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 people...you 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 all...in 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 them...in 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 her...do 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.

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" event...you 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 person...so 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 conquests...in 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.

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.

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.