Sunday, February 17, 2008

...Bite his tongue.

Despite popular belief, I am a gentleman. Or can be. Much in the same vein that a kangaroo can be a wallaby. In fact, the exact same vein. BUT! There are certain things that a person cannot, nay, must not, do when in the midst of my company.

Tonight is a perfect example.


Like a pregnant Maury contestant, i will come at you with the fury of a thousand suns. there are many things i can't do in this world, and i'm completely aware of them. among them are included: fighting without looking like michael j fox circa 2002, winking with both eyes, and not kicking ass at foursquare. the one thing i do do (i just said doodoo), is talk shit. i talk more shit than i take, and i take a lot of shits (its medical). so the last thing you want to do, especially when you are a walrus tucked into a 1998 miami sound machine halter top is talk shit on my shoes. the world at large has come to an agreement that i own the sweetest shoes on earth. its a fact. but this girl didn't stop there. i won't get into specifics. but i can deal with bitchiness, i love it, in fact. but just be funny. if you're not, that's the biggest insult of all.

so, i digress. and also forget what i was saying. the moral of the story is, i can hold my tongue if need be. even if the girl is wearing 40 clubbed seals draped around her neck and grinding against my roommate provocatively. the fact that i was completely enthralled in conversation with a 31 year-old from Instanbul shows just how interesting you were/are. fuck you in one of the folds of your fur.

whiskey formaldehyde. i'm out.


Friday, February 1, 2008

...Rip off other people

Ok, this post needs one or two disclaimers. First, i know i promised you, loyal blognation, that i would only post drunkenly, but i am, in fact, sober. soberly bored, as the case may be.

second, this post was inspired by (and actually quite stolen from) friend of the blog kellensaysthis. i give him all credit, but will take it a step further. please see his post for what he could do without. consider this an addendum, perhaps if kellen and i were to create our utopia, our combined list would be the groundwork (kellen, i am currently taking name suggestions for our magical kingdom).

so, without further ado, here are the things that must go away, and the things that can stay (rhymes, see?) in this post-apocalyptic paradise:

Must Go Away:

Oboes and Macrame.

i don't really understand what you are. this confuses me and I don't appreciate being confused.

You Can Stay:


you make me smile. keep up the good work. note: a lot of the oboe's problems would be solved if it dropped that 'e' on the end.

Must Go Away:

People who say "I could care less" and "irregardless".

think about what you are saying. it doesn't make sense. we have no room for your illogical ramblings in the new world. because we're too busy watching movies starring...

You Can Stay:

Recent Movies w/ Russian Villains.

i truly appreciate this because the notion of a russian bad guy is both antiquated and politically incorrect. it is comforting that movie studios are apparently still reading scripts written in the thrall of McCarthyism. besides, arab villians are more played out than movies starring martin lawrence as a cop.

Must Go Away:

Men who can grow facial hair but choose not to.

This is akin to having the cure for cancer and not sharing it. you are wasting abilities that SOME of us would kill for. it's like rubbing your stubbly gifts against the grain of my baby smooth face.

You Can Stay:

Guy who yells "Play Freebird!" at any concert, ever.

Even in the midst of our rebuilding efforts, we will need someone to make us feel better about ourselves. congrats on making the cut, guy, go ahead and celebrate by ordering a red wine because you think you are being ironic and asking the sound guy what kind of mics they are using while nodding your head knowingly.

Must Go Away:

People who take baths.

you are disgusting. gravity works, use it.

You Can Stay:

The Tremendous Twelve breakfast at Perkins.

Ain't nothing wrong with you. Also, the perfect name for our band consisting of four guys.

Must Go Away:

Those Charmin commercials with the bears.

These commercials make me uncomfortable on several levels. first, i'm not sure why bears are wiping their asses. second, thinking about this makes me think about those bears being naked, and walking around after just wiping their bear bottoms (get it? whatever, fuck off). also, there is no way to get your bear ass clean with all that fur. bears already make me nervous, but the idea of a naked bear with a crusty asshole concerns me to the Nth degree.

You Can Stay:

Crazy homeless man on the corner of the street.

Yes, i saw that monster with Hitler's head, too, dude. Don't let the machines get inside you. Burgundy barbeque sauce underwear!

So there you have it, all in all, the perfect template for the ultra-modern society. i promise i will rarely, if ever, post soberly on this blitz-filled blog in the future. but better sober than never, right?