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Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Learn How to Drive (insert stereotypically bad driver)!

How many near accidents do I have to have with Asian drivers, Mexican gardeners in beat-up pickup trucks with dangerously protruding rakes, ladders, and garbage cans, and Orthodox Jews driving minivans stuffed to the brim with kids, before I can make mercilessly obnoxious generalizations about these people's terrible driving with impunity? At what point does their consistent and reckless endangerment of my life afford me that right? Just a question.

Monday, September 28, 2009

Sir, No, Sir!

I was recently wearing this old ARMY T-shirt I bought at a thrift store years ago at a party, and this girl asked me if I was actually in the Army. So I said, "you know how in the movies, when they have those big, fancy galas, with rich people, and important political figures, and there's always the erudite Englishman who says something like, 'Well, if Churchill had the right mind to reposition our young troops on the Western Front, then perhaps we could have avoided such a long-winded--' at which point he always gets cut off by the token, high-ranking, heavily decorated, cynical soldier, who gruffly barks something like, 'Have you ever killed a man, son? Have you ever held your dying best friend in your arms, with his entrails spilled in your lap, as he chokes on his own blood while he tries to relay his last words to you, but you can't understand him because of the gurgling sounds?' And then the British guy turns pale and it's an awkward moment for everyone? . . . Well I'm the English pussy who has an opinion but isn't willing to fight."

A long-winded answer to a simple question? Perhaps.

Good MILF Hunting

I really enjoy looking at MILFs. It gives me hope that, against all odds, whoever I end up marrying will stay hot. Please. God.

Enough Is Enough

Seriously, Organized Religion? Why are you not totally obsolete by now?

Further evidence of (wo)mankind's stupidity . . .


I have a friend who claimed to have lost his virginity at a party in high school, but I disagreed because he only squeezed in like half a wiener, and for just, like, three thrusts, at that. And no one came. To be perfectly honest, I don't remember the exact details, but it still raises the questions: what constitutes losing your virginity?

Is there a minimum number of pumps required, or is it instantly snatched (pun intended) upon first penetration? After you've already lost your virginity, do the rules for what constitutes sex change? Are the first-time rules more stringent or less? Is it only if someone orgasms? That can't be because I think there are actually women who have, somehow, never managed to do so. Is it different for a guy and a girl? Is it when your Uncle David makes you sit on his lap, naked, in the coat check room at your family reunion in 1984? (Just kidding, Uncle D. Your secret's safe with me.)

Anyway, that's all. Was just wondering. Thoughts? . . .

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Screw the Box of Chocolates, Life Is Like A Starbucks Straw

Whenever I go to Starbucks, after I order my drink, I always grab a straw (my drinks always require straws because they're always cold because I sweat profusely if I drink anything hot) from their little sugar/milk/condiment island while I wait, in order to maximize efficiency. Obviously. But at this one Starbucks I frequent, they always provide a straw when they serve you your drink, so I always end up returning to the aforementioned island to put the extra straw back.

Finally, after this specific Starbucks provided the straw with my drink in enough consecutive trials, I decided to not take a straw in advance of receiving my drink, in order to, once again, maximize efficiency.

So, what happened? Of course, that was the first time they didn't provide a straw with the drink. Foiled! Naturally, my trust totally betrayed, I took a straw in advance the following trip to this Starbucks, only to be provided with a straw, forcing me to once again return the extra straw. So then, I figured the one time they did not provide the straw was the anomaly, and the next time I felt comfortable not preemptively snatching a straw, only to once again have the proverbial rug pulled out from under me when they didn't provide the straw (I even thought maybe it was some inside, practical joke among the employees, because I'm always paranoid that people in service positions are constantly fucking with their customers in order to stave off boredom, but I paid extra-close attention, and if they were doing this intentionally then they should be nominated for Academy Awards, or something).

Anyway, it finally occurred to me, after taking yet another superfluous straw, that my Starbucks straw experience is a metaphor for life: in the Starbucks of life, always get your own straw, because as soon as you take it for granted and start expecting one, it won't be there. In fact, if you take a straw, and they give you one too, don't put the extra straw back. Keep it. Just in case. Because one time, they ran out of the long straws, and I so wished I had kept even just one of those many straws I'd returned to the island because I ended up having to drink a venti through a short straw. Yeah. I know.

Monday, September 21, 2009

Holy F-ing Shit!

Go Science! How amazing is this?! If they could only get these guys to work on improving the condom, now . . .;photovideo


I love Larry David. Passionately.


So two white guys are walking along, when they see an interracial couple pass by, a black dude with a white girl. One of the white guys stares at the couple and turns to his friend, a little disgusted, "Ugh, I hate it when black guys take our girls . . ."

The friend looks back at his racist buddy, a bit incredulously, and says, "Our girls? That girl was over 200 pounds. They take the ones we don't want . . . like the Mexicans, with our jobs . . ."

Sweaty Balls Be Gone!

A friend of mine came up with an awesome idea the other day: ShamWow Boxers!!! Brilliant, right? Super absorbent, and you can wring 'em out with ease. Plus, it would be made in Germany, and "you know the Germans always make good stuff" . . . Always, Vince? Really? How about those ovens and human lampshades, asshole?

Sunday, September 20, 2009

"On Accident"

I hate when people say "on accident" instead of "by accident." This is done primarily by idiots, or, as we used to call them growing up, Southerners.

Fake Eyelashes

C'mon. Really, girls? Be reasonable. If they're excessive enough that a guy can tell they're fake, you're probably wearing glitter, too. Also, you're probably a whore.

n. Shit, adj. Shitty

How do you spell the adjective form of "pus?" Like, "clean your wound before it gets all ____."?

Friday, September 18, 2009

Give Credit Where Credit's Due

And today's credit goes to . . . WOMEN!

I was talking to a friend of mine today, and he was telling me about some girl with an amazing body who he's been hooking up with. Now, this friend has seen thinner days, but he's not fat. Here's what he said to me:

"I don't know why girls with such tight bodies hang out with fat-asses like me. I think I'm pretty physically repugnant by this point. . . . I don't care how funny a chick is; I ain't goin' down on her if I can't fit my head between her thighs."

Well put, my friend. Further reinforcement for why women aren't funny because it doesn't really serve them any purpose, incidentally. But, females . . . god bless you guys. You will put up with a lot more physical imperfections than we will. And we're grateful. Or at least we should be.


Wow. I didn't even realize until just now that I've written over 100 of these things! Go me. Okay, that's all. Just some self-congratulatory rimming . . . like the Oscars, only no one cares.

No, You Don't Understand...

First of all, anything that follows "no, you don't understand," is probably going to be an extremely irksome statement. But what I wanted to say was, I hate people who think you can't understand something unless you've personally experienced it . . . which, shockingly, I know, usually only happens when they've experienced something you haven't. Pretty much never happens the other way around.

They always say stuff like, "no, until you've had children, you have no idea what you're talking about," or "you've never been poor, so you don't understand," or "as soon as you've had your arm shredded and ripped from your torso by a rabid wolverine, you have no clue."

Ever hear of a little thing called "empathy?" Well, clearly, these people are so severely self-absorbed that they're totally incapable of seeing things from another person's point of view, which is why they project their own shortcomings, a lack of perspective, onto you. Yeah, your plight is so unique that no one could possibly understand what you're going through. (That would've been in Sarcastic Font.)

Listen, buddy, I don't need to commit a murder to get that it's a bad idea, okay? You're not special.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

(I can't even be bothered to think of a title for this one)

Have you ever accidentally hit the UNLOCK button on your car keychain, or whatever it's called, and even though you're clearly way out of range for it to work (like, the car isn't even in sight), you hit the LOCK button immediately afterwards just to be safe?


Is it weird that if I'm about to get in the shower right after I take I piss, I still wash my hands in the sink first?

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Michael Vick

Black people were way too blindly supportive of this guy when he first got arrested, and white people are way too anti-Vick now that he's out.

Yes, he was an asshole who tortured innocent dogs. Then he lost millions upon millions of dollars and spent almost two years, I think, in a fucking ass-rape-friendly federal prison as a result. That's a long time (especially given the short sentences other NFL players have received for crimes against ACTUAL HUMAN BEINGS! If people weren't so obsessed with plugging their emotional voids with overly affectionate animals who were inbred with the sole purpose of being adorable, then people wouldn't be so goddamn emotional about dogs, and this wouldn't even be that big an issue in the first place. And sorry, saying that is not the same thing as condoning animal cruelty). He gets to go back to his job now. That's fair. Everyone calm down.

Monday, September 14, 2009

More Stereotyping

And why do white trash people revere Mustangs? . . . And eat baked beans?

Photos for Thought

Why do Asians photograph their food?

Friday, September 11, 2009


Is it just me, or is the whole thing with calling parents-in-law "Mom" and "Dad" absolutely retarded? No one's fooling anyone. We all know who belongs to whom. It's just awkward and forced. I don't get it.

Remember What I Said About Bacon?

You can't take a kid's bacon:

Bearing Gifts

At what age did it become mandatory to show up with a gift when you go to someone's house? I hate this rule.

If you ever come to my house because I fucking invited you, don't feel obligated to bring something unless I specifically ask that favor of you. Seriously, don't invite me over your house if you expect a gift. Don't do me any favors. When I ask if you need anything before I come, that's your window of opportunity to be honest with me. Don't say, "no, I think we have everything we need," if, in fact, you don't have everything you need and are really expecting me to bring something. Deal?

Now go fuck yourself.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Our Insignificance

Came across this quote today by Stephen Jay Gould, a big-time scientist (formerly; he's dead now, seemingly sadly, though I didn't know the guy), regarding the fact that there seem to have been many failed hominid evolutionary branches, and ours was the one that survived:

"One of the hardest ideas for humans to accept is that we are not the culmination of anything. There is nothing inevitable about our being here. It is part of our vanity as humans that we tend to think of evolution as a process that, in effect, was programmed to produce us."

Well put, SJG.

Hands Free

Automatic doors, and motion-sensor sinks, soap dispensers, toilets, and paper towel dispensers make me very happy...

Tuesday, September 8, 2009


I passed one of those airport shuttle vans today, and on the side of the van was written, "We're on time or you don't pay!" Oh, gee, thanks. So if you don't properly perform the sole purpose for which I am hiring you, and I miss my $500 flight as a result, you'll forget about the $20 I was supposed to pay you to make sure I caught that flight in the first place? Yeah, that sounds fair. And that goddamn exclamation mark is just adding insult to injury, too, because it's like it's telling me I'm supposed to be excited about this worthless guarantee.

This isn't Domino's fucking Pizza, people! How about, "We're on time or you don't pay . . . the $150 it's going to cost you to reschedule your flight."? That would feel a little more like justice.

And speaking of Domino's, has anyone seen these new Jim Breuer Pizza Hut commercials, where he screams, "jackpot!" with his retarded, crack-baby eyes? Now's when I would say something like, "my, how the mighty have fallen," but I think you have to have been mighty at some point in the past for that idiom to actually apply. Pizza Hut really loves these no-longer-famous, sketch-comedy-show dropouts. Remember, Tommy Davidson, who I recently saw in a Las Vegas strip club bathroom wearing track pants and a blue tooth, used to do their P'zone commercials? Ahhh, Tommy D...

Have You Seen This? Have You Heard This?

I hate when comics open up with their little "how we doin' tonight" schtick. We'd be doing a lot better if you'd start telling jokes, buddy. If I wanted to overpay to answer questions I'd call my grandma in Israel.

Monday, September 7, 2009

Too Soon?

Is it wrong that the whole Josef Fritzel thing ( ) reminded me of the following incident? . . .

I was walking with a friend one day, long before the aforementioned story broke, when we saw a pretty hot, young, high-school girl walk by with her parents, wearing a ridiculously, inappropriately short skirt. I commented to my friend, regarding the girl, "this is why I can't have a daughter." And he responded with, "Tell me about it. If my daughter dressed like that, I'd shackle her in the basement and lock her away . . . and then I'd bang the shit out of her!"

I love my friends.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Friday, September 4, 2009


Not to step on FU, Penguin's toes or anything, but:

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Shit His Dad Says

Though I am diametrically opposed to Twitter's existence in principle, my dad says some pretty ridiculous shit. Therefore, I am willing to make an exception to appreciate this guy's hilarious dad. Check it:

Your Ass Looks Amazing in Those Jeans

There needs to be a universal font or color to indicate written sarcasm. That would save me a lot of trouble.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Mazel Tov!

One of my best friends, since first grade, is getting married this weekend. I love him like a brother . . . and for one fateful summer, like he was Heidi Klum . . . And his wife-to-be is pretty awesome too, which is so great and important, because how much does the prospect of your best friend marrying a dirty dirty bitch whore suck?! But all of this brings me to my unfortunate conclusion: weddings are so fucking presumptuous!

So let me get this straight, you two have been dating for the last six years, and now we're all supposed to feign excitement at the notion of you two . . . continuing to do the exact same thing you've been doing? Only now, it's going to cost me.

There's the bachelor party planning, the bachelor party itself, the tux fitting, the final tux fitting, the tux rental fee, the dress rehearsal, the rehearsal dinner, the photo sessions, the wedding gift . . . and this guy's as low maintenance as they come. He didn't even make us do an engagement party or anything.

Girls have it even worse! I mean, I have to do all that shit, but at least the guy's usually apologetic about it. "Sorry. I know this is a pain in the ass. It's a pain in the ass for me, too, trust me." Girls don't apologize for this stuff. They demand. It's their day and they'll be DAMNED if you're going to ruin it.

If you're a female, and you're remotely close to the bride, you have so many more responsibilities than guys. There's the bridal shower, of course. Then they have the bachelorette party, but it's so much more serious than the bachelor party. Girls send out formal invitations, they have to buy penis straws, and penis veils, and those stupid fucking tiaras! Women also have to incur the insane cost of the inevitably ugly bridesmaid dress. You know the bride always picks ugly, foofy, bow-laden dresses intentionally because she wants to make herself look extra good. And the girls really have to pretend to be excited about every step of the process or the bride will never forget. It'll be 20 years later and she'll be like, "remember how Gina didn't smile in our wedding pictures? She ruined the whole day."

And then there are the secretly bitter, jealous bridesmaids whose boyfriends haven't proposed yet (assuming they even have boyfriends) even though they've been together for two years already and they're not getting any younger, so they're resentfully gritting their teeth the whole time. You never hear a groomsman lean over to his buddy and whisper something about how he wishes he were the one getting married.

Phone Sex

A little while back I was talking to a friend of mine who was in a long-distance relationship, and he was singing the praises of phone sex. So, the curious chap that I am, I asked him to give me an example of what one session might entail. This is what he said (roughly):

"Okay, so the most recent time, we pretended like we were in my bed, naked, and, you know, we started talking about kissing each other and touching each other, and I was telling her how hot she looked, and how hard I was, and how she has a beautiful pussy . . . and I was getting really horny, so I said, 'I'm gonna put my cock inside you now.' But she was like, 'no, no, don't go inside me yet!' But I was like, 'Too late. I'm going in.'"

At that point I stopped him and said, "dude, that's not phone sex, that's phone rape! You phone raped your girlfriend!" He had phone rape.

That's all.