a certain skill to be able to draw a Princess in a lesbian love affair with a Mermaid.

This little niche community must go into hiding though because of those among us who persecute them. We say it's sick and wrong. But really, who is being hurt? Unlike pornography with real people, no women are being degraded. No diseases are being spread. No child is being humiliated years later when friends discover what his mom did to afford her sweet car. The only line that can be drawn with this is if there are children involved. I don't know the legality of it but if it stops a real child from getting molested then have at it. But then there can be a whole argument whether or not Pinocchio was always a real boy and that's just a silly argument. If someone wants to draw Pinocchio naked, go ahead. I support you. His nose practically is a cock. He's made of wood so it's predictable to know that he'll have an erection.

Everyone has the right to spend their easily earned money however they want. Some of us will spend it on toys for our children. The rest will probably spend it on naked pictures of Cinderella, Bambi, and the mom from Toy Story. I think the artists of these pictures should come out of the shadows and let their faces be shown. There is no reason to hide. You have brought joy and humor to this world. You have also given a few others a hard-on. You've slaved away for hours making the nipple of a fake human being look extra red. You're a rare commodity, a necessary one too. The only thing to fear is losing your family, friends, and dignity. I think it's worth it to get the credit you deserve.

String Theories: Originally Posted 11/30/2011

Donnie Darko is a film about a teenage boy who travels through time, I think. Nobody really knows what the movie is about. Seth Rogan is one of the bullies in Donnie Darko which you may not have known. He has only a few lines one of which being, "Let's get the fuck out of here!" It's a movie you either love or hate, unless you're me. I can't decide whether or not I like it. The colors are pretty, the theme is dark, and I'm impressed how they got both Gyllenhalls to play siblings. It doesn't take much for me to like a movie. Just put on two relatives and it doesn't matter how little I understand the plot. I will still enjoy your film.

The main theme of Donnie Darko is about string theory, I think. Shit. This movie is really confusing, almost as confusing as string theory itself. For those scientifically retarded individuals reading this, string theory is basically the idea of being able to travel on different "strings" of time. It's almost like you have multiple paths you can go down. You follow the string to meet your destiny. Honestly, I might be completely wrong as to what string theory really is. That's what I gathered from flipping through a few pages of a book about it and reading the Wikipedia summary of Donnie Darko. Science isn't my best subject. Home Economics has that distinction. You should taste my snickerdoodles.

One string theory I do understand is the one about the piece of string I found in my parent's bedroom when I was around 10 years old. I was playing with my sister (not like that) and we found a piece of string. I don't remember the color. All I do remember was that it was a short piece of string, yarn perhaps.

Being 10 years old, my mind assumed the only thing adults do when they're in a bedroom together is have sex. I wanted to believe my parents were in a happy and healthy relationship so I believed every time they went into the bedroom it was their honeymoon all over again. That's where my string theory comes into play.

Using my lackluster knowledge of science, I concluded that the string I found beside the bed must be some sort of sexual device, but for what exactly? How can one small piece of string possibly cause extreme sexual arousal? Well, here's a list of things I can think of that you could use string for to get off on.

Puppet Master: The string is tied around the penis in a loop with another strand free to tug on. It doesn't matter what part it is tied to. All that matters is the penis must be fastened in tightly like it's about to go on some extreme sporting adventure. The partner (or wife, because gay sex is a sin) will pull on the string and make the penis wobble to and fro like a sassy black woman making a point with her hands on her hips. This action will resemble a marionette puppet and if the kids were to walk in you can always put on a cute show until you can think of a better excuse for why a string is tied to a dick.

Indian Burn: Place the string below the penis and pull each side of the string upwards. Pull the string back and forth (this will be an up motion) causing the penis to receive an Indian burn. The quicker you do this the better. This would only be suggested for those who are into inflicting or receiving pain. I know who you are! And I want your phone number.

Chinese Finger Trap: Both partners tie an end of the string around their erect nipples while facing each other. Then you take a step backwards until it stretches your nipples even further, guaranteeing arousal. The act resembles that of a Chinese finger trap, the device created by the Chinese where the stereotype of them being sneaks came from. There's no real escape from this unless you count escaping a life of sexual repression.

Indiana Jones: The female partner lies down on her back, legs up in the air. The male partner (or female partner, lesbian sex isn't a sin) takes the string and in a whipping fashion whips the vagina of his female partner as hard as he can. Be sure to hit the clitoris. That's where girls like to be touched. I've read that in Cosmopolitan and my sister's diary.

Rat Tail: The female in the relationship places the string into her vagina with only one little piece hanging out. This will look like the tail of a rat if done properly. The male's job is to slowly pull the string out. This is a very rare yet satisfying sexual activity that has been handed down from incestuous family to incestuous family. Also, do not pull too quickly. It could be hazardous and do internal damage.

That's where my 10-year-old mind was at. I really believed my parents could do such horrible activities to each other while I tried sleeping on the other side of the wall.

To this day string still freaks me out a little bit. I wonder where it has been and why it smells like balls. I can't wear hoodies with the strings in them and I always have to cut the strings on the blinds off whenever I enter a room. I can't eat string cheese. Stringer Bell from The Wire made me feel uncomfortable. It doesn't matter what form the string is in. Thin, thick, long, short, all string reminds me of is my parents being passionate. It makes me almost want to hang myself, but a noose reminds me too much of string.

Human Centipedes: Originally Posted 11/19/2011

I woke up this morning with the taste of ass in my mouth. It was not pleasant. But it reminded me of the film Human Centipede. It's been probably around a year since I saw the film and yet I still think about it often. I'm not sure why exactly. Nothing about it was fantastic and none of the characters reminded me of myself. What is it about this film I can't shake?

For those of you who don't know the plot, I'll sum it up quickly. I'll do my best not spoil it for you. The film has two dumb American women in it who get tricked into getting tied up by a crazy German man. The film was shot in Amsterdam. Is that what the world thinks about American women and German men? That all American women are stupid and German men are creeps? Is the world really that smart?

The girls get kidnapped and there's a pretty good 15 minute sequence that really scared me a lot. Eventually, the German is able to do his evil deed of creating the Human Centipede. It involves connecting three people, ass to mouth, to each other making sure the digestive tract all functions in a straight line. I remember reading somewhere how the science behind it was true. That although the people would die, our bodies work in such a straight line where food can pass through three people and then out of the back. I don't remember where it was I read this. Probably a drunk text message from an ex.

Today I spent the day wondering which part of the centipede I would want to be if forced to be one. In the film, the German makes it obvious that the middle is the worst and I do concur. I always agree with a German. Do you know what happens when you don't? Bad shit!

Maybe if I think it out more I can prove this evil man was wrong in his assumption about the middle. I have compiled a list of pros and cons for each position of the Human Centipede:

The Front

The film has a Japanese man as the front. He doesn't know English so he speaks whatever crazy language he speaks. There are subtitles whenever he speaks so if you've thought this movie isn't educational, you're wrong. You can learn this Japanese man's mysterious language.

Pro:

1) You can still speak

2) No shit goes in your mouth

3) You never have to stare at an asshole if you don't want to

4) Your taste buds still serve a purpose

5) You can still fool people on dating websites to go on dates with you, even if you use a recent picture with the other two people attached to you cropped out

Con:

1) People will ask how this happened and you'll be the one who has to tell the story

2) You'll probably have to be the one to work a job to support all three of you

3) The two people behind you can easily talk bad about you behind your back

4) You still have to go to the dentist

5) If you're not a natural leader, things are not going to work out well

The Middle

Like mentioned earlier, the middle is the worst at first glance. The crazy German makes the girl he hates most the middle of his crazy creation. I hate being in the middle of things. I'm the middle child and that means the least liked of any family member. It's not fair. Being in the middle sucks, ask Malcolm.

Pro:

1) Nothing more is expected of you

2) You will never feel alone, you will always have one person right in front of you and one right behind

3) Only one person's shit has to go into your mouth (kind of glass half full mentality with that one)

4) For girls, no more men will pinch your butts

5) For guys, no more having to wipe your butt

Con:

1) You can never get your face in Christmas card pictures anymore without an ass being in the way

2) If the front and the back argue then you'll be stuck there awkwardly

3) No elbow room at all

4) You'll never be the first person to enter the room, whether your centipede moves forwards or backwards

5) Really hard to put on a shirt or pants, unlike your counterparts who can get at least one on

The Back

Human Centipede had the other dumb American in the very back. I kind of felt in the movie it was her fault they were in this predicament in the first place. She seemed whinier to me than the other American girl. Who takes a drink from a complete stranger even if it is just water? She deserved to eat two people's shit.

Pro:

1) You still have the ability to dance or at least kick your feet backwards to the beat

2) That new chair you bought can still get a little use

3) You can still have awkward anal sex, if that's your thing

4) If you get hit with a baseball nobody blames you for being stupid. There was no possible way you could have seen it coming

5) Nobody tries small talk with you because you cannot talk and your breath smells terrible

Con:

1) Very easy for someone to have awkward an anal sex with you, against your will

2) If the middle is fat, you will often go overlooked and have to stick your hand out to wave so your friends know that you're at the party and you're having fun

3) You come off looking like a sheep who follows not one but two people

4) You never get to taste fine wine ever again

5) You'll have to put all of your money into anal bleaching because that's all anybody will ever see of you

Now that I've listed this all out, I would definitely want to be the front. You can have the most normal life. You can be charming, read books, and kiss girls. Sure, you'll have two creeps behind you mumbling stuff all day. Remember the most important fact, no butts in your face all of the time. That's why I would choose to be the front. That and I don't have a nice enough butt to represent myself.

***

What's Your Favorite Kind of Food?

Just like how everybody poops, everybody eats. In order to poop one must eat. That's all food really is, future poop. This is how the body works. Who said this book wasn't educational?

I like all kinds of food. I grew up an incredibly fat kid and spent the first 17 years of my life eating nonstop. There are few foods I have never had the opportunity to try. I've eaten entire jars of peanut butter on several occasions, usually in my car so nobody can watch my shameful life decisions. I ate an entire stick of butter another time just because I could. Through it all I've learned a lot about my food and what I like and what I do not like. People love reading about food as much as they enjoy watching people have sex. It's an easy way to live vicariously through others.

Regrets: Originally Posted 1/5/2012

I don't like people who say they don't regret a thing in their life. Really? Nothing? Not one single embarrassing moment or faux pas? Liar! Nobody is that perfect. Nobody is that optimistic about the way things are in their life. Don't give me that "everything happens for a reason" "one thing leads to another" "mistakes make us who we are" garbage. Even if they are all true, it doesn't mean you can't have regret.

I regret lots of stuff. That doesn't mean I can't accept them. I don't know if given the chance I'd go back and change a thing. I'm too paranoid about it. I've seen The Butterfly Effect, A Sound of Thunder, and The Simpsons Halloween episode where Homer travels through time and kills things and it changes the present. Time travel is a scary thing to me. I do believe the littlest event can change who you are. I also believe the littlest event can have no relevance to you whatsoever. It's a crapshoot. It's better to not worry about it and just do your thing.

The biggest regret of my life happened to me five minutes ago. I ate Wasabi. Why? Why did I eat Wasabi? Every time I do I cough and my eyes water. I grab something to drink and mutter swears under my breath. I'm so stupid. Why do I always do this to myself? I'm like the woman who goes back to the abusive boyfriend. It's time to admit that I like the abuse Wasabi gives me.

Like all trendy hipsters, I enjoy my sushi. I think it has a lot to do with how funny it looks. It doesn't look like real food. Honestly, I couldn't tell you what it tastes like or the difference from one kind to another. It's mostly fun to eat. I feel like I'm eating a cartoon food. Or like in that scene from Hook where they all have to imagine food. Everything is all bright blue and looks like fancy puddings or yogurts. That's what sushi is to me. It's a fun alien food that Rufio can throw at me and I can cut in half with a sword.

Like all trendy hipsters, I secretly hate myself. That's why I think I always eat the Wasabi. I like to stare death in the eye. If you're confused as to what Wasabi is then you're not trendy like me. It's this green Play-Do looking food (I cannot confirm it actually is not Play-Do) that comes from the ass pimples of Satan. It's the spiciest thing I have ever put in my mouth. And I've blown Ricky Martin with a jalapeno under my tongue.

I could easily skip over my Wasabi. The sushi is fine. It also comes with this clear colored stuff that looks like it came off a foot blister. I have no idea what it is, but I like it. I'm the kind of person who always cleans his plate. The last time I remember not clearing my plate was when I bought a salad, didn't have any dressing, and thought putting hot sauce on it would do the job. I was incorrect. I ate about half the salad then threw it away. Lesson learned.

There is a video out there somewhere of Steve-O from Jackass snorting Wasabi. I know, I thought he had enough money too. Those guys need to hire someone to manage their money. Three Jackass movies? Unnecessary. Use your first million to start a company. Don't waste it away on shots in a Pennsylvania bar. I'm trying to think up a good joke about Ryan Dunn here to finish this paragraph off. That might be insensitive, but remember he was like 30, driving like 100, and had an IQ of about 60. I can never under any circumstances where I'd feel bad for someone who drinks and drives then speeds. I understand sometimes there's no other way to get home. That's why I added that speed thing in there. If you're going to be drinking and driving, do it cautiously. You kill someone, we get to castrate you. That sound like a deal? Sorry, this has nothing to do with Wasabi and I know how much you want to hear more about it. I just felt the need to say drunk drivers are pricks. When you put the lives of anyone else in danger and it isn't for the greater good then you are a scumbag. You having a fun on a Friday night is not worth anyone dying.

Rants about dumb man-children without talent over, I need to discontinue my Wasabi eating. With most regrets, after time I no longer regret it. I managed to survive a horrific event. I'm fine now. I feel more invincible than ever before. It's difficult for me to draw the line at anything (I have shaky hands and my lines turn into to Z's), but I have to with Wasabi. It's going to end up killing me. My family will find me in my apartment with a half-eaten container of sushi in my pajama pants with some Wasabi on my lips. I can so see myself going out like that. It's scary really. I have to enter the next realm of life just because I can't control myself around a food I don't even like. It's all that "there are starving children in China" talk I heard when I was a young boy. No wonder children in China are so hungry. The Japanese are always sending them Wasabi and they'd rather starve than put that in their mouth.

100 Calorie Packs: Originally Posted 7/10/2012

Some argue what the greatest invention in the last ten years has been. People will say things like the iPod, the iPhone, or other products that are fun to smash. I have to disagree completely. My favorite invention is the 100 calorie pack. Bags of food containing exactly 100 calories, give or take if you actually do the correct math based on the macronutrients on the back which I have found when I have done can sometimes can be off by a total of 30. These heroes of dieters have flown under the radar. They're never on the cover of Life Magazine or making an appearance in Taylor Swift music videos. It's time these desserts got their just desserts.

Supermarkets are filled with 100 calorie packs nowadays. That was not always the case. Before you would have to get a Ding Dong and throw half in your neighbor's mailbox to save the calories. Not anymore. Options have risen as well. I remember when these awesome inventions first came along we were very limited. Now every evil corporation under the sun makes these products. Even the Quaker Brand, who are run by vampires and never see the sun, have gotten in on the action. Options can make me nervous but with so many wonderful ones out there it makes me jump for joy!

My old school favorites were the cinnamon muffins, the little chocolate bites, and the banana muffins. I totally forgot about the banana muffins. I am almost tempted to put some pants on right now and go to the store and eat a box. I won't though, too many people to run into outside my lowly apartment. I used to eat 100 calorie packs like I was the Pacific Ocean and they were Hawaiians paddling on a makeshift raft. These packs would be devoured by me. My lunch would consist of four packs of whatever ones I was in the mood for. Not realizing this was as healthy as maybe eating a whole donut instead, I managed to keep my ever-present sexy wet sponge figure. I'm sure I am not the only person to have a problem wanting to eat the entire box of 100 calorie packs. With all those strange addictions out there, I know I'm not alone.

Why exactly do I think 100 calorie packs are a great invention? It's simple. They satisfy that need for something sweet in your mouth. Instead of getting ice cream, a candy bar, or an entire wedding cake like I have thought about doing, you get 100 simple calories you would probably exercise off anyway with a light 7 hour jog in place. People who jog in place are always big fans of 100 calorie packs. They also call them 1CP's to save time. Not to be confused with ICP, which stands for Insane Clown Posse. Insane Clown Posse fans frighten me. I don't know a single one of their songs either. They remind me of an angry and less marketable version of KISS.

We're in a time of fad diets and 1CP's are here to help. I heard a girl recently talk about her fad diet. She said how today she could eat up to 8 bananas and could drink half a gallon of milk. The next day she could eat 12 ounces of steak, but she would have to also eat 5 whole tomatoes. This is no way to live. Did she ever stop and think this is insane? This diet works because it's starvation. It has specific directions on what to eat which seems to be a lot of people's problems. She's not even all that overweight. I mean yeah she should lose 5 pounds if she ever wants a man to love her. But this diet is not the way to go. I'm pretty sure she gave up on the diet. She couldn't make it through the day of eating 11 oranges and 2 and a half pistachios while balancing on one foot.

I hope 100 calorie packs stick around. Really, I do. I hardly eat them but I feel like they helped keep me from getting really fat. I'm sure others have had the same experience. There are so many wonderful products available too. Chocolates, pretzels, nuts, chocolates pretzel nuts, everything you could ever crave. I love 100 calorie packs. I really do. Probably more than any person I've ever met. They don't judge me. I know exactly what I'm getting, 100 calories of deliciousness. If these grew from trees, Adam and Eve would have been kicked out of Eden the first shot they had. Could you blame them? Banana muffins are their own paradise.

Salads: Originally Posted 5/7/2012

Lately I've been on a salad kick. Of all the things to be addicted to, salads have to be the healthiest. They're also probably the most humiliating. I guess if you were addicted to putting things up your butt you might be a little upset about admitting it. Your mom would ask you where all of her cookies went and you'd blush then feel guilty knowing where they really were. That's probably not a good example. Nobody puts cookies up their butt, unless they run out of chocolate chips. Then that kind of solves that problem. At least from a first glance. Get it? Chocolate chips look like shit.

The kind of salads I've been eating are nothing special. I'll purchase a bag of some mix high in Vitamin A, usually romaine. I am obsessed with eating lots of Vitamin A. I really don't want to go blind. I'll have to learn brail. I don't have the fingers for it. And I love sight gags in films. The Naked Gun is way too serious without them. I'll open my bag with the orange scissors I stole from school a decade ago. Pour it all into my giant new salad serving bowl, heat up some chicken, mix everything together, and douse it with salad dressing. I use a salad serving bowl because I like big salads and I can fit a lot in there. It might look a little ridiculous, but the only one to ever see me eat out of it is my dog. He's mostly embarrassed that I'm eating vegetables. I tried giving him a carrot the other day. He decided a better meal was biting his own genitals.

My salad dressing of choice has been raspberry vinaigrette. It's what a rich woman with wrinkly skin living in New York City would say "is to die for." Some people don't like a fruity flavor with their salads. I can understand it. Because who wants to feel so healthy like they're eating fruits and vegetables in one serving? I did buy a calorie free dressing of ranch which was terrible. I'm not sure if I dislike ranch or if I'm just not fat enough to enjoy it. Really, ranch is for people who live in ranch style homes because they're too lazy to walk up stairs. It comes with disgusting foods that guarantee heart failure. Slowly but surely I'll digest this substance that must be nothing more than flavored water with a lot of salt thrown in. Worst $4 I ever spent since donating money to that sick kid who died a week later.

Some people have are more fancy and get their salads pre-made. Or they're even fancier and follow directions or recipes and build their own salads following those guidelines. There's the Cobb Salad named after ruthless murderer and baseball player Ty Cobb. There's the Caesar Salad named after the haircut of the same name. There's the Chef Salad named after the Isaac Hayes character from South Park. A few others are more specific and give away what's inside. Things like buffalo chicken, Asian noodle, or garden are a few other choices to select from. I hate garden salads. I'd feel like a rabbit. Vegetables without any meat present feels like two Ken Dolls trying to have sinful gay sex. There's no dick present. It makes the sex look pointless.

I used to wonder how anyone could ever eat a salad. It seemed so plain and unfilling. I don't remember the first salad I had. It was sometime during my turn in life toward "healthy living." One time my sister bet me $10 I couldn't eat an entire giant bowl of lettuce. I never ate my vegetables as a boy, but I also never backed down from a challenge. After about 3 bites I felt like throwing up. I was crying. The lettuce hitting my taste buds was painful. I never finished it and I don't remember if I got the money or not. I was alive and at the time that's all I cared about. Plus my mom yelled at my sister for almost killing me. I think I was taken out for ice cream after for at least making an effort at eating vegetables. If I ever say my childhood sucked, remind me of this event.

I would eat more salads but they're really expensive. At Subway it's $5 for a salad with the same amount of meat you get for a 6-inch sub. Technically you would be better off ordering a regular foot long sandwich, throwing the bread in the toilet, and eating what you have left out of your lap or a bowl. Salads I guess are so expensive because you have to pay for the dumb plastic bowls and the labor it takes to chop the pieces of meat up and properly sprinkle cheese around the outer edges. You know, grueling tasks like those. If salads weren't around $5 for around 250 calories, maybe more people would get them and be healthy. For now I'm going to stick with my homemade salads. I'll continue eating them out of a gigantic tin bowl with 4 servings of dressing on the top. It's 1/4th the usual fat content or so they say. This way it's like I'm eating normally and go through a bottle in 3 days.

***

Who Should Hitler Have Really Gone After?

"Hitler had the right idea; he was just an underachiever." - Bill Hicks

I need not say another word.

Old People Conversations: Originally Posted 6/19/2012

Throughout our lives we make memories. From these memories we get stories. Stories we share with unwilling folk who are way too polite to tell us to shut up. We're boring them. I know I've been guilty of telling awful stories before. I've realized it six words in that my listening partner has no interest in hearing about my amazing adventure involving a screensaver. With that said I would like to call out the people most guilty of having horrible stories, old people.

I know. You probably have met some old folk who have great tales to tell. My grandfather chopped off Japanese people's heads in the 1940s during some famous war I cannot remember the name of because it involved Roman Numerals. Yet all he ever talked about to me was the weather or how his friends would go in a lake naked together and stick their dicks out as trains passed by. Thank goodness for video games and glue huffing.

I have been unfortunate enough to never have a worthwhile conversation with an old person. With that out-of-the-way I can now tell you what it is old people seem to talk to me about. Avoid the sounds of oceans or rainforests. Just thinking about these topics could lure you to sleep.

Old people are very nostalgic. You would be too if you can't remember where the adult diaper aisle is but you can still remember losing your virginity during a Fireside Chat. I love nostalgia as much as the next person. The problem with old people is their nostalgia takes place during a time when I could barely wipe the spit off my own face. Old people like to bring up memories of younger people when they were children. This could be cute if they had more than three memories. It gets annoying too because old people enjoy saying the same lousy stories over and over again. Worse is when they talk about dead relatives you never met. We have more dead relatives than we have living ones. That's a lot of names to remember, a lot of people with the same blood for us to also not care about. Maybe I'd be more interested if anyone in my bloodline ever did anything interesting. At least my one friend's ancestor was the first person to ever be killed by the electric chair. My relatives alive around then probably were the dopes his great-great-grandfather killed.

Commercials are a thing old people love to discuss. Television shows, sure. Go ahead. Discuss away. But commercials? Have they not heard of TiVo, downloading, DVDs, or putting your fingers in your ears and saying "La La La" while those marketing demons run amuck on our screens? Young people cannot stand commercials. The colors are not bright enough. Miranda Cosgrove is not in enough of them. I've watched those "Best Commercials" shows before. What a dumb move by me. I should just get a Coca-Cola logo tattooed on my forehead and go by the name "TheBigBangTheory ThursdayNightsOnCBS." Is that show on Thursday nights? I've never seen it. Why would I want to watch a show about nerdy guys who are actually friends with a hot chick? I can't get a hot chick to ask me for help during a rape. Is my cheering for the rapist too obvious whose side I'm on?

Whenever I run into an "adult" they always ask me about work. When I say adult I mean someone who could be my parent and we're never fully honest with each other. Adults love talking about work. They say how they hate it, how they put in more effort than anyone else, and so on with lots and lots of boring nonsense about work. When people ask me how work is I usually shrug and want to tell them that it exists. It's work! If I loved it then you would have seen me smile at some point in my life. I never ask people about their work. Either their job is boring or so incredibly awesome I'd be jealous to hear about it. There's nothing wrong with talking about your job when something groundbreaking actually happens. I get it. But finding a pair of scissors in your desk and not knowing who put them there is not mysterious. It's a waste of breath telling me about it.

What do I think a conversation with an old person should actually entail? They can't talk much about their childhoods with joy. A lot of old people grew up in dark times. When my generation was young we'd get Legos stuck up our noses. When my grandparents were young they'd get tuberculosis stuck down their throats. That's probably why old people talk about simple happier things. They're glad to be out of the dark times. All I ask of old people is not to talk about their children with me like I should be impressed. Your son is 34. He should be all moved out of your home. He's no big deal.

Young People Indiscretions: Originally Posted 6/20/2012

My last post was about how painful a conversation with an old person can be. What to me exactly is an old person? It's anyone twice my age or older who also can be easily pushed over. Are you 48+ and have poor balance? You're old! I want to lay off the octogenarians here. Instead my focus will go onto young people and recent events that have arrived into my life to make me hate them even more. What exactly is a young person you ask? Anyone within 10 years of me who deserves to die based on their personality. No wonder the Democrats always win. Our country is full of young people.

I've always been a person who has gotten along better with older people. Actually no. Maybe not. I have had friends much older which always made me feel cool. Then they'd get a new friend who was younger than me. When this would happen I'd feel like I had been replaced and I could no longer get away with being bad by saying W's instead of R's. "I'm sowwy" doesn't work as an apology when you have a beard. Plus I get letters confused sometimes. I'll say R's instead of L's to try to be cute. Friends will think I'm insulting Chinese Americans and get pissy with me. They're young and full of white guilt. Insulting people from a nation who oppress their people is very insensitive.

One thing young people don't seem to do is say "thank you." They do say sorry. If instead of saying sorry girls would have sex with me I would never have to venture into the city for a whore ever again. Why is it that a person might apologize but not say thanks? I think it's a guilt thing. Young people hate being in trouble. I'm not quite sure what being in trouble really even means other than with the law. Why would someone over 18 be upset if someone else over 18 was mad at them? I get it if you're a kid and your parents are mad or vice versa. But if your boss is mad at you? If the diners at Denny's don't seem to like you? Why care? I like being thanked when I go out of my way for people. I helped a girl out with something recently. Yes, I only helped her because her breasts shook as she walked. That's not to say I wouldn't have helped her otherwise. I would have been less eager is all I'm saying. Bitch didn't even thank me! From now on when I see her I am farting in her general direction and using my hand to wave it up toward her nose.

Young people also never follow directions or listen to others. I hate this. I mean yeah, if it's an old person talking, ignore them. But when a fellow young person like me gives you a warning, open your ears. Again, recently I warned a young person about a problem. Sorry for being vague. It's pretty boring to tell you about how I had helped the big bosomed girl find some keys and warned this idiot how a computer may not work. He used the computer anyway after a very stern warning from me. Then he acted as if he had no idea. Didn't we have a conversation? Take your Colorado Rockies hat and shove it up your ass. You're not from Denver. You're Spanish. They don't have Spanish people there. Spanish people can't breathe in thin air. Your name doesn't even start with a C. Don't pass this off like a dumb rapper would.

Drama is a word homosexuals use when telling you about their college major or young people use to describe what they hate in their lives. Anyone who says they hate drama is dramatic. Like people who hate ghosts. You only hate ghosts because ghosts follow you around. You probably are a ghost too. People who hate drama bring it upon themselves. My upstairs neighbor who is a year younger than me is the most dramatic woman ever. What did I hear her complaining about today? Facebook drama! She has two children. She placed the body part of one, or very likely many, men inside of a certain place on her body and out came two large objects with similar DNA to herself. This is how babies are made. It's silly to get all bent up over someone on Facebook telling you that you "have to get your life together" as she said throwing in a few motherfuckers like it was punctuation. "Who is she to tell me I don't have my life together? Fuck that bitch!" she went on to say. If you get this enraged by what someone says on Facebook then you clearly do not have your life together.

The worst thing young people do is exist. Breathing in air I could be breathing in makes me hate them. I hate young guys who act as if they're hot shots. You're not. You have good posture. That's all you have that I don't. If I ever learn how to stand up straight then what will you have to gloat about? I hate young girls who act as if they're princesses and I'm some smelly serf. I get it that I may smell and usually am plowing fields like a serf might do, but act as if I am present in mind and body. There is nothing more unattractive about a girl than one who never smiles. You're a young white American woman. You haven't had a problem doing anything in 100 years. You don't even have to be good at singing to be a famous singer. Smile, look pretty, and treat everyone you meet like they're worth something. Otherwise break a high heel and tear an Achilles in the process you whore.

I'm sure young people have something good to offer. We have already given you Lady Gaga songs, Zac Efron movies, and other amazing art that puts the Italian Renaissance to shame. I ask you, what is it you hate about young people? Is there anything to like besides smooth skin?

Gummy Bastards: Originally Posted 5/29/2012

Imagine this paragraph appearing like the opening text to Star Wars. You know, that yellow slanted moving impossible to read font. Anyway, long ago in a town about 35 miles away, there was a family that lived next door to me. No. Not that family. The other side. The ones that were actually a family and not a woman who liked to cut down trees and sleep with men who drove dirty trucks. The ones on the right if you're looking at my old house are the ones I'm talking about. This was a family who declared war on mine. Things never got out of hand, but they were entertaining enough for me to write about.

Okay, that was not as epic as I had thought it would be. Kind of like the entire Star Wars franchise. I think I just heard a nerd blow his brains out.

The family in question consisted of a mom, a dad, a daughter, and a son. This is the ideal for any family who is not Chinese. Their ideal family would be a son, a son, a son, and a robot. This family was nothing close to ideal. They were evil. Being mean and aggressive was the way they chose to live their lives. And that brought out the demons in us all.

Mainly battles between our two clans took place over cat poop. They insisted our cats were pooping on their property. I would argue today that the banks own property and they should take it up with them, but back then I still had hope that Democracy was real. I'm sure our cats really were pooping on the lawn and I can see how that might be annoying. Even more annoying was when they'd put the cat poop in a bag and leave it near our mailbox. No stamp was ever placed on the bag so it wasn't like they were trying to send it anywhere. It would be ridiculous if they placed the stamp on the actual poop. How's the mailman supposed to see that anyway?

Eventually things toned down and I'm sure there was a lot of yelling between parents that I never paid attention to. Our cats died and a few times we still had cat poop arrive at our mailbox. I think one time I threw it onto their roof. I don't remember for sure. I do remember once when they were out at a soccer game I accidentally dropped a stink bomb and before it could fully shatter I broke it on their front door. They arrived home to a horrendous smell. This was a wonderful victory at my own hands.

Another issue between us was that of balls traveling through the yards. We had an unwritten policy about returning balls to each other if we found them in our yards. The continued without problems until they didn't return one of my balls. Then it was fair game. My first dog Baylee popped a blow up ball of theirs. Another time, our family's second dog McGwire grabbed a ball and took it up to our deck. I remember sitting on the back deck while the kids next door were outside. At this point I was scary looking and fat. They weren't about to ask me for their ball back so they just stood there hoping I could read minds. I can't. So the ball sat on our deck until it slowly deflated itself. A perfectly good ball ruined because they were bitches.

I only remember going into their house one time in all the years we lived next door to one another. Their backyard, a few times, but actually inside once. I had returned home from school and neither of my parents was home. It was probably St. Patrick's Day, Cinco de Mayo, or a work day when "mommy and daddy need a drink to help them with stress." The neighbors let me hang at their house for about a half hour. All I remember doing was hiding under a blanket with the girl who lived there. Nothing happened. I didn't want it to because I already knew their dirty secret. They were gummy bastards.

What is a gummy bastard? A gummy bastard is a next door neighbor of mine. More specifically they were the family who had these strange things on the tops of each of their heads. The dad had it, the daughter had it, and the ginger son had it. I must have been playing a game of lice check with the daughter when I first noticed a big red deformity poking out from the top of her head. I poked at it because that seemed like the only thing to do. It felt like a gummy bear. But we certainly couldn't call the family the Gummy Bears. They were not bears. They were bastards. Hence the name, the Gummy Bastards.

I'm not exactly sure why we really hated each other. I guess that's just what neighbors do. You find things to be disgusted about one another. It's natural though. When you are forced to see the same ugly faces everyday only feet away from where you rest your head at night you're going to grow to hate them. They were everything my family wasn't. They were social, had family friends, athletic kids, their father smoked cigars instead of cigarettes like my dad did, their mom jogged while mine watched Dawson's Creek, the daughter's nickname was Cookie for some diabetic reason while my sister's nickname was bear for reasons that made sense at the time, and their son was a Ginger while I had the hair color of champions, dirty blondish brown. All that separated us was a damn fruit snack on top of the head. Could it have been the source of their bastardness? The hair to their Samson. The genitals to their Ron Jeremy. The being married to the executive of E! to their Chelsea Handler. I can only speculate what it was. What I do know is that they were animal hating bastards. I hope a loud black family moved into our house after we left you gummy bastards.

***

What Are Your Favorite Movies?

Movies are one of the most universally appreciated forms of entertainment. Two people with completely different belief systems can manage to bond over a favorite film. Talking about movies on a blog is always a relatable topic just about anyone can enjoy.

Rather than simply reviewing movies like everybody else, you will want to stand out. Go further than the average person. Don't stop at telling us whether or not the movie was good or not. Compare it to something else. Let us know some strange thought you had while watching the movie even if it seems miniscule. It's those little ideas we throw away that sometimes turn into something so much more.

Unknown Origins: Originally Posted 10/18/2011

When I watched the film Schindler's List I noticed something. It wasn't how I laughed more at this movie than I did in all of Dodgeball which is complete fact. Schindler's List had one funny scene in it and this scene got my goat. Oscar is in need of a new secretary and holds a tryout. He is very interested in all of the young and attractive women who come out for the job. Many of them type poorly, hunting and pecking. Then, it cuts to a fat woman typing marvelously. Oscar Schindler could not care less. It's not a genius comedy moment but in such a serious movie it was nice to see Spielberg say how sexually unappealing fat women are, even if they are efficient at their jobs. The rest of the movie was very serious except for the scene where the Three Stooges have to disguise themselves as S.S. Officers. Larry accidentally swings a ladder and knocks Hitler out of a German castle, thus ending the war.

None of what I have said so far is the point I want to mention. What I want to say is a question. I began watching Band of Brothers and there was a concentration camp scene in it. That re-sparked a question in my head I've thought about in the past. Where do they find these actors to play Holocaust victims?

I can't imagine a human being much thinner than those I have seen wearing striped pajamas in film and television. They look very realistic, like they really had been through a lot of concentration camp horrors. You can see all of their bones; some of the men must weigh 80 pounds. I guess some of it is CGI (I use that word having no idea what it means) but it all still looks incredibly real so I don't buy it.

There must be an agency out there in Hollywood. They only hire very thin actors for such a role. They give them diets of apple cores and are only allowed to drink whatever they can lick off a celery stick. That's the only way to get a Holocaust film body at least as far as I know.

It's got to be a tough gig to be an actor who plays someone living through the Holocaust. You really have to treat your body poorly for a non-speaking role. Your whole film career involves having dirt on your face and crying over a fake dead body that's supposed to be your brother. In a way, actors who play Holocaust victims are the Holocaust victims of actors. I know that's a stretch, probably insensitive to people who actually did suffer through the Holocaust to compare the two. But I don't know. If I survived the most famous genocide in human history I wouldn't really care what people thought about me. Being compared to a no-name actor wouldn't bother me very much. I survived months or years in a Nazi work camp. I'm the fucking shit.

There are still so many questions I want to ask these actors. Are you always this thin? Does it hurt to look that way? Are you even Jewish? In a way, it sort of mocks what the people went through in those camps by treating your body the same way. I know it's essential to prove a point visually, but still, why not make all of the Germans really fat and the Jews can just be kind of thin? If all the Nazis were 250-300 pounds, a 130 pound twink would look like he was knocking on death's door. But then we always have ourselves to compare it to and we'll just hate the Germans even more for being fat. There really is no solution.

I did some research online to see if there was an easy answer out there. I was met with a dead-end and gave up after the first link I clicked on didn't fully answer my question. I think this is one of those questions with no answer like the meaning of life or the real average size of a man's penis. We'd all love to know these things, but we're not meant to. To you Holocaust Survivors and actors who play Holocaust Survivors, I salute you. The former for being brave and strong for living through the toughest of times. The latter for making me scratch my head as to where your origins lie.

Visual Stimulations: Original Posted 5/19/2012

I've never been too into pornography. I know, a male born between the years of ever to present not being all that interested in porn sounds like a lie. I must be a rare commodity. I'm one in a million for real. I should tell this to girls more often. Say to them "Hey I'm not really into looking at other people having sex. I truly am unique." then they feel silly because we just met and they're handing me back my change. Do you know what I hate about getting back change? I hate it when I get more than quarters in change back. I feel like they judge me when I keep the quarters. I need to do my laundry somehow. My breath, arm pits, belly button, and ass smell bad enough without having to wear dirty clothes. Don't look at me funny when you see me going through my change. I'm doing it for your nostrils Indian woman at Dunkin Donuts with the nose stud. Stop trying to look 13. End Andy Rooney rant.

Despite my lack of pornographic aficionado-ism I do like looking as sexy images. Mostly in movies though. Without having the Internet at home or cable I have to make do with the DVDs I own. Problem is I don't really own any romantic comedies. Say what you want about their implausible plots and predictable endings. The stars of these films are usually attractive in some shape or form. All you have to do is ignore the crappy jokes, the moments of socially awkward attractive women falling down way more than humanly possible, and the tall handsome blue-collar men with beards that seem to have gone unnoticed by all other women on the planet who aren't starring in this movie.

I'm looking at my DVD collection. That's actually a lie. I'm sitting on my couch in the dark typing while sitting on a blanket with butterflies on it. Let's pretend I'm standing near my DVD shelf which also contains batteries, thank you cards, and a fingernail. Some of these movies are sexier than others. There isn't much visual stimulation in some of them though. You may have to be a bit of a movie buff to know the exact scenes I'm talking about. If you're unsure you should go out and watch it. Most of them are pretty old so I guess you can't go out and watch them unless you're one of those weird people who watch movies on their laptops outside. You don't know how much I hope a rainstorm damages your movie night.

Full Metal Jacket: Not a sexy film by any means. It's a mostly male cast which could be a problem for a 110% straight guy like me. I can't even eat the ends of hot dogs or mushrooms because of what they remind me of, penises. I guess the best scenes to look at for sexual stimulation would be the famous "Me So Horny" part or the end when they kill the female sniper and she begs them to kill her. Sorry if that's a spoiler. The movie is as old as I am. If you haven't seen it yet that's your own fault. The "Me So Horny, Me Love You Long Time" chick isn't that terrible to look at. At least she's not dying like the sniper in the last scene. I choose that part, the one with the Vietnamese prostitute over the one with the dying Vietnamese sniper. There's nothing sexy about dying. The Grim Reaper doesn't have enough sex appeal for me to ever enjoy it.

Reservoir Dogs: Again, this film has a mostly male cast. The only instance I remember a woman appearing was the pregnant chick Mr. Orange shoots in the car. You can't really tell that she's pregnant or anything. She's only on-screen for a brief moment. What this means is I wouldn't feel creepy being aroused by an expecting mother. She does reach for a gun in her glove compartment and that's what gets her shot. Chicks with guns are always sexy. I've never shot a gun, but would love a subscription to a magazine like "Babes & Ammo" if that's even real. I'd go into something critical of the jumper the woman wears in the scene, but I won't because I'm not quite sure if that's what she was wearing or even what a jumper is. There's not much of a choice for this film. I have to go with the pregnant lady who gets shot by Tim Roth.

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly: I sure do love guy movies with guns. This Clint Eastwood classic, everything but the wagon painting shit of his is classic, does contain a few more women than the previously mentioned. There's the Spanish woman in the beginning whose husband gets killed. I don't think she talks at all which is a plus when it comes to women. Then there's the part when Angel Eyes finds the woman in the hotel and smacks her around a bit. Again, a very arousing scene to see a woman get slapped by a renegade cowboy. I'm kidding, sort of. There's also a fat woman during one of the hanging scenes with large breasts. She doesn't do much other than act disgusted at the crimes committed by Tuco, the Ugly. Am I boring you with my knowledge of this film? It's my favorite so excuse me. Clint Eastwood at this point in his life kind of had a female model's body too. He was really tall and thin. If it wasn't for his five o'clock shadow I would consider any scene he was in as visually stimulating.

The Mighty Ducks/The Sandlot: These are just about the same film. I was going to put Bad News Bears in here but don't feel like trying to come up with a reason why I find either Tanner Boyle from the original or remake sexy. The Mighty Ducks and The Sandlot mostly only have the moms who are sexy, sort of. The mom in The Mighty Ducks is a widow. You know what that means. She's desperate for attention! The mom in The Sandlot has remarried Denis Leary. All this means is she doesn't mind having sex with Bill Hicks cover-comedians. I think the mom might also be Karen Allen who for some reason I do have sexual tension with. Yes, tension. The Sandlot also has the hot lifeguard. If she wasn't 18 when that was filmed add in "hot to the children" to the last statement so I am not arrested.

Fahrenheit 9/11: Politics aside, this was a pretty good film. I agree less and less with Michael Moore the "moore" he opens up his fat mouth. I like how his last name is Moore because that's always what he asks for, more. I know, silly fat joke. But stop complaining about the economy. You're fat. You're clearly doing well. I haven't watched this film in a while. But if I had to find something visually stimulating about it I'd probably have to go with clips of Condoleeza Rice. She doesn't really do anything for me in normal situations, but we're going hypothetical. If I had never seen a woman before then sure, why not get with Condy? She's got a nice smile--if you squint. She's a powerful dominant woman who has proven she can carry her own. That's got to be a turn on for me, right? Okay, maybe I'll skip this one. All of the 9/11 footage would make it almost impossible to get aroused at all. You could throw as many nude girls as you want at me during this film, I just don't think I could get anything out of it.

Quitters: Originally Posted 10/8/2011

"Stick to your day job."

If you suck at anything, you've heard that phrase. I've heard it once and it was at my day job. My boss said it. This was her way of telling me to stay around and get a promotion. Now I make lots of money and am the head of the western sales region. I'm glad I stuck with my day job!

I didn't quit. If the above fictitious story tells you anything, it's not to quit. Sometimes it's good to be a quitter. Here are two people who I wouldn't mind quitting.

1) Tim Burton

He has not made a good movie since 1998. And by good I mean entertaining and somewhat original. Sleepy Hollow did exactly what I wanted it to do for me. It had me entertained. The pedophile from Ferris Bueller's Day Off gets his head caved in which was awesome. Johnny Rico from Starship Troopers gets his head chopped off next to a bridge which was even better. And Christopher Walken made a cameo as a Hessian only to get his head chopped off and then buried separately from his body. I think I've sold you a copy.

Tim Burton to me is the most unoriginal filmmaker out there. He can't make an original movie. All of his ideas are stolen now. It's like he had some great original ideas (Nightmare Before Christmas, Edward Scissorhands) and then stopped caring. He got married to the chick from Fight Club which I think may have something to do with it. I like all Tim Burton's movies pre-Fight Club. The first two Batman movies were awesome, much better than the stupid Batman Begins or Dark Knight scenes without The Joker. Batman Begins was terrible. The Scarecrow was barely in it. What the hell man? He's one of the best obscure villains and he's barely in it. Plus you got that dick-sucking-lipped Cillian Murphy to play him. I don't have a problem with Cillian Murphy. I just think he should be doing gay porn instead of playing comic book villains.

In this century, Tim Burton has made nothing but duds. Corpse Bride was just Nightmare Before Christmas with a blue chick. Why not just make it a sequel? At least then you'd be stealing your own ideas. He did Charlie and the Chocolate Factory which was dreadful. The original film is a classic. It made me want to eat chocolate nonstop and that's all I ever remembered doing as a kid. They didn't even have music in Mr. Burton's version. I guess he made up for it with the lousy Sweeney Todd, ripping off the musical of the same name. Look, a movie with Johnny Depp and Helen Bonham Carter, your wife. This isn't like anything else I've seen. More recently he had Alice in Wonderland come out. For some reason, he thought it would be cool to have Alice be the heir of a world traveler and at the end she would suggest that her dead father's friends trade with China. What the fuck? You learned all that from talking animals, a pot smoking caterpillar, and Burton's butt buddies Johnny Depp and Helen Bonham Carter? Shit. I don't care if you're "following the original stories" more closely. The reason the original films were made the way they were is because the original stories had flaws. People who want to know the original stories will, guess what, read the book!

I have now sworn off seeing any more Tim Burton movies. I have had it with him. I was very excited about Alice in Wonderland, a dark version of it that shouldn't have ended with Johnny Depp doing a dumb dance. It was shit. Any movie with Johnny Depp is fantastic except when he dances. Please Mr. Depp, if you happen to be browsing every website with your name on it, stop dancing in your movies. Why do I get the feeling the Illuminati will force him to do a Dirty Dancing remake just to piss me off?

2) M. Night Shyamalan

He's become a parody of himself. The Twilight Zone was a half hour show for a reason. 80 minutes of boring dialogue with a pretty setting doesn't cut it for an implausible twist.

M.'s first movie that really made it big was of course The Sixth Sense. He had another before which had Rosie O'Donnell playing a nun. I remember the trailer for this too and the main kid in the movie saying "You're so pretty you could be in a calendar." That line of course not being said to Ms. O'Donnell. She's not even pretty enough to be the shit stain on a toilet seat. Everybody agrees The Sixth Sense was his best movie. It caught everybody off guard and a kid outside of the theater where I saw it said "That was the best movie I ever saw!" Kids know best. That's why Justin Bieber has like a billion dollars. Christ I wish I was still blonde.

Then came Unbreakable and Signs which people seemed to enjoy. They were entertaining, dark, and had big names in them. That's what gets people to go to the movies, a recognizable name. A person is his own product. Maybe that's where he went wrong with his first real dud, The Village.

The Village had Adrien Brody, Sigourney Weaver, and Richie Cunningham from Happy Day's daughter in it. The main star of the entire film was Joaquin Phoenix, a guy who was raised in a cult of nuts and the one we all wish had turned out like River instead. He tried to act silly and doing weird schtick to get hype for a movie about him wanting to be a rapper, but it was all fake and nobody cared. He has a hair lip and he's not as handsome as his dead brother. That was M.'s problem. He could write movies about ghosts but he can only get the surviving family members of those ghosts to actually play a role in his films.

Lady in the Water came around at some point. So did The Happening. Those two get lumped together. Nobody likes them. My dad told me to buy his girlfriend Lady in the Water for her birthday one year. I warned him and now he has to breathe through his neck thanks to a stab wound. A friend of mine liked The Happening and owns it. The movie sold three copies total in the entire world. The other two were by suicide bombers needing something cheap to place their bomb wires in.

Somewhere in there M. tried to change genres. He made The Last Airbender. I guess this was a "twist" on his life. Nobody liked the movie and it's probably because they didn't know it was based on something that already sucked. It's the only movie of his I haven't at least seen a part of. I never will either. Bending air sounds lame and if it's the last then it looks like I have a lot of catching up to do! That's your cue to as the kids say, "lol."

From ghosts, to aliens, to plants making people commit suicide, M. has jumped the shark. If he doesn't get what that means, go ask Richie Cunningham's daughter who you seem to be so fond of. Her uncle Arthur Fonzerelli can explain it.

"Ehhh!" - The Fonz or every Canadian falling to his death

Board Game Movies 3/10/2012

I saw a movie trailer for a film called Battleship recently. This cannot possibly be based off of the board game with the same name. There's no way Satan has that much influence on Hollywood. No way. I'm not willing to believe it. People are giving out money, millions of dollars, to create a movie not only based on a board game but also one that looks so incredibly lame? So here you go Hollywood. Come steal my ideas. I want nothing to with these awful movie ideas based off of classic board games.

Twister: Five of the most flexible gymnasts from around the world wake up in a room with nothing but a Twister board, a spinner, and a clock that will run out in 60 minutes. A weird video plays for them describing that when the 60 minutes is up they will all be killed unless one winner of the classic board game is declared. The five soon begin to grow suspicious of each other that they aren't who they each say they are. Look for lots of "twists" and "turns" because each person takes a turn. That's where that part comes into play. Get it?

Scrabble: In the not too distant future tablets have been discovered in an ancient Mayan cave. Legend has it that a code lies within the letters provided. Four family members set out to crack the code for an evening of what they thought was fun. It soon turns deadly because movies aren't good when nobody dies.

Connect Four: A young teenage boy is suspicious of his sister. During a game of Connect Four, she completes a very sneaky move. The rest of the film doesn't have much to do with the board game. It's mostly about a cute discovery of the relationship between a brother and a sister. There's also a ghost.

Gator Golf: Tad Hendrickson is your average lawyer. He screws people over, he's going to hell, and he enjoys putting golf balls into the mouths of animals. What happens when he putts a ball into the wrong one's mouth? It eats his family. That's what happens. And what happens when Tad realizes the golf ball he putted into that alligator's mouth is worth millions of dollars as it wasn't really a golf ball, but rather the testicle of Julius Caesar? You'll have to watch to find out that he gets eaten in the end. Oops. Did I spoil it?

Don't Wake Daddy: Four abused children want to head to the kitchen for a late night snack. Their evil father, played by Tom Hanks, voiceover done from clips of Bea Arthur, wants to starve them to death. The foursome dare out of the bedroom for a bite to eat in hopes of not dying. The key to their mission, not to wake daddy, as the title suggests.

Apples to Apples: A bunch of drunk friends in their 20s gather together for a game of Apples to Apples. What they forgot to do was invite their good friend Ernie, the loner fat kid from work. Ernie gets wind and feels really bad about this. He gets vengeance by killing his coworkers one by one. He makes sure to do it using whatever adjective he draws from the deck.

Strat-O-Matic Baseball: Dictatorial baseball owner Greg Steinbender has come to a crossroads this season. His team, the New York City Americans, aren't doing too well. He decides to spend millions of dollars in free agent signings thus helping to create a future problem known as the 1%. Other owners follow the tradition and soon athletes in every sport are paid way too much. Based on true events.

Gooey Louie: Louie is your average kid. He picks his friends, he picks his nose, and he never picks his friend's noses. What happens is while picking his nose on the school bus ride to school there is a terrible accident. His brain shoots out of his head yet somehow Louie survives. He's a medical miracle. Scientists do tests on him and realize they made a mistake. Louie was dead all along and his real name is Bernie. This is all just a way for a new Weekend at Bernie's film to be created.

Monopoly: What do a racecar, a thimble, and a few other tiny metallic objects have in common? They're buying up property in Atlantic City! Mayor of the city, Mr. Moneybags, has been taken hostage by terrorists. A clause has been found at the municipal building claiming that if terrorists ever take the mayor hostage all property ownership is open to be bought. Watch as these random items bid to buy streets and cover them in hotels with their ultimate goal of breaking the law by creating a monopoly.

Operation: Presidential Candidate Barry Fuchenbottom falls ill a week before the election. He has butterflies in his stomach, water on the knee, and a charley horse. An actual horse in his leg! It's up to a team of surgeons to get together to remove these items from his body. Thing is, Fuckenbottom needs the surgery done pronto and without anyone touching the sides while pulling these foreign objects from his body. If they do, he makes a loud buzzing sound.

Guess Who?: In a politically incorrect world, a murder has been committed. The only witness, a teenage mobster with a heart of gold. Detective Pete Peterson and Doc Tubbs play a little good cop, bad cop with the teen. He won't talk and give out names, but what he will do is give details on what the murderer looked like. Using the facial flaws of a group of the usual suspects, Peterson and Tubbs have a 10 minute task ahead of them. Does this movie have a beard? No. Movies can't have beards.

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Thank you for reading. Please visit my blog for more musings like this. And while you're at it, start your own awesome blog.

Blog: http://mooselicker.wordpress.com

Email: TimBoyle109@yahoo.com

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/mrtimboyle

Twitter: @warlordtimboyle

Check out these other works by Tim Boyle:

Satan: Little League Superstar

Silence: My Worst Stand Up Comedy Performances and Experiences

Surviving Sandy: A Battle Against That Deadly Whore Mother Nature
