Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Day 87

This still doesn't explain why there's a red light at the bottom...

Line of the week: Not three episodes into Boardwalk Empire and already two blowjob scenes? 1940s? Mo' like the 19blowme's!
Today at 2:27pm: Loading the laundry while singing Madison Avenue's Don't Call Me Baby...from MEMORY!

I watched the wants-to-be-a-real-movie Skyline on Friday morning and though I walked in expecting a mildly entertaining sci-fi action film, I stumbled out feeling like an idiot. This is usually the part where I would say how much of a waste of money it was, but on this particular occasion, I was prepared. During the summer I had gone to see Up in the Air at an early screening for free, and because the movie that was being shown in DIGITAL PROJECTION restarted three times, we all received a pass for a free movie, despite the fact that we hadn't spent money on the first one. Anyways, it was a horrible movie by the pretentious and cliche directors known only ass The Brothers Strauss. The movie is absurd and goes from a science fiction art-ish drama, to an action film to the most ridiculous ending that yields in the message: You can't stop love, because love is in the brain.

It starts off with actors we've seen in commercials and TV shows, all of which are 6-7 on the attractiveness scale, and 3-4 on the personality people-can-relate-to scale. Then we're introduced with aliens, kinda and there's a lot of fighting and small scenes that don't really lead to anything of interest. Eventually the military starts fighting back and we experience all this through a telescope that zooms like a digital camera and can track planes flying at hundreds of miles per hour and nuclear warheads with an amazing amount of success. Then some more arguing happens and some people die and the two main characters fight one of the aliens on the roof of the apartment building that the aliens seem REALLY interested in. If you're wondering what happens, the alien attacks the girl with its giant vaginal lips until her boyfriend/reluctant-father-of-her-child uses his intellect to discover the alien's crucial weakness: excessive punching to the head...which is exactly how he kills it. Anyways, they start getting sad and as the alien ship sucks them up, they kiss as they float up the air like reverse skydiving filmed by Lance Bass. Then the unstoppable power of love is showcased and you get the most ridiculous ending since Next.

I'm reading a book on the life cycle by Erik Erikson, though focusing more on the identity stage through adolescence. It's very nerdy, yes. Hell, I get random urges to read through the week, and I get to my room and grab one of the many books I have laying around that I haven't finished and actively read and make faces as I react to the content! I don't really know when or why I even bought it. As I think about it, however, this is probably my way of dealing with a lack of identity, which is something you'd think I would have worked out by now. Instead, I'm too busy focusing all my hate on ridiculous things like why lesbians, when they've clearly made their choice, still purchase and utilize dildos and other phallic products. If I owned a sex shop, which is an unlikely event, I wouldn't sell a single penis-shaped product to lesbians. They want vaginas 24/7? They can have 'em. As your unelected yet official Guyperson, I vow to never sell anything round to the lesbo community...whether it's real or not! Pick one and stick with're almost as greedy as the bisexuals.

On Saturday, I went to the apartment of a friend (Zack) of a friend (Marc), and was fortunate enough to arrive in the middle of four person jam session. When they finished, they mentioned that their neighbors had complained earlier about how loud they were playing. I had the idea for them to only play Michael Jackson music since it's considered a hate crime to not like it.
Neighbor: Knocks on door
One's self: Hey, what can I do for you?
Neighbor: Well, what you could do for me is turn your damn volume down! Some of us prefer to watch Family Feud, despite the fact that we couldn't tell you who the current host is since they seem to keep quitting every month!
One's self: Hey man, we're playing Michael Jackson covers...and he's dead!
Neighbor: What? I don-
One's self: He's DEAD! As in, never coming back alive.
Neighbor: ...yeah, but you can see him in a documentary and all his songs are on iTunes and I've eve-
One's self: But HE, that person, Michael Jackson, is no longer alive...don't you have any respect for the death of a famous person?
Neighbor: ...
One's self: Well thanks for stopping by, but I've gotta go; this compensation for the lack of a father figure isn't drowned out by itself!

I imagine that's what happens in a world where people think...'n stuff.

They also offered me coffee while I was there and since I don't normally enjoy the java, I said "No thanks," and by limiting my experiences and not doing something out of the ordinary, I have nothing to talk about. See how much life sucks when you say "no"? In a way, it's the MPAA of your brain; unnecessary and rarely-correct self regulation.

I was talking to Billy at Denny's (The restaurant, not the house of someone with the unfortunate name of Denny, which sounds like the homosexual version of Dennis) about technology, and we eventually came upon the topic of scientific advancements. To be precise; scientific advances stemming from the Nazi's experiments during the holocaust. Granted, it's easy to learn about something when you don't care what you do to it, but it's still astounding how much we learned about people through the holocaust. Pun only intended if understood.

My point is this, if I had to be a Nazi, and I'm not saying that I want to be a Nazi (I don't look good in neutral colors). If I was forced to be a Nazi manperson, like through some extravagant series of events where I obviously made the wrong decision time after time or an uncommon financial situation, then I would have to be the guy who pulls the levers that look like Bugs Bunny would use against his enemies. I'm assuming, of course, that I would be living in a world where choosing to be a Nazi would actually be a safer alternative to who know what. One would think pulling the switch that kills would be a horrible job to have, but think about how easy it would be and how high of a status your fellow Nazi-ites would give you.

Now that I'm thinking about the social structure of the Nazi's, I'm curious. I fully acknowledge that no good will eventually become of this, but do you think they kept a record of how many antiNazi's each had killed and boasted it to their friends? As a lever-puller, one would likely always have the highest number while doing the least of the physical work...though burdened to carry a significantly larger emotional workload than the others. Is this an acceptable trade? I would be inclined to disagree, unless you were allowed to say one liners before you pulled said lever. Something like "Ya burnt!" or "Does this open the garage door?" and "Weird, I can't get it this time, it's like something I can't see is trying to sto-Oh, there it goes. Whew, almost had to call the I.T. douchebags, always with their jokes about my insecurity as a man, and that I have to kill hundreds of Jews a day just to feel validated and accepted by the other men in my society that seem to have their shit together. I'm masculine GODDAMN IT!"

That's one insecure Nazi.

This week, I leave you with one of my favorite online videos, Hard Gay. It's an absolute treat for the whole family! Here's the one where he visits the Yahoo! offices, parts 1 and 2. Enjoy! Like Coke!

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Day 86

Grass often feels like pants when you're see-through.

Line of the Week: A lot of people like to blame Method Acting or drugs for Heath Ledger's death. Personally, I blame Christopher Nolan.

Here's a quote from a Google News article that was posted on that infamous social-vomit page known only as the facebook "news" feed. Here's the pitch:
A planned website, Harrasmap, will allow women to quickly report instances of harassment via text message or Twitter, to be loaded onto a digital map of Cairo to show hotspots and areas that might be dangerous for women to walk alone. The data will be shared with activists, media, and police.
So women are going to be raped and/or harassed and the first thing they're expected to do is pull out their phones and tweet their live-raping? Now, I don't know who's getting raped but not harassed, but this all seems pretty stupid. Will rapists have access to this information? Yes. Will they start hanging out near areas that are marked as "safe zones?" No doubt. Telling people where you've been raped is just as useful as telling people where you tripped in public, it's interesting information with little, if any, practical use.

For Halloween next year, I'm going to go as Marty McFly and have my girlfriend go as Lorraine McFly, because you simply can't beat a good incest gag.

I was babysitting my aunt's kids and when I took them for a walk (White parents in my subdivision do it, so it can't be bad), they started whining, as kids often do. Now, I'm no stranger to complaining, but kids complain about the most ridiculous things sometimes. It began with asking if they could go back to grab a PSP or something, then if I could drive them to a convenience store after to get candy and eventually led to saying that their feet hurt. At this very moment, my mouth made a decision without consulting my brain because I intensely explained that "There are kids in Africa who can't even afford feet!" Wisdom, consider yourself cream cheese because you've just been spread.

Things that bother me to the point of mentioning:
  • Mobile version of web sites
  • Straight ticket voting
  • Milk that's not whole...that is to say, incomplete milk.(Looking at you, 1%)
  • The colors red and green. Likely due to my colorblindness.
I went to a Hong Kong Food Market with my friend Marc for his Asian Literature class, which goes to show that they'll teach anything if you know enough about it, regardless of its practicality, or lack thereof. As we near the store, I start making a joke that the parking lot is going to be full of white Hondas and Toyotas, along with a bunch of old cars that just blend in. Cars so boring, your eyes don't even register them as a viable transportation option. Pulling in, what do I see but five white vehicles parked within thirty feet of eachother, proving that sometimes, racism is worth it.

Once inside, we head to what we assumed would be the most Chinese part of the Chinese SUPA-MARKET; the fish aisle. On our way, we passed a lunch table in front of what was the Chinese butcher's shop, where you could buy a duck for less than $15. We were starving and seriously considering buying a duck to eat while we walked around. Marc said that would never work, while I was convinced it would if we were to buy some plates in the plates aisle, some chopsticks in the woodware aisle and some napkins in the American products aisle. While he was looking around, I snapped pictures of interesting products.

The Chinese make Basil Seed Drink, Grass Jelly Drink, and Sierra Mist, which I assume is Chinese for Coke Suck. This is a big reason why I hate the Chinese...who drink Pepsi. Untrustworthy.

In America, everything says Made in China. In China, food says Made in USA.

Even the Chinese have their own version of a tortilla. How progressive of them!

When you use two sticks to eat your food, you realize the plate Americans give to their kids is going be your best option.

I don't get this picture. Who is ordering Banana Sauce and why is it not yellow and/or white? Also, who is disgusting enough to eat something called Banana Sauce made by UFC? I don't like where that's leading, those guys excrete worse shit than just insecurity and illiteracy.

This is a normal sized stick for a Chinese person, but a midget-beating stick for a regular sized person...or an African dildo...or what a chopstick looks like in my abnormally-skinny hands. I think they lent these out to the Japs for dolphin killing.

"Eyeround" Steak? Really? You guys aren't fooling anyone. There's no way to fix your eyes or gain peripheral vision; that's what you get for being born a Chinese. It's just science from god and that Zedong fellow.

Sweet Pineapple Gel? Is this what UFC makes guys rub on each other before a fight? Why is UFC making so many fruity products? I feel like there's something there...UFC...fruits...hmmm. I guess it's just one of those things we'll never understand.

A friend was watching Back to the Future because of its recent anniversary, and I have to ask: What the fuck is up with Marty's mom: Lorraine? I'm referring to that woman's deep psychological issues. When Marty beats Biff by eluding him into a truck full of poop (A common profession in the 1950s), she gets so wet she FOLLOWS HIM HOME. Do you know how fucking insane that is? To see someone beat another person up, follow them home without their knowledge and then knock on the door with obvious sexual intentions. Then, when George punches Biff before his rape scene, but after the cleavage/incest scene (My favorite), she completely forgets about Marty and whether he's alive or not. Then, following the white guy calling the black guys/reefer-addicts/musicians spooks, there's another scene where George is pushed by some douche and drags Lorraine off, presumably to rape her. If there's any piece of information you should leave this film with, rape was quite rampant in the white, suburbia, high school dances of the 1950s. Also, blacks were the only good musicians, reefer addicts and stole music from young, white students.

Similarly,there's been people who think it's weird that Marty McFly hangs out with a scientist who is clearly significantly older than him, but the reasons are obvious. George McFly, in the initial timeline, is bullied by Biff and his gang of minions (Plus the guy with the 3D glasses) and in turn, becomes a push over. This leads to him having even lower confidence than before, causing him to be a mentally and socially absent father and husband, creating a weak family scared of failure and excitement. Enter Doc Brown, Marty's father figure. He's more energetic, intelligent and engaging than his own father, the one person he doesn't want to be. After going back in time and putting his father in a situation that allows his life to changed in a way that improves his self worth, he gives himself the father he's always wanted. It's not about fixing the timeline, but about feeling fulfilled as a son.

That's all for now, tune in next time for another psychological cinematic analysis...or don't! Please do? Ok, we'll see. I'll leave you with one of my favorite animated gifs I came across years ago:

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Day 85

This is what my job is going to be, are you as excited as I am? Don't be.

Line of the week: "the ugly guys kept acting all queer" -a fellow "student's" example of what NOT to write in an cultural anthropology participant observation ethnography paper

An important announcement (Although not one that justifies any kind of exclamation marks or words in all caps): I'm going to try stories...and some other stuff. That's all.

I was at work last Tuesday being a "bartender" and whatnot, when something not-not-worth talking about occurred. Keep in mind that this already took place, so this is just like reading a brand new history text book written by a nerd/comedian/linguistic enthusiast instead of boring white know white people, they're so boring, with all their money, power and generally greater affluence. "Poo on them" is what I say, whenever I'm at a restaurant that serves lemonade with free refills. Anyways, back to the event. I'm working at the bar and out of my left peripheral vision, I see something dark and potentially intriguing walking towards the front of the glass doors between the bar and the parking lot.

I look away to clean a glass like they do in cowboy movies, and look out to see this black shemale that looked a lot like the black alien guy from Star Trek (I don't care, so don't tell me). He/she was about 5'5", with a fivehead that lit up underneath the 1960s lights outside the building and had calves protruding from the back of his/her figure more than his/her ass...though not as much as those mammoth thighs that could kill an MMA child-support-avoider...err, "fighter."

After waving at me and me giving the standard fake-smile, he/she motions through the glass if he/she can come inside with his/her cigarette and I give him/her this look like "Umm, did you not read the City of Houston Smoking Ordinance from September 1st 2007?" and he/she's like "Ok, I'll finish this up." Now my comedian mind kicks in with the standard narcissism "This bitch is going to say some weird shit, but he/she doesn't know I've heard jokes about rape since I was in middle school. Bring it person whom I could smugly defeat in a spelling bee." He/She walks in and says "You look like you want to get your dick sucked when you get off work." (But much "blacker", I couldn't find any Ebonix Language Support in Microsoft Word)

I immediately replied with "Oh, thank you so much, but I just got two of them recently so I'm good. I appreciate it though. To be frank, I'm kind of up to my shoulders in blowjobs." However, as I was saying that, two thoughts immediately hugged my mind-grapes in reaction to what she had said. 1)....Ummm, is that what you got from all that? Because those were not the non-verbal messages I was intending to send, at this interpersonal communication." 2) Are we talking about this going down, for free?...or are you looking for money? Because I m not paying for a gay blowjob. If it's free and it gets out, I can tell people I was blowjob raped. Which, I think we can all agree, is the worst possible rape of all. As in THE WORST. Out of all the rapes that could happen to you, and there are many, I can't think of a single kind, aside from the one that I'm talking about, that can even be compared with the horrific and unparalleled disgust...of a blowjob rape. Oh look...

This is an original photograph of 3 Initech employees savagely
beating a horse despite it obviously being fake and dead.

The shemal and I end up talking, since my girlfriend denied my application to receive a blowjob at no cost to her...she never lets me do anything! He/she tells me that he/she had just caught his/her, I assume gay, boyfriend of three years with another woman in a bed and home that he/she "dances 5 days of out the week for." I'm a human being in a relationship of three monthsish. I want to help. I do what I would do in any situation like this and ask myself: What would Liz Lemon do? In true fashion to the lifestyle I've chosen for myself, at the assured yet necessary disappointment of my parents, I reply with "Three years and he cheated on you? In your bed that you pay for in the home you pay for? If that was me, that'd be a DEALBREAKER."

He/she sees the computer screen where I place orders and create contextual-based comically-named tables and asks if he/she could order something on the screen and if it would tell the kitchen to make it. I tell him/her that I could, but there's no way he/she's getting back here, and yes, all food orders go to the kitchen, liquor orders come to the bar and good luck getting a soft drink on a weekday. I turn around to make some drinks and as I look up to see what he/she's up to, two cops come in and begin asking him/her if they can talk. He/She starts protesting and they take him/her around to the side of the building to question him/her. Naturally, this takes two-and-a-half hours and with a total of FOUR different cops, because getting four identical cops would be absolutely stupid. In the end (i.e. When my food arrived), they take him/her away and  as the cop leaves, he answers the only question I cared to ask: They booked her as a male.

I'm so used to being on top of replacing condoms that when I forget, I literally have to deal with stuff falling out of my wallet until I buy more. I'm unsure as to whether this is funny or weird, but it's a fact I have to live with that I don't really know what to do with. It's taking up space in my brain and something tells me that such a space could be filled with something better suited to my future, like how to most effectively bring back the word jabroni, something I've been attempting to do for almost four months now. I suppose I would be fine with how to stop writing so many fucking run-on sentences...

A friend asked me if I ever wake up to crusty hands, referring to nocturnal emissions all over your sleepy hands. I said no, because in my dreams, I actually fuck people. Not masterbate to a DREAM. How sad of a life do you need to have to where even in your dreams, you can't get laid.

Whenever I'm at work and see a server close out a tab, only to receive a declined credit card slip, my favorite thing to do is to quickly jump facing them and in the most childish sing-songy way, tease them with "Ha ha! Your customers are po-or. Your customers are po-or. You're customers hit their kids because that's what they grew up with. Your customers prefer to spend money on over-priced food and a movie than be responsibly adults. Your customers don't read." The song is still being built, maybe a beta will be available soon, but that's not true.

I'm transferring to Texas State in San Marcos, TX next semester because I've definitely made the right decisions in life. A friend of mine was telling me how those morning after pills, Plan-B, are only $10 in San Marcos as opposed to $30 in Houston, and I said "Well that's because that entire town is plan-b." I'm not saying going to TX State is like getting an abortion, but lets just say they're both rarely something you plan on doing. The only place in the same category is Texas Tech. Let's be honest, Lubbock wouldn't even be on a US map if they didn't have so many Walmarts.

I'm majoring in Marketing because I don't believe in god and need something to pay the bills until I can do stand up as a "career." Did you know that 100% of immigrant parents would cry if they read that? I do.

I could never be a doctor. Not just because I get squemish around blood, but because I don't want to operate on some random ethnic person. Have you ever stood near someone from India? I would much rather operate on the white guy, I bet he washes his hands and showers on a daily basis. I suppose I could be the racist doctor, the Mel Gibson to Hawk-eye's misogyny.

Well that's about it. Until next week, how about writing that entire story with both pronouns conjugated correctly? I bet that was almost as much a bitch to write as it was to read! If you ever tell this story out loud, make sure to refer to the character as a her. She may have been born a guy, but if she went through all that trouble, discrimination and hate to identify herself in a way that takes less than a syllable to change in how you address it and make her day.

Also, the trailer for Four Lions, a movie about terrorists in England who are basically just idiots like you and everyone that's not you.

Here's a bonus video.

For the record, the only reason I posted this is because I've never been able to have a bad day after hearing a child curse. It's an event that mixes shock and joy into a beautiful emotion that is similar to the one that happens when an old person says something racist or when a conservative cheats on his wife with multiple gay men. Aside from that, the video seems like it was written by an angry 9-year old with early signs of mental instability. All I'm saying is that, THAT is not how you package your message.

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Day 84

I'm actually apathetic to Katy...but not to the Perrys.

Chinese people are funny...or Indians...or Mexicans...or whatever the fuck those guys are.

LOTW: Why is mother's day a bigger event than father's day? Because dads hit harder...

On the UT "Shooter" CANNOT be called a shooter unless you...wait for it...SHOOT SOMEONE!! This guy wasn't a terrorist. He wasn't a shooter. He wasn't a killer. He was a waste of an AK-47. I doubt I'll ever kill someone for the sole fact that it's too risky and I could get caught, however, if I was given an AK-47 at a college, 90% of all my bullets fired would come in contact with someone else, with the last couple saved for yours truly. Also, have any of ya'll ever even seen an AK-47? They're pretty big when they've got a stock attached, and they're pretty heavy, so props to whatshisname for being able to turn the gun around on himself and actually successfully commit suicide before getting caught. Ok, go back to class and quit bitching about whatever you're bitching about.

I feel like we fucked up as a developing race by getting rid of slavery. If we're a species started by aliens (If hieroglyphics and Indiana Jones 4 were of any indication, we ARE), and they gave us the idea and practice of slavery...then when they come back, they are going to be PISSED. I don't have a joke for this I just wish I had a slave to drive me while I do dirty-nothings in my backseat. She'd be around my age, a brunette, glasses, about 5 feet and 4 1/2 inches and her name would be Tina Fey.

I was thinking about how crazy the concept of getting an autograph really is. When you ask for an autograph, you essentially want proof that you met the autographs are basically just receipts for people you've met. This idea interests me because I like to see what people do with people-receipts. Black people tend to use them as alibi's because they know you can't trust them, White people use them for tax purposes, and Mexicans don't know what taxes are.

I don't understand kissing. I mean, I like it, a lot, but it doesn't really make any sense. Where does passion and the idea "Hey, let me punch your mouth with my mouth" come together? Also, the mouth is the filthiest and most germ and bacteria infested area in your body. Why would you want put the dirtiest part of your body into the other dirtiest part of your significant other? The only thing dirtier would be to just rub both sides of your hand on their tongue. Yeah, just think about doing that...let it set in your mind-grapes. Our mouths are actually dirtier than a penis (or vagina), that's why it doesn't make sense to wash your hands AFTER you pee. If anything, you should wash your hands BEFORE you pee, so you don't get your penis (or vagina) dirty. The last thing you want is a dirty penis, especially if it's sweaty, because then the dirt and sweat and make penis-sweat-mud and it will smell like something a yak vomiting after going to Taco Bell, drinking half a gallon of spoiled whole milk and a bucket full of pubes.

...although that might have gone a bit too far, It didn't.

Now, I know this site is pretty basic, but mark these words: One day, when my life gets off the ground, I'll have the money to be able to finally create a website as beautiful as this guy (Click on him for the site!):

Sponsored by MS Paint and a very intoxicated 6-year old lesbian with Parkinson's Disease.

One of the best parts of not having online classes is that I get the joy of interacting with people all day long and adapting appropriately. For instance, today someone was talking about the Tea Party or Gay Marriage, I can't remember, they're both pretty homosexual though, and they began their "statement" by saying that they've "read the bible and stuff." Whenever people say stuff like that, I know it's time to talk to my neighbors, lock eyes with my professor and give them a "Check out this guy's research" look or my personal favorite, open a bag of chips while they're talking...a term I'm using VERY loosely.

For my first exam of the semester I decided to be a good boy and get to class early and instead of cramming last minute stuff I wont remember, I ended up just listen to my professor talk about his marriage. This is how the pre-exam conversation went:
Professor: You know what I've learned from 14 years of marriage?
Class: ...
Professor: The longer you're married, the earlier in the day you need to start foreplay.
Class: Hahaha // groans // haha
Me: ::raise my hand::
Professor: Yes?
Me: Oh, umm... What's "foreplay?" Is that golf related?
Class: Hahaha
Professor and Class: Random banter while I be a nerd on my phone.
Professor: Alright, let me shut the door so we can get started. Is the next chapter in the book about Intimacy & Sex or Conflict Resolution?
Me: What's the difference?

Badum, TISSS! Thanks everyone, I'll be here all semester!!

I feel as if the most dangerous race combination is Asian and blacks. I can't really explain my reasoning but I just know that if you know someone who's Asian, I'm willing to bet they would rather hang out with anyone but those colored folks. To be fair, Asian people tend to be at least four times more racist than any other race, and that includes white people. Have any of you ever seen a black woman date an Asian guy? Would you like to? Me too, but I'm scared of the outcome. Something tells me that if the entire black community could enslave a race, they'd get the Asians and then use them against the whites...a little yellow fever can go a long way when all the Lucy Liu and Zyang Ziyis of the world are all snatched up. Hell, just look at Mark Zuckerberg; the youngest billionaire on the planet and what's the only thing of his every nerd or male in general would kill for? His Asian woman.

A black lady came into my Digital Imaging class to print something or other and as she left she asked my professor, albeit loud enough for the entire class to hear: "Ya'll aint got no women in dis class?!!" Immediately, the two girls in the class turned around and made themselves known by saying something I didn't hear because a MAN next to me was saying something. The lady laughs it off, says "my bad" (classic) and then asks what class this was. Without missing a beat I said "Misogyny 2302" and immediately put my professor in the most awkward position possible. Would you like to know the worst part? Nothing interesting happened. She just left after saying "You're funny, bye!" before I could even say "I know."

So I normally wouldn't do this but after a pretty long chunk of the single life full of promiscuity, apathy and fairly consistent narcissism, I've begun what I would assume is called a "real" relationship. I'm not exactly sure I know what it means, aside from the fact that quotation marks make it sound super serious, but I'm happy. We're only a few months in and still in the infatuation stage but I'm definitely happy with my ginger. Yes, you read that correctly. I'm dating a redhead and I couldn't be more fucking ecstatic about it. I don't even tell people her name before I tell them she's a redhead. I can officially cross "redhead" off of my list of future case you're wondering, there's only four left and that Asian one is going to be a little harder than I expected. Oh, and like all gingers, she lacks a soul but when you get down to it souls are for bible-fuckers to parade around, black people to lose and white people's to sell.

Alright, that's it until next week so go see The Social Network and prepare to have your mind-grapes blown to bits.

Friday, September 10, 2010

Day 83

The perfect snack for your beloved pedophiles!

LOTW: I'm like The Jeffersons of bitches! I'm just movin' on up! -Me...I don't know.

Have you ever gotten so drunk you try to make a snow angel during the summer, inside, on your tile floor while facing down? Me neither.

I recently realized that it's going to be impossible for me to have a normal restroom experience. Last week I was in the restroom of a movie theater. Using the urinal furthest from the door, a kid takes the mini-urinal a few spots down and as his stream becomes audible, some old guy with grey hair comes in, stands next to him. He then proceeds to ask the kid what he thought of the movie and other stuff that shouldn't be mentioned in a place where your mouth should rarely be open. By this point, they're both peeing quite loudly, I'm trying to make it look like I'm still peeing without being obvious about my eavesdropping, so I go wash my hand and my favorite part happens. The kid finishes, walks out without washing his as the old guy exclaims: "Where are you going? Don't leave me!" Which I'm pretty sure you're not allowed to say to a nine-year-old, unless you yourself are nine-years-old.

My friend Marc has a really shitty couch. It's so shitty he bought a blanket to put on top so the experience of its horrendous smell and fabric escapes the ignorant guests that happen upon it. After seeing it's true and hideous nature, a friend said "It's not THAT bad." He was mistaken, so I proceeded to correct him with the following logic: Based on the couch's shoddy workmanship and selection of fabric, it was likely made in the mid/late 60s, we were born in the mid/tale 80s...this couch is so fucking old, it was considered out and out-dated before we were even born. The moral ? Don't trust couches you're not allowed to see.

I was watching TV recently and as I was scrolling through the on-screen guide, I found two shows with the most straightforward and almost-unappealing titles I have ever read. The first was George Washington Slept Here. I love it, it tells you exactly how bored you're going to be, right before you don't watch it. The other was called The Woman with Half a Body. Not sober, I axed my surrounding friends if they thought it was going to be a woman with the top or bottom half. We eventually decided it was probably the top since the bottom, while much more attractive (Read: Less annoying), would probably only reach the demographic of males 18-24. The top half, however, would reach the demographic of all women and gays because it was probably an hour-long show about some woman whining about how she can't meet a decent guy who can look past the half that he will never have sex if he marries her...or she'll get lockjaw from all the blowjobs she'll have to give just to keep him around. Don't get me wrong, I love blowjobs, but no mouth, regardless of how small and/or young it is, will ever compensate for a proportionately-sized vagina....and that's why I call this blog The Greater Truth.

Did you understand Inception? I know Xzibit did.

I was watching a movie in a movie theater recently (I know, how nerdy of me), and as soon as the lights dimmed, a woman looked back at me as if it was time to shut up. I was feeling...bold and intelligent and proceeded to explain where she made a mistake and said "Ma'am, I'm a big movie nerd, I know how this works. The lights go dim = We take our seats. Commercials begin = We talk to drown out the bullshit. Trailers come on = You say the last thing you think is important and then shut just as the production company's logo pops up." Now, I ended up repeating this to some friends, and I found out that this is not the case for black people.

I did some research and found out that when you're black and running on CP time it goes more like this:
  • The lights dim - They put out the blunt in their car's ashtray.
  • Commercials begin - They buy their tickets and go inside the lobby.
  • Trailers start - They wait until everyone is inside and then go into the theater as a group.
  • Movie kicks off - They noisily get to the seats in the place that's most difficult to get to.
  • 5-20min into the movie - They sit snickering to eachother
  • 30+ minutes in - All hell fucking breaks loose and they get loud
  • 45min in - An angry white person has told the manager and they've come in to get them to leave.
  • In the lobby - They try to get their money back, and when they don't, they say "This is bullshit" and go kill a random white person.
  • After the movie - Half of the theater demands a refund and instead they get free passes to live through this experience again!

I don't think I really even need to justify this. I know this exists and I have no idea what to do with this information. Spread it, I suppose.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Day 82

This image was taken right before they died, because this shit is getting out of hand.

LOTW: I don't know, but smell me, quick! -Dream talk

There's a new Lady Gaga sex doll that goes by the professional and stage name of Lady Gag-gag. The tag lines for the doll include "She loves it when you Poke her face" and "She's so dirty, even her doll smells!" And to that, I say, Happy 4th of July! America!!

A lot of people like to think the BP oil spill won't affect them. I'm here to tell you you're wrong. You may say "But Homero, I never go outside, I prefer to stay inside and play video games and shoot brown people." and I would reply "I love doing that too, but you know those barrels next to the cluster of enemies that you can shoot to cause an enormous explosion? If there's no more oil, there's no more barrels to shoot." Think about it.

In the Obama Administration's Remake of the Karate Kid, the film begins with Jaden Smith putting on his best sad face and looking at the door frame that features his marked growth. The director then shows us that his father is dead by including a shot of the height marks and highlighting one that reads: DADDY DIED. As if that's the very first thing every child does upon hearing about the death of a parent or loved one. Then the movie actually starts and you get the first taste of the soundtrack. Make sure to memorize the name of the music supervisor so you can look them up on IMDB and make sure to never watch another movie they work on again.

Once they finally get to China, they just happen to meet a white kid who also happens to play basketball, which as some of you may know, is a treasured African tradition. It's almost as if the studios were refusing to give them money until they made sure one white kid with blond hair was portrayed as a genuine good person. After meeting the lovely Aryan child, you're introduced to the most absolutely EVIL Chinese kid, who's only mission is to just defecate on this single black kid's happiness. All the while the Yank acts like a typical white guy and just watches disapprovingly like "Hey, don't look at me, I didn't tell the kid to look at people with a mixture of confusion and fussiness." Back to the Chinese kid though, because when he zeros in on Jaden Smith, he FUCKS HIS SHIT UP! It was so violent and full of hatred I couldn't stop laughing at its intensity. I really wanted to see this Chinese kid kill what was probably the only black child he's ever seen, and IN FRONT OF THE KID'S OWN MOTHER! Now THAT would've been a hell of a movie, it could've ended with him eventually fighting against Barack Obama. Oh well, maybe in the sequel....which they are planning.

In the end, it was a good story, the black kid makes out with the Chinese chick after she plays DDR in front of him to the tune of Lady Gaga. This sounds like I'm making it up but it's true, it even finishes by the game saying "You're Hott!" Every pedophile gave this movie 10 Horrified-Parents out of 10 horrified-parents. In the end, Jaden Smith uses black magic to beat the Chinese minion and Jackie Chan learns the valuable and often forgotten lesson that black people are people too.

Does chicken pox still exist? Are kids around the world still being held back by the crippling disease that plagues more children than chickens despite it's namesake? Do underdeveloped countries still feel the pain of being constantly itchy? How can we, as Americans, allow this abomination to continue? When will white-science step up and say "We've had it with chicken pox! We're putting down these Cialis 2: Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger pills and working on The Pox-Cok-Block!"

I want to get into an argument with someone and get them riled up until they yell at me "GO FUCK YOURSELF!" so that I can then angrily reply with "I ALREADY DID THAT TWICE THIS MORNING, BUT IF IT WILL CALM YOU DOWN THEN I'LL SEE WHAT I CAN DO!!"

I think it's safe to say that no one cares about Jews, Muslims can't be trusted anymore (Then again, could they ever?) and everyone wants Christians to just shut the fuck up...but what about the Kwanzaa bullshit? It's growing in popularity every year and pretty soon we're going to start getting black christmas movies made by people other than Tyler Perry. Once that happens...all is lost. All I'm saying is that we need to stop stocking every Walgreens and CVS with Kwanzaa products and hope it dies out on its own.

This little story is one I've been meaning to post but wrote it in my stand up file and forgot about it a couple months ago:

I went to Denny's Diner, which is like a regular Denny's except it's almost exclusively for black people. Now, I did not know this at the time, so naturally, I went after smoking like 3 bowls with some friends. Now, to give you an idea of who I'm with, I've got a friend who also happens to be a gay and could NOT do ONE push-up to save his life. Then we have 2 girls, one is an art major, so you know one of us is going to have to lend her some money, and the other is not only the youngest and most sheltered of the bunch, but is also one inch away from being a legal midget. So we've got four high college students, of which, I'm the strongest...which is like having a Holocaust survivor defend you. On a side note, you know you're a pretty shitty posse when the comedian has the most money.

So we pull into the parking lot and I already feel out of place because of the cars we parked next to. First of all, there was a taxi, and considering there are approximately eight cabs in Houston, all of which are driven by black guys, it did not seem as this trip would bode well for at least one of us. On the other side, however, there was a station wagon with wood panels that is probably owned by an old racist black guy who may or may not like to yell at people my age. The car next to that guy was the one that really bothered me, it was a recently parked El Camino (I could tell because the rims were still spinning) with the windows tinted so much you could tie three white people together, set them on fire, throw them in the car with the doors shut and you wouldn't be able to see a thing. Although the screaming would definitely tip someone off eventually, because let's be honest, white people love to scream like little bitches...kinda like how black people like to scream as if someone cares.

So my 3 friends and I walk into this diner, which is L-shaped, and are seated in the very back-CORNER of the restaurant, where we couldn't be seen, or "identified" from the front door. We are so far away from the black customers I couldn't start an interracial food-fight if I wanted to. As I look around to inspect my surroundings, I see we're seated under the only painting in the entire building with white people in it, as if they're supposed to protect us when the inevitable gang fight begins. That's about the time I noticed that it was actually a painting filled with dead white people! I don't know how it got past important while people but this image was disturbing to someone in my state of mind and made me wait for my expected death. As it turned out though, black people really know how to do manual labor. For my understanding and bravery, I was awarded the most delicious burger I had had in months.

Alright my little lions or lambs, until next time: Lindsey Lohan breaking probation is NOT news.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Day 81...War.

Chinaman Go Boom
He ran to it because he thought it was a big penis a giant left behind that no one was using.

Don't you forget that this film was a documentary!!
It is funny because they are not intel - li - gent.

Hitler + Watermelon = YUMMMMMMM!!
Looks like the blacks have got some 'splainin' to do to the Jews...all this time, Hitler was black.

LOTWs: I use the same razor for my pubes and face because I just don't give a fuck. -Random person

A corndog is just a hotdog with a delicious sweater - Some guy's chalkboard on ESPN

I haven't updated THIS in a while. I've been busy doing stuff or not doing stuff so I haven't really been taking note of too much. I'm sure I'll get back into the swing of things soon, or not, who knows, really? I've been too busy writing everything funny into stand up jokes that this barely gets any content. Then again, I've also been writing a lot of jokes that I know are never going to get any stage time because they're not funny enough or just long anecdotes. Like this one: I finally watched my first episode of Law and Order: SVU. Although it should DEFINITELY be retitled Rape Victims Unit. I saw an episode where a chick gets raped, lets call her Rape Victim 1. Halfway through the rape she beats the fucking shit out of the guy and calls an ambulance for him, which I found both badass and extremely amusing. Anyways, when he wakes up in the hospital, he tells the cops "Oh, she wanted me to rape her" which I figured was probably true, but since it's still illegal, I knew it was going to have to be special circumstances. As it turned out, she DID want it...well, not in so many words, at least. Apparently, someone created an account as her on a sexual fantasy site and got a guy to rape her...and that "someone" turned out to be her stalker ex-boyfriend...who was raped his ENTIRE childhood (Rape Victim 2). Two rape victims that used to date, who knew rape and love could be so close to eachother...oh wait, I did.

Later, the judge of the case tells a cop that his children were kidnapped as...well, kids, and he eventually found out that they had been raped and killed and buried, along with almost 20 other kids, in places known only to the pervert (Who was also raped, so Rape Victim 3). When the pervert was later caught, he gave a very detailed description of everything...except the location of the bodies. Slowly, and one-by-one, he gave up the information to every child's body except the judge's son. The cop, suggested by the judge because he knew of his aggressiveness, tortures RV3 until her gets the location...and it turns out there was no body!! Hahaha, oh man, the judge was sooooo sad he disappeared for a couple weeks until the cops busted in his house and find that he killed RV2's father!! Here's the twist, RV2's father was the pervert who took him from the judge!! Meaning.....that RV2 was almost sentenced to life in jail by his own father! Oh, and the chick from the beginning, RV1? She's never seen again. They pretty much told the most innocent and undeserving person in the story to fuck off. Even better though, would you like to know how the Law and Order: SVU writers explain all this at the end? They don't, the credits pop up and it leads into something just as fucking absurd...kinda like this.

Lately, I've been watching a lot of The Boondocks, in fact, I'm about to get started on the 2nd season, and I've managed to catch some of the new the newest episode. This show is greatly(!) hilarious and awesomely animated. In the latest one, however, it spawned a hatred of "Old Niggas" that always be hatin'. In keeping with the war-themed animations up there and the title of this entry (Brain Penetration?), I will now be declaring war on Old Niggas around the world! I will not stand for the death of Bushido Brown:

...or as he's known in real life: Black Dynamite!

Hey! The next time you're in high school and have the strongest desire to go to Mexico and help smuggle immigrants into the US...Don't.

I recently found out Mardi Gras was originally in October, but was moved to February once October became Breast Cancer month...yeah, apparently scars don't get you any extra beads. Besides, no guy wants to throw beads they spent their child-support money on at women with Tits: Version 1 and a half.

I wonder how often Yoga instructors are approached by students after a session and ask them where to get the best dro...

A customer asked me during Sex and the City 2 if I was single. When I said yes, she asked me if working that movie was like working at an amusement park. I replied "Not really, it's more like a buffet." Basically, the women come out in droves, with each even more disposable and wet than the last. Every time the "Australian rugby players" came on screen I could feel the humidity in the theater triple, it was certainly an experience.

You know, sometimes I get really nerdy, pull out a calculator and figure out random math problems like:
  • If I were to get 67 cents every time I caught a homeless guy attempt to defecate on a cat, I'd be almost 23 dollars richer!!
  • If a baby fetus is basically the same size as a quarter, then the "life" of a fetus is worth about 25 cents...but once you factor in the amount of money it actually costs to raise it, abortion becomes a financial necessity!

I've been doing some thinking and I'm pretty sure getting Down's Syndrome is the way to go in life. I mean, think about it, you're always happy. It's not like you know you have the syndrome because even if someone wanted to tell you, you're lacking in so many brain functions that you wouldn't be able to understand it anyway. Also, your life expectancy is pretty low and chances are you'll end up dying long before any real or devastating shit can happen to you. The best part of all? You never have to worry about what to wear on a date!!

I don't think enough people have said "I sure picked a hell of a day to quit picking my nose." I would quite like to hear it in a dramatic context.

I think a good prank would be to get a couple sticks of Big Red gum, cut it into little pieces, put them inside someone's eye drops, shake it up, take out any solid pieces and watch as hilarity ensues.

Hey look!!: Google Chrome is faster than lighting!

Oh, and here's Werner Herzog narrating Where's Waldo:

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Day 80

Hahahahahahahaha...she's a fat.

LOTW: Anne Frank was some lame dork who probably would've survived the holocaust if she'd given it up to the person who knew where her and her family were hiding... -Me, right now.

You know what I just noticed? I titled all these entries as a different day, but at the beginning of each one I have something called the "Line of the Week" and I only update this twice a month...NOTHING IN THIS BLOG MAKES ANY FUCKING SENSE!!

Don't you love how excited and happy kids get when they realize their birthday is coming up? Me neither.

Normally, I'd let the punchline, the article in this case, speak for itself...but that's not happening with something as absurd as that. Lets begin with the standard What. The. Fuck?! Aside from me, what kind of parent sees an advertisement for that guy and his "services" and then decides to PAY HIM MONEY TO DO IT?! Where's the logic? First of all, you're wasting money. Instead of paying some guy to annoy your kid for a week, what you SHOULD be spending that money on is your kid's present, like a new set of nunchucks or throwing knives or some other weapon that could potentially save him from being attacked by a real evil clown. If there's one thing all scientists agree on, it's that you don't fuck around with evil clowns unless you're armed and willing to fight...and yes, that means 5 out of 5 doctors agree, not even the pussy hold-out from every toothpaste commercial can take on an evil clown by himself. Also, when you really get down to trass-backs, you quickly realize that this is all just really fucking wrong. Let me get this straight: As a parent, you want to willingly pay money out of your own pocket to have some stranger who enjoys dressing up in socially unacceptable costumes and texting creepy things to kids, to harass and terrorize your offspring so they can be scared out of their mind on their birthday, most likely in front of all of their friends?...and people STILL think abortion is "mean"? NO. FUCKING. SENSE. My favorite part of the article comes from the evil clown justifying his "business" by claiming "...most kids absolutely love being scared senseless." No. They don't. Kids love yelling, going fast, sugar, video games and boobies. End of story.

I don't understand why alcohol is legal and weed isn't. Unlike alcohol, weed has never been attributed to a guy hitting his just reminds him how insignificant she is...

I'm going to release my new innovention today under the name: Grinder Jeans. These new jeans will be available everywhere for bar/club patrons who want to bring flirting to a whole new level.
  • Women will have Grinder Jeans that are thinner, yet tighter buttocks area so guys can immediately know whether they have a genuine ass in front of them or just some conveniently placed cellulite. Also included will be a zipper that closely resembles that of a Ziploc bag because I have too many Ziploc bags, which leads me to my patented "rip 'em N fix 'em" design that is extremely convenient for the horny and impatient drunk/pothead.
  • Mens will be considerably different. One side of the inner thigh will be thinner so girls can know you mean business, and the other will actually be thicker to prevent from getting over-aroused and let the reveal come to the other side whenever YOU are ready to make the switch. Also, the middle crotch are will be made of very flexible material so less chafing and "riding up" occurs, while still having a comfortable fit and being able to easily move your package from one side to the other as needed. Oh, and in case you're wondering, yes, each pair of jeans will have a small, hidden pocket for holding a small pack of condoms.
  • Kids models will look like regular jeans except they'll have velcro instead of a zipper because kids love velcro and the crotch area. They will also include pockets on the inside so they can carry Gameboys, slingshots, rubber bands, bouncy balls, candy and other things they can use to cause trouble.
  • All jeans will come in sizes that can only be worn by people who aren't fat. If I wanted fat people to wear my jeans, I would have made those massive pants all the fat, soulless kids wore in middle school, but I don't, so I didn't.
I must now present to you, the advantages of having a Dueling Legal System over our current one:

Like most of you
know, I work at Studio Movie Grill, which is what happens when the baby from a shitty restaurant and a shitty movie theater contracts herpes that is ALWAYS flaring up. Anyways, when tickets are purchased for the next showtime of a film that is still playing, the customers are placed in one of three lines so the people who bought tickets first get into the theater first. Last week, Line 1 consisted of people going to Date Night, Line 2 was empty and Line 3 had people going to see the Tyler Perry movie...needless to say, when I walked in for my shift, I was convinced segregation had been legalized once again. Sadly, this was not the case. It's not my fault that the people who think Tyler Perry "movies" are watchable also happen to be the same people in police line-ups. If you want to be treated equally, you have to act equal.

Sometimes I wish I only dated fat chicks...but only because you can treat them like shit and they're just grateful to be with someone who rarely finishes all their food. Just kidding, I wouldn't let some fat chick eat my food. Before you begin to judge me harshly, think about it this way: eventually they're grow to hate me and force themselves to lose weight and look slightly attractive just to spite me. In other words, my actions will have produced another not-fat chick for the benefit of all not-fat guys in the area. It's a win-win! The only way there could even be a loser is if someone took the fatty's fat-feelings into account, but let's be real, fatties don't count as real people; therefore they don't have real emotions. Think about it, normal people talk their feelings out and fat people eat them away...which one is morally correct? Certainly not the one dealing with gluttony, or as it's more popularly known: one of the Seven Deadly Sins!! Put this all together and you get undeniable proof that fat people are going to hell, right with the jews, retards and gingers.

If you're not sure if you're fat or not, answer this question truthfully to find out: Have you ever finished masturbating and thought "Man, I really shouldn't be this tired?" If you answered yes, or didn't laugh while saying no immediately, then you. are. fat. leave. my. site. kthnx.

This is Mr. Stewart explaining the stupid South Park "fiasco" from the 201st episode:

and this is the unofficial music video to Pase Rock's fucking awesome song called: Lindsey Lohan's Revenge.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Day 79

No, but it'll make you grow big and strong so you can stop being such a bitch about swallowing...

LOTW: Tiger's Got Wood -The name of some porn that parodies the world's most famous half-black half-something-asian guy who also happens to be good at golf.

This update is going to be a bit different from the previous ones only because I wrote very little of this. Instead, there's just a shitload of links to things I've found in the past week and a half that have made me say to myself "People need to see this. Also, I need to stop talking to myself." Without further ado, get your mouse-3 button ready to open some tabs because here we (you) go!

You know how kids do the darndest things? Well, there's a girl from Portland that...well...let's just say that if there was a competition for a kid doing the darndest thing, she. Would. Win.

I don't understand this whole craze for not wearing shoes on April 8th. If I was a kid who had never had shoes in my entire life and then I found out that people with many good pairs of shoes were just leaving them at home and wasting their potential, I would be confused, angry, insulted, saddened and offended that someone would be that fucking stupid. So this April 8th -Your death, do the right thing and WEAR. YOUR. FUCKING. SHOES. Besides, your feet are absolutely disgusting, so if you don't wear shoes for yourself, at least do it for everyone that's going to have to see your feet for the rest of the day, you inconsiderate douche.

Would you like a blow job by Hillary Duff? ME TOO! Here's how you do it, because apparently its easy, all you need to do is propose to her and you get this!

Here's an interesting little letter to a lady who thinks that homosexuality is an abomination, when in reality it's just gross. Anywhoozle, the guy who wrote it decided to use her sacred over-detailed brochure against her, resulting in this. I mean, the bible saying we're not allowed to own people?! That's ridiculous! I mean, that's like saying that every person in history like Thomas Jefferson, George Washington and your great-grandfather are all in hell...oh wait, they are. You white people and your shitty decisions.

If you watch Rambo backwards, it's Sylvester Stallone healing people with his magical bullet vacuum.

Do you like baco-of course you fucking like bacon, everyone likes bacon. Well, do you also love Star Wa-of course you like Star Wars, everyone that's not black loves Star Wars and I don't know any black people who can spell "blog," much less use a computer. so I don't expect any angry emails written with Caps Lock on. Anyways, enough racist tangents. As Liam Neeson would say: RELEASE THE BACON AT-AT!!

For those of you that STILL don't follow me on Twitter, you may not know that I recently became an official member of PETA (People for the Eating of Tender Animals).

This next link is my favorite one of all, well, second to the Link of Hyrule, because it's something that totally makes sense on my level of intensity. I'm not even going to explain it because the article has an excerpt which does the job so much better than I could ever hope to do:
"A flexible polyurethane condom-like tube that fits into the woman's body.... Rows of jagged plastic hooks line the inside of the tube — bent backward like teeth in a shark’s mouth — and lodge in a perpetrator's penis upon entry."
That's right...let it sink in. Ok, here's the link to the article. Now that your mind and penis have officially been blown, let's discuss this. It's basically a backwards condom, because the last thing that can be considered is "safe." Let me begin by saying that I whole-heartedly approve of this being sold to women everywhere, hell, if I go to prison I'll probably end up getting myself a case or 18 (If you know what I look like, you know I would be like a sex doll in prison). Despite this being awesome, however, I can't get into the mindset of how this would be applicable by a woman. I mean, do you put it in at the start of the day? How do you do it without hurting your finger or ruining a perfectly good banana/cucumber/glass-coke-bottle (I don't judge)? How does your mind process that? Do you take it out of the package, kiss it for good luck and say "I hope you come out empty today!" What if she's dating a guy from a sketchy part of town and they're about to have sex? Does she have to say "Wait, hold on, I need to take out my shark-toothed-ant-rape-condom out before you rip my vagina a new hole..."

Here's an interesting social aspect of this product though: A woman putting it in all day means she thinks she might be raped at any given point in her day, and if that's the case, she should worry less about what's going into her vagina and more into living in a better zip code. going back to my first point though, what if you're in Walgreens because CVS is gay and you see an ugly woman buy a pack of them? Do you give her the patronizing look I give fat guys when they buy condoms that says "Yeah, I'm totally sure you're gonna need all of those. Have fun with your video camera and loneliness for the next 6 hours, let me know how hard the EMS people laugh when you fuck it up." I think they should sell a 30-pack for hot women, and have it include a shirt that says DONT FUCK ME OR YOUR DICK WILL BLEED!! and under that, in smaller text, have it say (Unless I say it's A-OK!).

Fuck vampires and werewolves, I'd rather be a whenwolf and travel through time every full moon as Michael J. Fox.

This isn't funny, just nerdy. Some guy created a real life version of the famous computer system from the film adaptation of Iron Man, the one and only: JARVIS.

Why isn't "Color me gay because I'm going Gaga for [Awesome thing here like time machine or the next Zelda game]" a more popular phrase?

I couldn't pick which video I enjoyed more so I'm posting both of them, here you have 2 people fighting for the same job (In THIS economy?! How current!) and in the second one you have a family that loves Ellen Degeneres...except their angry, angry father: