Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Friday, January 7, 2011
My 2 Favorite Commercials
I honestly didn't even know what this was a commercial for until I looked up the video on youtube. I absolutely love this commercial.
"Favorite actor. That's easy, Kevin Bacon. His best movie: that would be a tie...between all of them.
Love this commercial.
This next one is a commercial for some sort of 4G network I think. I just like the commercial.
"Don't be silly Adrian Peterson"
"Favorite actor. That's easy, Kevin Bacon. His best movie: that would be a tie...between all of them.
Love this commercial.
This next one is a commercial for some sort of 4G network I think. I just like the commercial.
"Don't be silly Adrian Peterson"
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Deep Thoughts with J Ly
What is up with ringback tones? The other day I called a guy and his ringback tone was “It’s Been A While” by Staind. I mean come on…I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I believe that depending on who is calling that this ringback tone could mean one of several things.
“Sir, I don’t know who you are or what company your work for but do not, under any circumstances, give me a job.”
“No thank you, I wouldn’t like to have sex with you tonight. Nope, not for me. You keep your private parts to yourself. I swear that my religion is the reason I’m still a virgin.”
“I can’t believe my mom actually grounded me. All I did was try to eat an entire bottle of Xanax. I’m so fed up with all these conformists and their conforming ways.”
Granted, this guy I called was a resident of Kentucky. There is a chance that he could just like the song. But I doubt it.
“Sir, I don’t know who you are or what company your work for but do not, under any circumstances, give me a job.”
“No thank you, I wouldn’t like to have sex with you tonight. Nope, not for me. You keep your private parts to yourself. I swear that my religion is the reason I’m still a virgin.”
“I can’t believe my mom actually grounded me. All I did was try to eat an entire bottle of Xanax. I’m so fed up with all these conformists and their conforming ways.”
Granted, this guy I called was a resident of Kentucky. There is a chance that he could just like the song. But I doubt it.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Double Entendre Update
So John gave me an idea for a blog post theme. I’m sure if you’re reading this you know full the capability of the human mind to twist common everyday sayings into ones of perverted meanings. I’m sure you have all used the term “that’s what she said” at some point in your life. I’m here to tell you that is a gay saying. If you use it more than 5 times a day, you almost certainly enjoy the company of men. It’s not creative, it’s not original, and I hate it.
I believe that somewhere around the summer of 2008, Morparty and I really picked up the double entendre ball and starting running, no sprinting, with it. We talked about stuffing ourselves with a ton of meat at lunch, heading down to the river to take a dip, and even about waiting for Santa Claus to come.
I’ve decided that as double entendre’s present themselves, and as I see necessary, I will record them here, for you to enjoy, snicker at, but most likely scoff and call immature. Don’t care.
Here is the e-mail that made it all happen:
---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: JMotorboaterschroeder
Date: Tue, Jan 4, 2011 at 9:56 PM
Subject: Re: Borat on letterman
To: lyon3000
double entendre update:
so Kathy and i were at the grocery store, and there was this guy near
us wearing a "skeleton witch" sweatshirt. it was a rad sweatshirt, and
completely unrelated to this story. so he had a bag full of clams in
his hand, and the way he was holding it, it ended up dangling between
his legs
so i go, "what's that hanging between his legs? i mean, what's that
meat between his legs? i mean, what type of shellfish is he holding?"
then he gave us a mean look. much like the "chief my balls stink" vid
Send me funny double entendres. Let it begin.
I believe that somewhere around the summer of 2008, Morparty and I really picked up the double entendre ball and starting running, no sprinting, with it. We talked about stuffing ourselves with a ton of meat at lunch, heading down to the river to take a dip, and even about waiting for Santa Claus to come.
I’ve decided that as double entendre’s present themselves, and as I see necessary, I will record them here, for you to enjoy, snicker at, but most likely scoff and call immature. Don’t care.
Here is the e-mail that made it all happen:
---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: JMotorboaterschroeder
Date: Tue, Jan 4, 2011 at 9:56 PM
Subject: Re: Borat on letterman
To: lyon3000
double entendre update:
so Kathy and i were at the grocery store, and there was this guy near
us wearing a "skeleton witch" sweatshirt. it was a rad sweatshirt, and
completely unrelated to this story. so he had a bag full of clams in
his hand, and the way he was holding it, it ended up dangling between
his legs
so i go, "what's that hanging between his legs? i mean, what's that
meat between his legs? i mean, what type of shellfish is he holding?"
then he gave us a mean look. much like the "chief my balls stink" vid
Send me funny double entendres. Let it begin.
Double Entendre Update
The other day I was with my friend Mike in the drive through at McDonald’s in Louisville, KY. We went to the ordering microphone and waited for a signal to order. A very sweet southern accented lady came over the loudspeaker and asked what we would like to order. 4 McChickens. She thanks us in her sweet southern accent, we thank her back, and we drive around to pay.
We get a glimpse of this lady and she looks nice enough. That southern twang was pretty cool but she did look a little like this:
Yes she looked very much like the bird in the left side of that picture.
So she looked a little sketchy but was outgoing enough. Mike leans over and says “Oh man, that was you on the intercom? I didn’t even recognize your voice.”
She immediately (and obviously without thinking about how immature we were) says back “Oh yes, that’s me! I’ve got all sorts of characters inside me!”
Mike very quietly and only so I can hear says “How’d you like to have 2 more?”
Ummm it was unreal.
We get a glimpse of this lady and she looks nice enough. That southern twang was pretty cool but she did look a little like this:
Yes she looked very much like the bird in the left side of that picture.
So she looked a little sketchy but was outgoing enough. Mike leans over and says “Oh man, that was you on the intercom? I didn’t even recognize your voice.”
She immediately (and obviously without thinking about how immature we were) says back “Oh yes, that’s me! I’ve got all sorts of characters inside me!”
Mike very quietly and only so I can hear says “How’d you like to have 2 more?”
Ummm it was unreal.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Urban Attractive
So some of you may know that I joined a gym. Although the sign on the front says “Urban Active” I affectionally call it Urban Attractive. This is an allusion to the high quality of scenery in the gym and the beautiful aquatic life in the pool. Except for the scenery, the place fuckin sucks. Here’s why.
First of all, it is about 70 degrees inside the gym. That is obviously just a ballpark guess my point is that it is way too hot to work out inside. I suppose most of the people don’t mind because they walk on the treadmill or just kind of stroll around the gym from machine to machine not doing shit. I, however, need to work out hard to maintain this body that is obviously a specimen of physical perfection. That rhymed. Unintentional. Actually no it didn't. Whatever.
So I like to run on the treadmills not because I’m a pussy and don’t want to run outside because it’s cold, but because it’s dark by the time I get off work. So there I am, up on the treadmill hammering out a couple solid miles, sweating like a horse. I mean, I usually like to work up a good sweat when I exercise but I am literally streaming sweat. This is bad for two reasons. First, I don’t like to be soaking wet while I’m running in January. Next, girls. There are tons of girls around and I although I like to say I can, I can’t impress people on the free weights nearly as well as I can on the treadmill. In fact, the other day I was running on the ktread with a window right in front of me. It was dark outside so it acted like a mirror and could see that the girl on a bike behind me was checking me the fuck out. Hardcore. I went through it in my head a million times as I was impressing her with my grueling 6 minute mile pace. I’d step off the treadmill, catch my breath and walk up to her and say “So what’d you think?” Money. Too bad I was drenched in sweat and couldn’t do that because we definitely would have boned right then and there next to the yoga mats. I mean I was seriously looking like Brendan Frazer (who sucks) in Bedazzled. Don’t ask why I referenced that movie or I will literally skullfuck you.
See?
Next, the scale is in the middle of the gym. Although it’s funny for me to think about going up to hot girls on the scale and say “what did it read…perfect?” I really liked the scale in the lockerroom at school. You were in the shower with your friends. Getting wet, laughing, splashing each other, getting those hard to reach places when you turn off the water, air dry under the blowers because pin room steve doesn’t have his shit together and jump on the scale ass naked. Such a great time. I tried to do that at Urban Attractive and I was asked to leave. Immediately.
Which brings me to my next point. For some reason people get really uncomfortable when I try to do stretches in the locker room while wearing nothing at all. I just don’t get it.
Another thing that grinds my gears is that the pool tastes like an ocean. Well, here you might be tempted to say “well that means it’s more like an ocean which is better to swim in anyway. Wrong. Pools aren’t supposed to taste like oceans. They are supposed to taste like pools. I have a pretty good idea why the pool tastes so salty but I don’t care to write it because it just grosses me out.
So all those things about Urban Attractive suck. Sure, it has more scenery than Hanover in the fall but at some point you just have to look yourself in the mirror and say “when in Rome.” It’s an expression.
As soon as the weather gets nice enough and the sun stays up long enough I’m going to quit that shithole and start working out outside. I’m already looking for a bench and weights on craigslist. The Pie-Guy and I are going to buy it and put it in my front yard. We’ll construct a chainlink fence around the outside, de-sleeve everything in our wardrobe, and play music alternating between Xhibit, DMX, Whitesnake, and Van Halen.
First of all, it is about 70 degrees inside the gym. That is obviously just a ballpark guess my point is that it is way too hot to work out inside. I suppose most of the people don’t mind because they walk on the treadmill or just kind of stroll around the gym from machine to machine not doing shit. I, however, need to work out hard to maintain this body that is obviously a specimen of physical perfection. That rhymed. Unintentional. Actually no it didn't. Whatever.
So I like to run on the treadmills not because I’m a pussy and don’t want to run outside because it’s cold, but because it’s dark by the time I get off work. So there I am, up on the treadmill hammering out a couple solid miles, sweating like a horse. I mean, I usually like to work up a good sweat when I exercise but I am literally streaming sweat. This is bad for two reasons. First, I don’t like to be soaking wet while I’m running in January. Next, girls. There are tons of girls around and I although I like to say I can, I can’t impress people on the free weights nearly as well as I can on the treadmill. In fact, the other day I was running on the ktread with a window right in front of me. It was dark outside so it acted like a mirror and could see that the girl on a bike behind me was checking me the fuck out. Hardcore. I went through it in my head a million times as I was impressing her with my grueling 6 minute mile pace. I’d step off the treadmill, catch my breath and walk up to her and say “So what’d you think?” Money. Too bad I was drenched in sweat and couldn’t do that because we definitely would have boned right then and there next to the yoga mats. I mean I was seriously looking like Brendan Frazer (who sucks) in Bedazzled. Don’t ask why I referenced that movie or I will literally skullfuck you.
See?
Next, the scale is in the middle of the gym. Although it’s funny for me to think about going up to hot girls on the scale and say “what did it read…perfect?” I really liked the scale in the lockerroom at school. You were in the shower with your friends. Getting wet, laughing, splashing each other, getting those hard to reach places when you turn off the water, air dry under the blowers because pin room steve doesn’t have his shit together and jump on the scale ass naked. Such a great time. I tried to do that at Urban Attractive and I was asked to leave. Immediately.
Which brings me to my next point. For some reason people get really uncomfortable when I try to do stretches in the locker room while wearing nothing at all. I just don’t get it.
Another thing that grinds my gears is that the pool tastes like an ocean. Well, here you might be tempted to say “well that means it’s more like an ocean which is better to swim in anyway. Wrong. Pools aren’t supposed to taste like oceans. They are supposed to taste like pools. I have a pretty good idea why the pool tastes so salty but I don’t care to write it because it just grosses me out.
So all those things about Urban Attractive suck. Sure, it has more scenery than Hanover in the fall but at some point you just have to look yourself in the mirror and say “when in Rome.” It’s an expression.
As soon as the weather gets nice enough and the sun stays up long enough I’m going to quit that shithole and start working out outside. I’m already looking for a bench and weights on craigslist. The Pie-Guy and I are going to buy it and put it in my front yard. We’ll construct a chainlink fence around the outside, de-sleeve everything in our wardrobe, and play music alternating between Xhibit, DMX, Whitesnake, and Van Halen.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Merry New Year!
So I had a pretty good New Years Eve celebration last night. It wasn’t too crazy, I didn’t succeed in fighting anyone, and I didn’t puke in public so I consider it a great success. I did lots of other things though and I am here to tell you about it.
But first, I’d like to reference one of my favorite movies with Eddie Murphy in it. In fact, I’d say it’s number 2 right behind of course Beverly Hills Cop. In it, he pretends to be from Camaroon to hoodwink the villain who is the same guy as the Dean from the Breakfast club and other great films such as Hot another Teen Movie. His English stinks and instead of saying Happy New Year like an American, He says Merry New Year. Observe.
So I began my day yesterday by heading to my local Kroger. I had finally had it with eating the bottom of the barrel last remains of the groceries I had from the last time I went to the grocery store (which was in early November, by the way) and I decided that the time had come for me to really treat myself. So I did. Except for me getting gushers nothing of note happened at the store, it was just your typical trip to the grocery.
Then, I returned home around 1 and began playing wizard staff. A couple of my friends came over and after a quick discussion, everyone agreed that 65 degrees and sunny on December 31st has outdoor beruit and cornhole written all over it. So I threw on a sleeveless, shorts, argyle socks, and some sneaks and headed outside. It was a grand old time as we began to ring in the New Year in high style.
I then helped my friend move a television. Yep, moved the shit out of that TV. Luckily I’ve been hitting up Urban Attractive a lot lately so my guns were glistening and moving that 48 incher was easier than picking up elementary school kids by asking if they want to see your puppy.
Then we resumed outdoor pong (I wish. 7 for harbor?) and cornhole. That really is a great game. After it started getting dark, we decided we needed to make a move. So my friends and I invited ourselves to my roommate’s friend’s house where there was about 30 people we didn’t know who had all gone to Centre with Teresa and Allison. They weren’t particularly warm people and someone got mad at me for feeding their dog pretzels. Although there quite a few sharp looking girls there, I would say that party was the opposite of tight. Perhaps something a Gaylord might be interested in.
We then headed out, around 9 to our other friend’s house from work. I was kind of hungry but luckily I knew something that would curb my appetite and it rhymed with "another dip." Anwyas, my friend lives in a 5 story apartment complex and has the dopest digs. She was the girl whose TV I moved. So you can imagine that if she has a 48 inch television, she definitely isn’t using plastic dishware if you know what I’m saying. Anyway, this place was mad tight. And luckily for everyone there I brought my Cambridge Soundworks speaker system and got the party absolutely bumpin. I’ll be honest, I didn’t do anything too crazy there. I didn’t break anything (although Mike broke her refrigerator door. Oops) I just got really drunk.
Most of the people were around our age but there were some mid 30s guys who are bigwigs at Appliance Park and they were just chillin and drinking with us. One of the guys played hockey in college and he’s a total bro. I actually got a plug off him and then we both went out to the balcony to piss off of it. The bathroom was just as close, if not closer, but a couple guys having a plug and drinking bourbon needed to frat out a little more than pissing one at a time. Note: I found out today that he actually booted last night. Not booting like you pull your trigger to make room for more but got sick. Pussy.
So anyways, while we were having a nice stream off the balcony we got to talking and I got to thinking. There was a huge parking lot right below us with a ton of cars in it. I remembered looking in Lauren’s fridge earlier that evening and seeing tomatoes and a nice carton of eggs. So after I finished up with what I was currently doing, I headed to the fridge and surreptitiously got the eggs and tomatoes out. We started whipping them off the balcony. In hindsight, probably not a great idea but it was fucking great at the time. We were calling cars and just smoking them. Kind of like in Hook when Robin Williams has that egg shooter, except we didn’t have a chicken laying them as fast as we could fire them off.
Then the new year came and I got about a million texts saying happy new year. I think most of them I responded to with “just got an 8 ball and a fifth of patron…time to get wild.” I don’t know if anyone took that seriously but I’m guessing they did because nobody texted back after that. Sorry for partying.
Then next thing I knew it was 2:30 in the morning and my friend Mike and I were tired. So we tried to go and get a cab. No cabs would stop for us so we tried flagging down cars. Some people got really upset when we were standing in the street and they had to stop and when they sped off I chased them down but hey, can’t win them all.
Finally, this really nice lady named Susan who summers on the Vineyard stopped and picked us up. She looked a little bit like my Philosophy 11 teacher, Christine Thomas, and a lot like a lesbian. Whatever, she gave us a ride home and was excited to be so close to my bed.
I stumbled upstairs and am thinking about how awesome it is going to be to just sleep in my bed when I turn to my right and see a lump laying there. SOMEONE WAS IN MY BED! Mother. Fucker. Turns out it was this girl that is friends with my roommate so I thought that I would fuck with her. I also thought I should mess with her as well. So I turn the light on and start banging my hands on the bed. She jumps about 2 feet in the air when I started shouting “WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY BED BITCH?” She apologized and exited promptly. Ho.
So that was my new years. Motor Boater is rolling into town (with Kathy) in about an hour and a half and we’re going to go to one of my favorite bars, drink beers, eat wings, and watch the winter classic. It’s gonna be tight.
But first, I’d like to reference one of my favorite movies with Eddie Murphy in it. In fact, I’d say it’s number 2 right behind of course Beverly Hills Cop. In it, he pretends to be from Camaroon to hoodwink the villain who is the same guy as the Dean from the Breakfast club and other great films such as Hot another Teen Movie. His English stinks and instead of saying Happy New Year like an American, He says Merry New Year. Observe.
So I began my day yesterday by heading to my local Kroger. I had finally had it with eating the bottom of the barrel last remains of the groceries I had from the last time I went to the grocery store (which was in early November, by the way) and I decided that the time had come for me to really treat myself. So I did. Except for me getting gushers nothing of note happened at the store, it was just your typical trip to the grocery.
Then, I returned home around 1 and began playing wizard staff. A couple of my friends came over and after a quick discussion, everyone agreed that 65 degrees and sunny on December 31st has outdoor beruit and cornhole written all over it. So I threw on a sleeveless, shorts, argyle socks, and some sneaks and headed outside. It was a grand old time as we began to ring in the New Year in high style.
I then helped my friend move a television. Yep, moved the shit out of that TV. Luckily I’ve been hitting up Urban Attractive a lot lately so my guns were glistening and moving that 48 incher was easier than picking up elementary school kids by asking if they want to see your puppy.
Then we resumed outdoor pong (I wish. 7 for harbor?) and cornhole. That really is a great game. After it started getting dark, we decided we needed to make a move. So my friends and I invited ourselves to my roommate’s friend’s house where there was about 30 people we didn’t know who had all gone to Centre with Teresa and Allison. They weren’t particularly warm people and someone got mad at me for feeding their dog pretzels. Although there quite a few sharp looking girls there, I would say that party was the opposite of tight. Perhaps something a Gaylord might be interested in.
We then headed out, around 9 to our other friend’s house from work. I was kind of hungry but luckily I knew something that would curb my appetite and it rhymed with "another dip." Anwyas, my friend lives in a 5 story apartment complex and has the dopest digs. She was the girl whose TV I moved. So you can imagine that if she has a 48 inch television, she definitely isn’t using plastic dishware if you know what I’m saying. Anyway, this place was mad tight. And luckily for everyone there I brought my Cambridge Soundworks speaker system and got the party absolutely bumpin. I’ll be honest, I didn’t do anything too crazy there. I didn’t break anything (although Mike broke her refrigerator door. Oops) I just got really drunk.
Most of the people were around our age but there were some mid 30s guys who are bigwigs at Appliance Park and they were just chillin and drinking with us. One of the guys played hockey in college and he’s a total bro. I actually got a plug off him and then we both went out to the balcony to piss off of it. The bathroom was just as close, if not closer, but a couple guys having a plug and drinking bourbon needed to frat out a little more than pissing one at a time. Note: I found out today that he actually booted last night. Not booting like you pull your trigger to make room for more but got sick. Pussy.
So anyways, while we were having a nice stream off the balcony we got to talking and I got to thinking. There was a huge parking lot right below us with a ton of cars in it. I remembered looking in Lauren’s fridge earlier that evening and seeing tomatoes and a nice carton of eggs. So after I finished up with what I was currently doing, I headed to the fridge and surreptitiously got the eggs and tomatoes out. We started whipping them off the balcony. In hindsight, probably not a great idea but it was fucking great at the time. We were calling cars and just smoking them. Kind of like in Hook when Robin Williams has that egg shooter, except we didn’t have a chicken laying them as fast as we could fire them off.
Then the new year came and I got about a million texts saying happy new year. I think most of them I responded to with “just got an 8 ball and a fifth of patron…time to get wild.” I don’t know if anyone took that seriously but I’m guessing they did because nobody texted back after that. Sorry for partying.
Then next thing I knew it was 2:30 in the morning and my friend Mike and I were tired. So we tried to go and get a cab. No cabs would stop for us so we tried flagging down cars. Some people got really upset when we were standing in the street and they had to stop and when they sped off I chased them down but hey, can’t win them all.
Finally, this really nice lady named Susan who summers on the Vineyard stopped and picked us up. She looked a little bit like my Philosophy 11 teacher, Christine Thomas, and a lot like a lesbian. Whatever, she gave us a ride home and was excited to be so close to my bed.
I stumbled upstairs and am thinking about how awesome it is going to be to just sleep in my bed when I turn to my right and see a lump laying there. SOMEONE WAS IN MY BED! Mother. Fucker. Turns out it was this girl that is friends with my roommate so I thought that I would fuck with her. I also thought I should mess with her as well. So I turn the light on and start banging my hands on the bed. She jumps about 2 feet in the air when I started shouting “WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY BED BITCH?” She apologized and exited promptly. Ho.
So that was my new years. Motor Boater is rolling into town (with Kathy) in about an hour and a half and we’re going to go to one of my favorite bars, drink beers, eat wings, and watch the winter classic. It’s gonna be tight.
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