this could easily be considered my new theme song
Friday, December 31, 2010
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Hoooowwwwwwwwdy Ho!
So as some of you may know either by word of mouth or perhaps you’ve had the good fortune of running into me over the last week, I spent Christmas break in the dirty dirt…Cape Cod. The following dissertation is a short (relatively considering the time span I’m covering) summation of the events that transpired.
First, I did not see any good Christmas-y movies while at home. If I have to turn to TNT and see Lord of the Rings, any one of that shitty trilogy, one more time I’m going to lose it. Seriously, if you added up the total time that movie’s plot centers around Frodo being a pussy (clutching his chest, zoning out, thinking about mutual masturbation with Sam Gamgee, etc..) you would have an entire movie in and of itself.
Another thing that upset me is that not only did I not see Rudolph and the Island of Misfit Toys or a single Bondathon, I didn’t see Home Alone. Clearly a front runner for best Christmas movie of all time (and the source of my whistling this song while running through the airport to catch my plane [got some weird looks]), Home Alone is pretty much the perfect movie. It has a cute kid, inept villans, and of course the quotable lines to match. “Buzz’s girlfriend…woof”. I think I would have made a great Macauly Caulkin as my ability to rig booby traps is unparalleled. More on this later.
Seriously, how good is Independence day?
Another thing: Elf is not a good movie and Seth Rogan isn’t funny. But you know what isn’t funny: double entendres. John and I were being a couple guys in the city and saw many friends while doing so but I must say we unearthed many delightful double entendres. Maybe it was all the sexually charged and explicit art in the museum of fine art, maybe it was our immature sense of humor, I don’t know. But what I do know was that I must have made a pun on Santa Clause coming (cumming) this weekend at least twice an hour. Each time was funnier than the last. The best one to present itself came when we were on a jam packed T. John turns to me and says:
“There sure are a lot of people on this train. I don’t know if we’re going to be able to get off. I’ve never got off with this many people around before. Exiting the train will be difficult, too.” Excellent.
However, double entendres aren’t for everyone. Only the pure of heart and immature of mind. Exhibit A with Mr. Brovosel over gtalk in discussion the massive storm hitting the northeast.
me: how many inches you got now?
Mike: jeez probably like 6-8 by now
Me: and how much snow?
Mike: ?
Eh…You can’t win them all.
One thing I did notice is that in life, unlike college, Christmas break is only a week long. When it came down to it, I never did want to be away from the big old Dartmouth D much longer than that anyways. But I will say, it is strange going from a good 3 months off every year to fighting for 2 weeks. Life doesn’t suck and it’s not all that difficult and never having finals again does help things…But I will say this: “it’s just not college.” Take from that what you will.
Other than being a guy in Boston, I attended several Christmas parties. One of note was for my friend Nicci “Del Nicca” Laliberte. Her parents were there and it was just me. Being from the land of Bourbon, I had to settle for a drink offered to me of Southern Comfort. Needless to say, I didn’t stop at just one and managed to get pretty drunk. Luckily, my sister was picking me up and the last thing I remember is getting Nicci’s father’s business card because he’s coming to Louisville “sometime in the spring” and I promised to show him around. I imagine if I ever email him, we’ll meet up and sniff out all the good tittie bars in town. That promise is just vague enough for me to keep.
We had a huge snow storm last Sunday night on the Cape and I was charged with the task of digging my entire family out of it. There must have been about 10 inches. A lot of snow, too. And because my mother is a 100 pound old lady and I wouldn’t let her shovel, my father injured his wrist “chopping wood” (auto erotic esphixiation), and my sister always seemed to have something else to do, I had to undertake the task on my own.
Other than that, not a whole lot of things are new. I’m back in the Ville and ready to start pushing the white (man’s) goods again. Big win for the pats today. SUPERBOWL BABY!!
After the first of the year, I’ll be ready to start taking reservations for Derby. Carmody already called a spot. Please submit your clown resume and let me know.
All best,
Me
First, I did not see any good Christmas-y movies while at home. If I have to turn to TNT and see Lord of the Rings, any one of that shitty trilogy, one more time I’m going to lose it. Seriously, if you added up the total time that movie’s plot centers around Frodo being a pussy (clutching his chest, zoning out, thinking about mutual masturbation with Sam Gamgee, etc..) you would have an entire movie in and of itself.
Another thing that upset me is that not only did I not see Rudolph and the Island of Misfit Toys or a single Bondathon, I didn’t see Home Alone. Clearly a front runner for best Christmas movie of all time (and the source of my whistling this song while running through the airport to catch my plane [got some weird looks]), Home Alone is pretty much the perfect movie. It has a cute kid, inept villans, and of course the quotable lines to match. “Buzz’s girlfriend…woof”. I think I would have made a great Macauly Caulkin as my ability to rig booby traps is unparalleled. More on this later.
Seriously, how good is Independence day?
Another thing: Elf is not a good movie and Seth Rogan isn’t funny. But you know what isn’t funny: double entendres. John and I were being a couple guys in the city and saw many friends while doing so but I must say we unearthed many delightful double entendres. Maybe it was all the sexually charged and explicit art in the museum of fine art, maybe it was our immature sense of humor, I don’t know. But what I do know was that I must have made a pun on Santa Clause coming (cumming) this weekend at least twice an hour. Each time was funnier than the last. The best one to present itself came when we were on a jam packed T. John turns to me and says:
“There sure are a lot of people on this train. I don’t know if we’re going to be able to get off. I’ve never got off with this many people around before. Exiting the train will be difficult, too.” Excellent.
However, double entendres aren’t for everyone. Only the pure of heart and immature of mind. Exhibit A with Mr. Brovosel over gtalk in discussion the massive storm hitting the northeast.
me: how many inches you got now?
Mike: jeez probably like 6-8 by now
Me: and how much snow?
Mike: ?
Eh…You can’t win them all.
One thing I did notice is that in life, unlike college, Christmas break is only a week long. When it came down to it, I never did want to be away from the big old Dartmouth D much longer than that anyways. But I will say, it is strange going from a good 3 months off every year to fighting for 2 weeks. Life doesn’t suck and it’s not all that difficult and never having finals again does help things…But I will say this: “it’s just not college.” Take from that what you will.
Other than being a guy in Boston, I attended several Christmas parties. One of note was for my friend Nicci “Del Nicca” Laliberte. Her parents were there and it was just me. Being from the land of Bourbon, I had to settle for a drink offered to me of Southern Comfort. Needless to say, I didn’t stop at just one and managed to get pretty drunk. Luckily, my sister was picking me up and the last thing I remember is getting Nicci’s father’s business card because he’s coming to Louisville “sometime in the spring” and I promised to show him around. I imagine if I ever email him, we’ll meet up and sniff out all the good tittie bars in town. That promise is just vague enough for me to keep.
We had a huge snow storm last Sunday night on the Cape and I was charged with the task of digging my entire family out of it. There must have been about 10 inches. A lot of snow, too. And because my mother is a 100 pound old lady and I wouldn’t let her shovel, my father injured his wrist “chopping wood” (auto erotic esphixiation), and my sister always seemed to have something else to do, I had to undertake the task on my own.
Other than that, not a whole lot of things are new. I’m back in the Ville and ready to start pushing the white (man’s) goods again. Big win for the pats today. SUPERBOWL BABY!!
After the first of the year, I’ll be ready to start taking reservations for Derby. Carmody already called a spot. Please submit your clown resume and let me know.
All best,
Me
Monday, December 20, 2010
Deep Thoughts with Jly
Being home for a couple days now has brought many changes to my life. I have been sleeping more, drinking less, and by far the most frustrating part is that I have been seeing a lot more commercials. Back in KY I had rich people TV and almost exclusively alternated between Sportscenter and HBO. Good thing I’m at home for a week because I can really only watch Jaws so many times. Hopefully by the time I get back to KY there will be a different movie on HBO all day every day.
But I digress…
My point being that I have had it with Christmas commercials already. Most Christmas commercials are awful with their horrible renditions of already bad Christmas songs that urge people to buy useless crap at their store instead of someone else’s. But I must say that I need to separate Christmas car commercials from the pack. Every single one of them upsets me to no end as they advertise as if people are in the habit of buying cars for each other for Christmas. “This Christmas, unwrap something special in your driveway.”
Seriously, if I come across someone out there takes these commercials to heart, I’m just going to lose it. What the fuck? I’m poor, I don’t have money, the last thing I’m going to buy someone is a hotwheels matchbox car let alone a real car.
I have to wonder, are there actually people out there that see these commercials and think “Eureka! That’s it! I was wondering what I would get Jamie for Christmas and heavens be, I don’t have to wonder anymore!” Seriously give me a fucking break. No one can afford a car for themselves they are not going to buy a car for a family member let alone a car that’s wrapped in a big red bow. And if you expect me to believe that Santa Clause does commercials for every car company that exists, you are sorely mistaken. Seriously, fucking had it.
But I digress…
My point being that I have had it with Christmas commercials already. Most Christmas commercials are awful with their horrible renditions of already bad Christmas songs that urge people to buy useless crap at their store instead of someone else’s. But I must say that I need to separate Christmas car commercials from the pack. Every single one of them upsets me to no end as they advertise as if people are in the habit of buying cars for each other for Christmas. “This Christmas, unwrap something special in your driveway.”
Seriously, if I come across someone out there takes these commercials to heart, I’m just going to lose it. What the fuck? I’m poor, I don’t have money, the last thing I’m going to buy someone is a hotwheels matchbox car let alone a real car.
I have to wonder, are there actually people out there that see these commercials and think “Eureka! That’s it! I was wondering what I would get Jamie for Christmas and heavens be, I don’t have to wonder anymore!” Seriously give me a fucking break. No one can afford a car for themselves they are not going to buy a car for a family member let alone a car that’s wrapped in a big red bow. And if you expect me to believe that Santa Clause does commercials for every car company that exists, you are sorely mistaken. Seriously, fucking had it.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Wicks
I hit up wicks again tonight for all you can eat beer plus free pizza and I can tell you that it did not dissapoint. There really is very little negative that I can say about that place. So much so, that I can listen to Mariah Carey right now and still come up with nothing bad. Really that isn't a cheap shot at her because I love most of what she does but my point still remains that Wednesday night Wicks is amazing and I am terrible at dancing with girls excepting my 2 inches away from her grind the shit out of her move. Very old trick and absolutely flawless and completely precedented.
Which brings me to my next point: Deep thoughts with Jly.
Okay say everyone knows about one hit wonders. When the song "Save Tonight" by Eagle Eye Cherry comes on you can now have more fun than you've been having up until this point.
No lies, no discrepencies, that is a great song. But everytime you hear it come on and you see every girl at the bar ruin a good pair of shirts by moisturizing everywhere, you can finally turn to a girl and say "hey what's your SECOND favorite Eagle Eye Cherry song". After being stumped for a couple minutes you can both agree that Eagle Eye Cherry only came out with one good song.
WRONG.
After those few mintues, turn to her and say "well my SECOND favorite Eagle Eye Cherry song is 'Save Tonight'". This cannot help but beg the question, "well if his second favorite is Save Tonight there has got to be an incredible Eagle Eye Cherry song out there that I don't even know about. I mean, Save Tonight makes my Giney tingle fer serious. If he knows a better song than that I will definitely perform felacio and perhaps a 69 position."
Exactly. Give that a shot. You're welcome.
Which brings me to my next point: Deep thoughts with Jly.
Okay say everyone knows about one hit wonders. When the song "Save Tonight" by Eagle Eye Cherry comes on you can now have more fun than you've been having up until this point.
No lies, no discrepencies, that is a great song. But everytime you hear it come on and you see every girl at the bar ruin a good pair of shirts by moisturizing everywhere, you can finally turn to a girl and say "hey what's your SECOND favorite Eagle Eye Cherry song". After being stumped for a couple minutes you can both agree that Eagle Eye Cherry only came out with one good song.
WRONG.
After those few mintues, turn to her and say "well my SECOND favorite Eagle Eye Cherry song is 'Save Tonight'". This cannot help but beg the question, "well if his second favorite is Save Tonight there has got to be an incredible Eagle Eye Cherry song out there that I don't even know about. I mean, Save Tonight makes my Giney tingle fer serious. If he knows a better song than that I will definitely perform felacio and perhaps a 69 position."
Exactly. Give that a shot. You're welcome.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Festivities!
On Tuesday I went to my friend’s house to hang out and play this game called Phase 10. Pretty tight little card game of which I am still not one hundred percent on the rules. That sentence doesn’t make sense. Roll with it. Anyways, had some beers there (Shiner Bock brewed in Shiner, TX and nowhere else) and soon it was time for me to go home for sleeping. I headed out the door with two bottles of beer in my hand (closed of course) and started down the stairs. Boat shoes and ice do not mix well. I slipped on the landing and ate shit so fucking hard. Both bottles smashed and I shredded up my arm. I don’t know how because I had a long sleeve shirt and a sweatshirt on but it happened. I immediately started hemorrhaging blood. Seriously I have never bled this hard before . I got to my car and wrapped my arm with directions from mapquest and duct taped it so it would stay on. Hard guy. I didn’t stop bleeding for like 2 hours and it was disgusting. Arm still hurts.
I hit up Wicks on Wednesday for all you can eat beer with free pizza for 10 dollars. Place is the shit. So Mikey P and I were eating as much beer as we could and these two girls were sitting next to us. Not that it matters, but they were black. One was from Spanish Harlem and one was from Mobile Alabama. The one from Spanish Harlem looked like a goddess and the one from Mobile looked like she was from Mobile and could teach us things in the bedroom that we’ve never even seen on the internet. Both were very attractive but Mike and I had a suspicion that they might be a little light in their loafers.
The most striking thing about these girls wasn’t that they were so hot or that they were actually talking to us, but it was that they were so athletic (read) and their names sounded like they should be daughtes of a president. I was taken aback because I was expecting Chantal or something a little more athletic and their names turned out to be Lauren and Amanda. It was awesome. But these girls were hilarious and we weren’t even trying to smush we were genuinely enjoying their company. Then Mike and I started thinking how awesome it would be to get their numbers so that we could hang out with them. Maybe we’d be headed to a house party at another of our friend’s house and we’d ask “hey is it cool if our friends Lauren and Amanda come too?” The answer would obviously be yes and imagine how surprised everyone would be when Lauren and Amanda showed up. They were probably thinking the same thing but reverse. “How awesome would it be to just hang out with these white guys? Maybe we could just take down these white guys tonight” Then we started doing trivia. I asked her what Eminem’s real name was and Lauren said all the states in alphabetical order. She said that meant that I had to buy her a shot. I said “no I don’t think that’s what it means.” Long story short: didn’t get their numbers but I hope to see them again this coming Wednesday. It was awesome at the time, trust me. Maybe I’ll buy her a shot next time.
Friday we hit up the old 2 hour lunch trick at Hooters with all of the CTPs and split a couple pitchers. It made the afternoon much better. Lunch beers.
That night I went to my friend Lauren Roberts’ house and we partied. I wore my fluorescent ski jacket and hope John, wherever he was, was wearing his interplanetary body gear jacket as well. I became a very powerful wizard that night as my staff was longer than it has been in a long time. I had a big wizard staff too. Then I got way too drunk. I was thinking today that my tolerance is down. I used to be able to not get so drunk. But then it occurred to me that drinking 18 beers will get you drunk no matter how high your tolerance is. Quite the revelation. I saw a picture of a girl on facebook that had the same exact inflatable sea horse from Morparty week. Identical. That was cool. Then we went to this bar called Molly Malone’s. I still had my duct tape with me but thankfully I had the wherewithal to take my pedometer off so I didn’t lose it. I was functioning pretty well although I was plastered. I started asking people who were dancing if I could duct tape their hands together. Since no one could take me seriously in my ostentatious ski jacket, many people obliged. I had an extensive conversation with the bouncer about how I loved his overalls and told him how my name was Jason and was looking for a pair of overalls to go with my Jason mask so I could kill people with chainsaws. He suggested a few places in town I might check for some nice overalls. Great gentlemen.
That is a weeks worth of stuff. Tonight is Saturday. Hoo-rah.
I hit up Wicks on Wednesday for all you can eat beer with free pizza for 10 dollars. Place is the shit. So Mikey P and I were eating as much beer as we could and these two girls were sitting next to us. Not that it matters, but they were black. One was from Spanish Harlem and one was from Mobile Alabama. The one from Spanish Harlem looked like a goddess and the one from Mobile looked like she was from Mobile and could teach us things in the bedroom that we’ve never even seen on the internet. Both were very attractive but Mike and I had a suspicion that they might be a little light in their loafers.
The most striking thing about these girls wasn’t that they were so hot or that they were actually talking to us, but it was that they were so athletic (read) and their names sounded like they should be daughtes of a president. I was taken aback because I was expecting Chantal or something a little more athletic and their names turned out to be Lauren and Amanda. It was awesome. But these girls were hilarious and we weren’t even trying to smush we were genuinely enjoying their company. Then Mike and I started thinking how awesome it would be to get their numbers so that we could hang out with them. Maybe we’d be headed to a house party at another of our friend’s house and we’d ask “hey is it cool if our friends Lauren and Amanda come too?” The answer would obviously be yes and imagine how surprised everyone would be when Lauren and Amanda showed up. They were probably thinking the same thing but reverse. “How awesome would it be to just hang out with these white guys? Maybe we could just take down these white guys tonight” Then we started doing trivia. I asked her what Eminem’s real name was and Lauren said all the states in alphabetical order. She said that meant that I had to buy her a shot. I said “no I don’t think that’s what it means.” Long story short: didn’t get their numbers but I hope to see them again this coming Wednesday. It was awesome at the time, trust me. Maybe I’ll buy her a shot next time.
Friday we hit up the old 2 hour lunch trick at Hooters with all of the CTPs and split a couple pitchers. It made the afternoon much better. Lunch beers.
That night I went to my friend Lauren Roberts’ house and we partied. I wore my fluorescent ski jacket and hope John, wherever he was, was wearing his interplanetary body gear jacket as well. I became a very powerful wizard that night as my staff was longer than it has been in a long time. I had a big wizard staff too. Then I got way too drunk. I was thinking today that my tolerance is down. I used to be able to not get so drunk. But then it occurred to me that drinking 18 beers will get you drunk no matter how high your tolerance is. Quite the revelation. I saw a picture of a girl on facebook that had the same exact inflatable sea horse from Morparty week. Identical. That was cool. Then we went to this bar called Molly Malone’s. I still had my duct tape with me but thankfully I had the wherewithal to take my pedometer off so I didn’t lose it. I was functioning pretty well although I was plastered. I started asking people who were dancing if I could duct tape their hands together. Since no one could take me seriously in my ostentatious ski jacket, many people obliged. I had an extensive conversation with the bouncer about how I loved his overalls and told him how my name was Jason and was looking for a pair of overalls to go with my Jason mask so I could kill people with chainsaws. He suggested a few places in town I might check for some nice overalls. Great gentlemen.
That is a weeks worth of stuff. Tonight is Saturday. Hoo-rah.
Monday, December 6, 2010
A Day in the Life
Okay so today I was rocking the shit out of Ohio and Western Pennsylvania. Selling appliances for the meatball, drawing up proposals, and just fucking killing it. Ther are things that I like to do when I'm calling people I haven't ever talked to or people that scare me (Scott Gross; Gross Properties; Acct C6X54 this guy will fuck your shit). One is stand up and throw my stress ball that has the meatball logo on it at the ceiling. I throw it up at the bat that I pinned to my ceiling for Halloween. I throw it against the wall of my cube near the Turkey that I made by tracing my hand for Thanksgiving. I throw it at a wheelchair that I had in the office for Veteran's day. I throw it at the girl who sits next to me, Ashley, through a huge candy cane that I have for Christmas. As you can tell, I'm very festive.
Anyways, today I was just straight killin it on my calls. Messing around with people over the phone. Talking about Pittsburgh Steelers games, the weather, and sailing when I dropped my stress ball and it rolled under Ashley's desk. She was on a call so I just kind of waited until my call was done and walked over to her desk. Because I didn't want to disturb her when she was in her zone, I just kind of got down with my head near her lap and started reaching under the desk. And wouldn't you know it, my boss walks by. He stops, looks at me with a quizzical look and I back at him, slightly shocked. Then my gaze shifted from shocked to blase and a grin came across my face. I didn't move from the position that I was in, face near Ashley's lap, and just said straight to him "Let's be honest, this isn't the worst thing you've caught me doing"
I thought it was pretty fucking nice after the fact. Luckily my boss is a pretty easygoing guy. Hopefully that comment doesn't come back to bite me.
Anyways, today I was just straight killin it on my calls. Messing around with people over the phone. Talking about Pittsburgh Steelers games, the weather, and sailing when I dropped my stress ball and it rolled under Ashley's desk. She was on a call so I just kind of waited until my call was done and walked over to her desk. Because I didn't want to disturb her when she was in her zone, I just kind of got down with my head near her lap and started reaching under the desk. And wouldn't you know it, my boss walks by. He stops, looks at me with a quizzical look and I back at him, slightly shocked. Then my gaze shifted from shocked to blase and a grin came across my face. I didn't move from the position that I was in, face near Ashley's lap, and just said straight to him "Let's be honest, this isn't the worst thing you've caught me doing"
I thought it was pretty fucking nice after the fact. Luckily my boss is a pretty easygoing guy. Hopefully that comment doesn't come back to bite me.
Land of the Free
If anyone gets me a hulk hogan tank top, an old car engine, and a big hammer to bang it with I will give you so much money it's ridiculous.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Deep Thoughts with JLy
I was wondering today if the Simpsonss is still on the air. I was trying with all of my might to recall when the last time I sat down and watched the Simpson's was, and I could not for the life of me figure it out.
I mean it used to be a show that I would watch. It had clever quips and dealt with real life issues with relateable characters like Groundskeeper Willie and Comic book guy and I wholeheartedly enjoyed a good dose.
But I haven't heard anyone besides FOX mention the Simpsonss in over a year. Do people still tune in for the new episodes on Sunday (assuming they still are aired Sunday night)? Sorry guys, no football for me. New episode of the Simpsons.
Yeah just tell that to your buddies. They'll understand.
Tune in next week for more Deep thoughts with JLy
I mean it used to be a show that I would watch. It had clever quips and dealt with real life issues with relateable characters like Groundskeeper Willie and Comic book guy and I wholeheartedly enjoyed a good dose.
But I haven't heard anyone besides FOX mention the Simpsonss in over a year. Do people still tune in for the new episodes on Sunday (assuming they still are aired Sunday night)? Sorry guys, no football for me. New episode of the Simpsons.
Yeah just tell that to your buddies. They'll understand.
Tune in next week for more Deep thoughts with JLy
Friday, December 3, 2010
Bomb's Away
So I know that I'm 23 now and the time when farts are funny is long gone (for most people) and bathroom humor tends to be frowned upon. But I would like to stress before I get into this post that this is not a laughing matter. I'm not trying to amuse anyone, I am only trying to alert as many people as I can about the holy and sought after...perfect duece. That's right. I had one tonight and it's rarity struck me like a bolt of lightning. An epiphany, if you will. I needed to tell the world. Or at least the 5 people that read this.
It starts out like any other duece...You're watching tv, checking e-mail, maybe even reading a book. You get halfway down the page and you start to feel yourself begin what's known as prarie dogging. You delay you're gratification and don't up and run to the bathroom immediately because you want this one to flow smoothly. You continue the elevator motion of that mud monkey for a bit longer and slowly, yet very bowlegged-ly, make your way to the can.
If you have the priviledge of being in your own home, you turn the lights down real low and sit down right away. If you're in a public restroom, you try to ignore the low grunting in the stall next to you and lay down some TP. Nobody likes crabs.
It is at this point that you can tell this is going to be a good one. You begin to push the fudge dragon out and realize that after the initial push to break the inertia, that little turd comes right out all on its own. It's not scared of the wet and wide world waiting for it.
It is at that moment that you realized that you have just experienced greatness. You know--you can feel it deep down in your colon, that you have managed to exist in a world without wiping. No hanging chads here, no dangling charlies; and you bask in the pure sanctity of the moment. Wiping once just to make sure, although you know all too well the greatness you have created. You see no skid marks and leap a great leap of happiness and joy. Basking in the sanctity of the work of art you have just created, you flush, probably wash your hands and exit the bathroom. Rightfully so, a huge grin upon your face and a pep in your step that all the bad news in the world couldn't taint (pun? you decide).
You all know what I'm talking about. They're out there. There is no secret and they come only once in a blue moon. Cherish these moments for you never know when one will be your last.
It starts out like any other duece...You're watching tv, checking e-mail, maybe even reading a book. You get halfway down the page and you start to feel yourself begin what's known as prarie dogging. You delay you're gratification and don't up and run to the bathroom immediately because you want this one to flow smoothly. You continue the elevator motion of that mud monkey for a bit longer and slowly, yet very bowlegged-ly, make your way to the can.
If you have the priviledge of being in your own home, you turn the lights down real low and sit down right away. If you're in a public restroom, you try to ignore the low grunting in the stall next to you and lay down some TP. Nobody likes crabs.
It is at this point that you can tell this is going to be a good one. You begin to push the fudge dragon out and realize that after the initial push to break the inertia, that little turd comes right out all on its own. It's not scared of the wet and wide world waiting for it.
It is at that moment that you realized that you have just experienced greatness. You know--you can feel it deep down in your colon, that you have managed to exist in a world without wiping. No hanging chads here, no dangling charlies; and you bask in the pure sanctity of the moment. Wiping once just to make sure, although you know all too well the greatness you have created. You see no skid marks and leap a great leap of happiness and joy. Basking in the sanctity of the work of art you have just created, you flush, probably wash your hands and exit the bathroom. Rightfully so, a huge grin upon your face and a pep in your step that all the bad news in the world couldn't taint (pun? you decide).
You all know what I'm talking about. They're out there. There is no secret and they come only once in a blue moon. Cherish these moments for you never know when one will be your last.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Don't Know How I forgot This One
Dumb and Dumber - the quotes in this movie are literally neverending and could literally be in the running for people with immature sense of humor's (read: me) best movie of all time.
Nice Hooters
I had the best day of my life. I went skiing, she touched my leg!
Why you going to the airport, flying somewhere?
Nice skis, they yours? Both of 'em?
It's okay, I'm an airline pilot.
I got worms.
You sold my dead parakeet to a blind kid?
You'll have to excuse my friend, he's a little slow.
We landed on the moon!
Any unusual breeding? No mostly just doggy style.
Kick his ass sea bass!
Pullover! It's a cardigan but thanks for noticing.
Would you look at the butt on that? Yeah, he must work out.
I'm talking about a little place where the beer flows like wine and the women flock like the salmon of capistrana...Aspen.
I could go on for days. If you haven't seen it, go to a place where videos are rented or sold, and rent it or buy it today.
Nice Hooters
I had the best day of my life. I went skiing, she touched my leg!
Why you going to the airport, flying somewhere?
Nice skis, they yours? Both of 'em?
It's okay, I'm an airline pilot.
I got worms.
You sold my dead parakeet to a blind kid?
You'll have to excuse my friend, he's a little slow.
We landed on the moon!
Any unusual breeding? No mostly just doggy style.
Kick his ass sea bass!
Pullover! It's a cardigan but thanks for noticing.
Would you look at the butt on that? Yeah, he must work out.
I'm talking about a little place where the beer flows like wine and the women flock like the salmon of capistrana...Aspen.
I could go on for days. If you haven't seen it, go to a place where videos are rented or sold, and rent it or buy it today.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Happy December
I have had a very eventful past few days. I have done some things, and reflected on some others, and feel like I need to express myself through song. And by song, I of course mean the written word.
I joined a gym yesterday called Urban Active. Gyms are very different in the real world for a number of reasons. I would like to share those with you. First, the percentage of people at gyms in the real world that are jacked is much greater than the percentage of people who are jacked at gyms at Dartmouth. See, at Dartmouth, there are a lot of squirrelly guys who are hitting the weights to “beef up before spring gets here”. Unfortunately, most of those very same guys lose interest after a week and digress to Dwayne’s get Jacked plan.
In the real world, there are guys who look like Joe from Family Guy walking around everywhere I look. Huge upper bodies and tiny little pixie ballerina legs.
Next, the real world has a much higher percentage of smoking girls than in the Dartmouth fitness center. Granted, I haven’t run a controlled experiment here and there are many variables like me being in Kentucky, and me being in Kentucky, and also me not being in New Hampshire, but the fact still remains. Bonerjamz. Real world gyms also have what I like to call “membership fees”. It’s not sweet but I guess looking great has its price. Other than that, things are pretty similar. This gym has a Basketball court, a swimming pool, a sauna, and most importantly a team shower. I haven’t tried the Old Spice slip and slide yet, and I’m still waiting for the correct time to bust out the slow emerging mollusk. I’m optimistic that the moment draws near.
Seeing as I have lifted at a gym once in the last 4 months (while visiting Hanover), I was very sore today. I think that is a combination of two things. First, my hitting the G like a fucking champ and lifting everything that wasn’t nailed down including the 320 pound, 6’6”, looks like Franky Figgs from the Whole 9 Yards sales rep named Tevarus probably played an integral role. Most importantly, however, the victoria’s secret fashion show was on last night and I swear I have carpal tunnel in both my wrists. All joking aside, I was looking swole today. I damn near broke my keyboard I was feeling so good.
One thing I want to show you is the arts and crafts that I made last Wednesday on the day before thanksgiving. It was like being in 4th grade all over again.
Edvard Munch over here
While I was on the elliptical today I was thinking about something. No, I wasn’t thinking about how shitty the elliptical is compared to actually running. Seriously, it’s not fun at all and it’s painful to make your legs move in less than a full range of motion. I can’t imagine how the motorboater did that for his entire freshman fall. What I was really thinking about was websites like milfhunter, backroommilf, milfsoup…things like that. I’m sure being in the Urban Active gym with all the scenery wasn’t the reason or anything but I really did give this some thought.
So I started thinking that all these alleged Milfs that are getting rocked on these websites had to have come somewhere. I mean, they probably got their start in the adult movie industry around the age of 25 or so, and certainly hadn’t achieved milf status at that time. What I was really giving some thought to was what exactly is it like when these girls come in for a shoot one day and figure out that they aren’t going to be on the website they used to be on (bangbus, welivetogether, etc…) and are in fact going to be on a website featuring Milfs. Do you think it is like an epiphany or a mid life crises for sluts? They realize that they don’t look good enough anymore to be on the young websites, and that they have finally aged enough to look like a mom. That’s got to be a little depressing. Well, I guess that was just something that occurred to me. Hope everyone is doing well out there. Tell your friends.
Lyon Out
I joined a gym yesterday called Urban Active. Gyms are very different in the real world for a number of reasons. I would like to share those with you. First, the percentage of people at gyms in the real world that are jacked is much greater than the percentage of people who are jacked at gyms at Dartmouth. See, at Dartmouth, there are a lot of squirrelly guys who are hitting the weights to “beef up before spring gets here”. Unfortunately, most of those very same guys lose interest after a week and digress to Dwayne’s get Jacked plan.
In the real world, there are guys who look like Joe from Family Guy walking around everywhere I look. Huge upper bodies and tiny little pixie ballerina legs.
Next, the real world has a much higher percentage of smoking girls than in the Dartmouth fitness center. Granted, I haven’t run a controlled experiment here and there are many variables like me being in Kentucky, and me being in Kentucky, and also me not being in New Hampshire, but the fact still remains. Bonerjamz. Real world gyms also have what I like to call “membership fees”. It’s not sweet but I guess looking great has its price. Other than that, things are pretty similar. This gym has a Basketball court, a swimming pool, a sauna, and most importantly a team shower. I haven’t tried the Old Spice slip and slide yet, and I’m still waiting for the correct time to bust out the slow emerging mollusk. I’m optimistic that the moment draws near.
Seeing as I have lifted at a gym once in the last 4 months (while visiting Hanover), I was very sore today. I think that is a combination of two things. First, my hitting the G like a fucking champ and lifting everything that wasn’t nailed down including the 320 pound, 6’6”, looks like Franky Figgs from the Whole 9 Yards sales rep named Tevarus probably played an integral role. Most importantly, however, the victoria’s secret fashion show was on last night and I swear I have carpal tunnel in both my wrists. All joking aside, I was looking swole today. I damn near broke my keyboard I was feeling so good.
One thing I want to show you is the arts and crafts that I made last Wednesday on the day before thanksgiving. It was like being in 4th grade all over again.
Edvard Munch over here
While I was on the elliptical today I was thinking about something. No, I wasn’t thinking about how shitty the elliptical is compared to actually running. Seriously, it’s not fun at all and it’s painful to make your legs move in less than a full range of motion. I can’t imagine how the motorboater did that for his entire freshman fall. What I was really thinking about was websites like milfhunter, backroommilf, milfsoup…things like that. I’m sure being in the Urban Active gym with all the scenery wasn’t the reason or anything but I really did give this some thought.
So I started thinking that all these alleged Milfs that are getting rocked on these websites had to have come somewhere. I mean, they probably got their start in the adult movie industry around the age of 25 or so, and certainly hadn’t achieved milf status at that time. What I was really giving some thought to was what exactly is it like when these girls come in for a shoot one day and figure out that they aren’t going to be on the website they used to be on (bangbus, welivetogether, etc…) and are in fact going to be on a website featuring Milfs. Do you think it is like an epiphany or a mid life crises for sluts? They realize that they don’t look good enough anymore to be on the young websites, and that they have finally aged enough to look like a mom. That’s got to be a little depressing. Well, I guess that was just something that occurred to me. Hope everyone is doing well out there. Tell your friends.
Lyon Out
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