What I Know About Women

I have come to the realization I know nothing about women (probably the reason I’m still single). I also don't know anything about rocket science, brain surgery, or how to make EasyMac (I keep putting the wrong amount of water in). However, the women thing is something I’m determined to get to the bottom of considering I spend my weekends “chasing” them. I came to this realization when I had the opportunity of going into the epicenter of "chick town" otherwise known as a sorority house. I felt like the crocodile hunter on safari, observing a girls natural habitat. The house is beautiful and spotless looking better than the White House. However, what is most striking is the fact there are seating areas for as far as the eye can see. That’s when it hit me that women have one common interest and that is to talk! I’m convinced that the only reason we have holidays or formal events is for women to talk about them before and after. It gives them an opportunity to discuss what they are going to wear, who is going to be there, and whatever else they talk about. Additionally, women constantly keep saying how “excited” they are for (insert Spring Break, Vegas Trip, Christmas, Birthday, Valentine’s Day, or Oprah Show here). However, I see right though their shenanigans! Girls are really just saying they are excited about the anticipation before or debrief after and not the actual event itself. Many times, women hype up an event so much that the actual event becomes a huge letdown and use the weeklong debrief talking about how disappointing it was (i.e. hooking up with me). As part of the male gender, I can firmly say that our gender is full of dumb shits like NFL Player Pac Man Jones (He got in a fight with his own bodyguard) but we do know how to enjoy the present moment. For once, maybe girls can learn a thing or two from guys.

Just Say "No" to the Red Dragon

I have a confession to make and it’s something I’ve been ashamed of for over a decade. I am an addict. Of course, there are your standard crack heads, meth addicts, and glue sniffers but I’m a different kind of breed. I get my high off of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos or the “Red Dragon” as we call it on the streets. Once you open the bag and taste the crunchy goodness you enter a world of utter bliss yet seam to forget the hellish hangover that ensues. With Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, I could be having the worst day imaginable but once the Red Dragon touches my lips, it’s all-good. Over the course of the semester I’ve been getting my fix in my Beatles class. (Yes, a class on the rock band, not the insect) The problem is that once I start eating, nothing around me becomes relevant and anything said goes over my head. I swear there could be a fire or earthquake and I would just sit there and munch away. Let me tell you, it’s not a pretty sight either. It’s a lot like feeding time in the tiger cage at the zoo; lots of noises with red stuff everywhere. The red powder gets on my hands, clothes, and one time was in my hair (not sure what happened there… I must have blacked out) Then of course there is the hell of forgetting to pick up napkins and your fingers looking like you came down with a bad case of syphilis. If anyone knows of a Flamin’ Hot Cheeto treatment center, I need to be checked in immediately!

My Significant Other

I’m sorry ladies but I’m officially off the market. It’s true I’ve been the most “eligible bachelor” for some time now but not anymore. I’m happy to say my significant other has all the perfect qualities; smart, slender, and attractive. Unfortunately, my relationship is with something I bought at the Apple store for $399. I spend more time on my iPhone than a Cal Tech student plays Dungeons and Dragons. My cell phone and I are so close that it even finishes my sentences (auto text). I came to this realization as I was in a club in Hollywood over the weekend chasing around girls like an idiot. (On a side note: Men in dance clubs are the equivalent to cavemen but with a collared shirt) The main objective for these “hunter/gathers” is to “hunt” for ladies and get numbers. So my whole purpose of the night was to get some chick’s phone number so that I can spend the next few weeks calling/texting her. Instead of spending time with the lady, I’m spending more time with my cell phone! I’m under the impression that no one dates in LA. How can they? They are too busy texting! So with that said, my cell phone and I are confident that once the Supreme Court overrules Proposition 8, they will allow cell phones and humans to get married. FYI, we are going to be registered at the Apple store, (My cell phone needs a new pair of iPhone socks). So give me your number so that I can spend some quality time with my cell phone!

Scarf Down This!

As my four readers already know, I’m not exactly an innovator as much as a complainer. However, if I see something disturbing I’m going to call it out. Today my beef is with scarves. It is currently 81 degrees in LA yet I’ve seen at least four scarves and it was all before the lunch hour. The act of scarf wearing is at an all-time high and must be stopped. On rare occasions one might see a “man scarf.” There is nothing more emasculating then for a man to be wearing a scarf. Maybe it’s acceptable on the East Coast or France but around here every man wearing a scarf should be slapped in the face with the one they have on. It could be that I’m from the temperate climate of LA but I don’t get the appeal of a scarf. It’s only true purpose is to warm the neck however every time I’ve been in cold weather the warming of the neck is the least of my worries, usually I solve the problem with a jacket. In LA, these knitted contraptions are clearly just an accessory. However, I’m a firm believer that all accessories must have a point to them. For instance a purse is quite helpful to carry all your shit or a watch to tell you your ass is late for something. In retaliation for these despicable “scarfers” I too should wear something completely useless, a cape. I will tell people as I’m walking around that my cape is aimed to warm my back. Truthfully I would look about as ridiculous as a dude wearing a scarf anyway. However, knowing the kind of trendsetter that I am, within a few weeks there will be a “cape section” at the gap which would defeat the purpose entirely. Bottom line: LA needs to come together and put an end to the scarfing or else a slippery slope ensues and we are all wearing berets.

How Halloween Needs to Improve

Halloween is by far the most anticlimactic holiday of the year. There is so much hype weeks before but in the end it’s like any other Friday night except you’re dressed as a lady bug. Everyone always tells me Halloween is great for the candy. First of all, no one trick or treats after the age of 10. Second of all, everyone knows I’m a chip man. Candy is lame; potato chips are where it’s at. Now if I was to go from door to door with people giving out Cheetos and BBQ chips I would drop all my problems. The only good thing about the holiday is the mass slutification the girls participate in at the parties. As early as the first weekend in October, you will start seeing some of the girls in their slutty outfits. (I’ve been told that girls don’t dress in costumes, its OUTFITS). As October goes along more and more girls start dressing up and it gets progressively sluttier! I even saw a slutty Harry Potter costume (I never thought that was possible). My favorite week is the weekend before Halloween because I don’t have to dress up, yet the girls are almost primed at mass slutification. However, Halloween still has it all wrong, the holiday should be in July or August. It’s not much of a problem in the temperate climate of Southern California, but I bet you there are some beautiful girls who don’t dress up to their full slutty potential in the colder climates of New York and Chicago. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of dressing up as a lady bug this year. I tried to play it off like it was a “man bug” but in the end it was just a girly lady bug costume. Furthermore, I did not foresee that the lady bug wings I purchased would be such a pain in the ass in the crowded clubs. Not even ten minutes passed by before I ditched my wings. In short, Halloween sucks, but it can improve by handing out chips instead of candy and moved to July for mass slutification.

Down In The Dumps

The toilet seat cover is by far in “the most need of improvement” out of all products on the market. If some dude invented a water purifier for cats…surly we can invent a toilet seat cover that actually stays on the toilet. The journey begins by reaching in that stupid box, and grabbing like 20 when 1 will do. Then you have to tear apart the sides because the flap is still stuck to the cover but you end up tearing the whole cover (I’m awful at arts & crafts). If by some miracle you are still successful and you put it on the toilet then the flap absorbs too much water and the whole cover ends up in the toilet before you sit down. It’s like a perfect storm that has you almost shitting your pants. Am I doing this all wrong? Was there a day in preschool that I missed where they taught people how to do this? This is a problem in America that needs to be addressed. Screw the economic crisis, have McCain and Obama debate this!!

These boots are for THROWING AWAY!

It’s official I dislike every person I’ve met wearing cowboy boots. Keep in mind I’ve only been to Texas once and it was for an hour in the Dallas/Ft. Worth Airport. (What a great airport that was). Texas is the only state where cowboy boots should be accepted. (By the way I'm not a huge fan of Texas but that’s for another blog). I’m talking about these fools walking around L.A. in cowboy boots. I don’t understand the concept of these shoes. They are stiff, immobile, uncomfortable, and probably smell in other words they are just like John McCain. The most common cowboy boot dude is one who lived in Texas and makes sure you know about it. This guy could’ve lived there for just a month but still brag about how he’s from Texas. The boots might as well be a Sport Chalet license plate frame saying, “I’d rather be living in Texas.” The worst part is you see this guy wearing his boots with tight jeans everyday. Once you start going cowboy boot there is no turning back. If you go back to regular shoes you’re just a Texas imposter and if you stay cowboy boot, we all hate you. It’s a winless situation! It’s not just men wearing these stupid things either. Women have also been getting in on this boot action. These ladies are usually indie chicks wearing some weird frayed short dress with messed up hair (messed up hair is a sign that the chick is nuts). Then you look down at their feet and BOOM...disgusting cowboy boots. Every chick I’ve seen wearing this outfit ends up looking lost and pretty much out of it. Obviously, this breed of cowboy boot chick wants to be different and thinks the best way is to wear some ugly boots that go up the shins. This cowboy boot business has got to stop. It looks out of place and is an insult to every native Angelino.

Statistical Midget

As I’m sure my readers know (all four of you) I’m all about ideas. True most of my ideas suck and do not help society in anyway except for my invention of the cat sounds CD. (Who wouldn’t want a CD entitled “Morning Meow” to wake up to?) However, I have an idea that blows all my other ideas out of the water. A Statistical Midget! There are so many instances in life where I would love to know random facts like how many times I have passed by a certain car on a highway or how many times I’ve checked Facebook in the past hour (I believe its 144). However, there is no way to know for sure unless I have a statistical midget. Did you know that 92% of men find midgets hilarious?? The other 8% are midgets. (These numbers are by no means accurate and need to be stat midget verified.) I am willing to pay the midget $1 million to follow me around and tell me really random things about my daily life. Of course this idea can only happen when I’m really rich and have large amounts of cash to throw away. This money would normally go to a charity but I feel the idea itself is a large enough contribution to society. Who wouldn’t want to know how many sneezes you made in a day? Or shits you took in a week? (It’s important to make the midget work for his million bucks) Of course there are some ground rules that need to be discussed to make this possible. First, no one can bother my stat midget, they are a lot like Seeing Eye Dogs and are strictly for business and not for strangers to feed or pet. Second, I will not tell my little companion what to research, it is up to him to tell me facts that I will find interesting. Finally, I expect the little dude to rattle off random facts at all hours of the day, even if I am in an intense conversation with someone then so be it. There is nothing more important than these random facts. Screw figuring out how to combat global warming, the world would be in a much better place with a Statistical Midget!

Dead Days of Summer

The inevitable day has arrived. The Sunday night before school starts after a long summer. This depressing reality has conjured up many unpleasant thoughts one of which having to deal with death. For example, what is the deal with burying people when they die? That must suck to die in a home or a hospital or wherever and have to be transported to some place and decompose in the ground for eternity. I utterly disagree with this practice. Fortunately for me, that will never happen when I eat it for good. I’m going to arrange that wherever I die I will be plopped right down on my leather couch with ESPN or a constant loop of Seinfeld on TV. Don’t worry, I realize my plan has flaws which is why there are preemptive measures. For instance, what if someone changes the channel to Lifetime or Oprah and I have to watch that for eternity? To counteract such a tragic scenario, the TV would shock anyone who touches it and meet the same fate as I have. (See I’ve got every angle covered). I don’t even care if another family buys my house and lives in it as long as I’m still on my couch. The family can tell guests that the old wrinkly dude on the couch just really loves TV and sleeps a lot. (Hey it worked on Weekend at Bearnies and Weekend at Bearnies 2) All I’m saying is how dare someone take me out of my house and throw me into the ground for life. Maybe that will happen to all the other dead suckers, NOT ME!

Quite The Predicament

I’m pretty sure my whole life is based on one practical joke after another. I always find myself in hilarious and awkward situations. A prime example is last week during the 5.4 magnitude earthquake. I was at work bored off my ass, doing work with my eyes half open in the usual office coma. I decided to go to the bathroom partially because nature was calling and partially because it gives me something to do. So I was doing my business and texting people at the same time (In the interest of full disclosure: If you ever receive a text from me at work…I’m probably sitting on the pot while writing it) and sure enough the earthquake hits. I’m sitting there and the stall doors start rumbling. My first reaction was, “damn I must really have had to use the bathroom” After realizing it was an earthquake I had no idea what to do. Over all those years of safety training in elementary school with the tuck under the desk drills, I was never taught what to do if you’re taking a dump. I defiantly could have used that drill. So I pretty much just sat there and waited the thing out. Imagine if that was the big one! Talk about a real “crappy” way to go out.

Bless This!!

The phrase “God bless you” is being used at an all time high and needs to be addressed immediately. There is too much blessing going on for a damn sneeze. If I were God, I would defiantly not be blessing someone just because they sneezed. One cannot help but wonder how many times a day people are telling God that they should bless other sneezers. Maybe if someone came down with a case of the flu or syphilis it would warrant a “God bless you” but not for some wind to come out of the nose at 200 mph. I am very keen on this phrase because I consider myself a professional sneezer. I have this nutso condition called Photic sneeze reflex (It’s a real thing) where anytime I look into the sun I sneeze. Throughout the course of my day there are numerous people telling God to bless me. I really wish people would stop telling God to bless me over my sneezing, and save the blesses for when I do stupid shit (Probably in Vegas). The worst are those people who are just waiting for someone to sneeze. These “God bless you whores” could be doing anything whether it be driving, or performing surgery and will stop in their tracks to make sure the holy one blesses the sneezer. However, I love to fool these sickos by pretending to sneeze to see them get ready for a “God Bless You” and then witness utter disappointment on their faces when they realize it was a false alarm. I’ve never been much of a “God bless youer” so I don’t quite understand how it works…if someone is a multiple sneezer does the “God bless you” come after one sneeze or until the sequence is finished? We can’t be worrying about making sure sneezers are blessed when we are in the midst of a war, a recession looming, and a college football season starting soon. We should let God decide what is bless worthy because clearly we failed thinking a sneeze deserves a blessing.

Free Baller Problem

There needs to be some legislation passed stopping old man ass in the men's gym locker room. Every time I go in there, I have to prep myself for a potentially awful sight. Its always old people dropping their pants and walking around the locker room likes its their own goddamn bathroom. I don't even think these guys work out, they go specifically to the locker room so they can "show off their goods." I usually go into the locker room minding my own business quickly changing my shoes and BOOM out of no where there is a pale white hairy droopy ass right in my face without as much as a warning!! It would be great if I could get a courtesy call saying old naked man coming in 3...2...1. It would be a lot like those little trucks in front of a wide-load truck on the highway warning everyone what is about to come. I need this warning to soften the blow of what my eyes are about to experience. There needs to be proper locker room etiquette which is a quick change of clothes so that the free ballin is limited to no more than 20 seconds. None of this naked walking around, doing everything but putting clothes on. I've seen it all including; naked shaving ( Of course not the back or chest even though thats the part that needs it the most), naked exercising, and even naked standing around for no good reason. Its time to put an end to this free ballin problem.

Stop Making Smelly Food

Don’t make weird food in an office. Some asshole just made popcorn and now the whole floor smells like shit. What compels someone to just randomly get up from their desk and think it would be a great idea to have popcorn? Never have I had the urge to have some popcorn while working. Popcorn is a very overrated food by the way. It’s a snack that only tastes good in the first 5 minuets of eating it. Beware of any food that is only edible for a short time like Top Ramen. Also beware of any product that has an old man as its mascot. Both KFC and Orville Redenbacher must have the worst marketing departments if they think having an old wrinkly man on their product will sell. This office prick should be like everyone else and have a goddamn salad or sandwich for lunch.

An Infuriating Ass

Something infuriating happened to me today. I was at the gym and there was a gorgeous girl working out. I began the "checking out" process. Great face, terrific upper body and tight spandex pants. Let's just say I liked what I saw. Then something awful happened, I noticed a sweatshirt tied around her hips. In a 98 degree day, the sweatshirt merely acted as a prop in a cruel game to hide her terrific ass! (I'm most defiantly an ass man... don't get me wrong, what guy doesn't like boobs... but the ass is what separates the hotties from the notties) 85% of the reason I go to the gym is to check out hot ass chicks. (Hot girls at a gym are a must otherwise its just a bunch of buff dudes trying to out steroid each other). Why a woman would wear tight clothing to the gym but hide the best part is just stupid! Clearly they have a great body if they are always in the gym. The whole reason she was at the gym was to get that ass in shape and let me tell you, I bet that thing was gooood. But sadly I will never know for sure will I??? Her ass acted as a gigantic tease much like waiving a banana in front of a monkey.

It's No Fun

I hate the word “fun.” I grow immediately suspicious when the word is used. When the word is used half the time it is used incorrectly. People use it to try and get you to do things. “Common it will be fun!” Anytime some one says it will be fun, immediately walk away, it will suck!! If something was really that fun no one would need to explain how fun it would be, the activity should speak for it self. Don’t get me wrong. I love to have a good time, but I never need to tell people I had fun, people will KNOW if I had fun.

One day I was walking out of Ralph’s and saw their ad to get new hires saying that i Ralph's is a “fun enjoyable work experience” When the crap would working at Ralphs ever be fun?!?, is it when your in the heat chasing down shopping carts?? I just don’t see it.

I’ll tell you what else isn’t fun, eating Fun Size candy bars. What the shit is that about? That’s not fun! That’s just a small ass candy bar. If you ask me it’s merely a tease saying, “here have some FUN chocolaty goodness than two seconds later, “oh wait you have no more candy bitchass!” It’s like a chocolaty version of blue balls.

Next, is Six Flags. Their slogan is, “more flags, more fun” What does that even mean?? If more flags equals more fun then why isn’t it called 1 million flags? According to them, that would be a lot more fun than just 6 flags. I say nay, no one needs a lot of flags. I’m more of a one flag, maybe two flag kind of guy. If I had a choice of flags it would be the American flag and California flag. Why else would you need another flag? Quite honestly never have I been around a flag and had fun. Sure it was enjoyable to wave the flag around and act like you’re in the Patriot, but that good time lasts about five minuets. I think it is safe to say that flags and fun do not go together.

p.s. I wrote this whole thing while at work, I’m pretty sure what I wrote had nothing to do with what I was supposed to do. Lesson for you kids out there…what ever you do at work, just look serious and type fast and you’re in the clear.

Makes No Cents

I have a huge change problem. I honestly don’t know what to do with myself. Everyday for the past 2 years I’ve been empting my change into my drawer. Well now my drawer can’t even close with so many quarters and stupid pennies. What does the rest of the world do with all these nickels and dimes? How does no one else have this problem? I’ve explored two options, first is take the coins to Vons at a Coinstar but then they take some commission, so that’s a no. The second is roll it up myself and give it to the bank however I’m horrible at arts and crafts and rolling up change is like origami to me. I could just pay someone to roll it up... But then I would be just paying the dude in the change I accumulated and that would be a feedback loop. (I’ve had the hardest time figuring out what exactly is a feedback loop…I always thought it was some cool new ride at Magic Mountain) Coins are nothing but trick money if you ask me. The U.S. Treasury goes, “hey this is money” but in reality its like the WNBA…worthless. Its kind of like that prank where you tape a dollar to a piece of string and place it on the ground and when someone bends over to pick up the buck, you whip it away and say, "sucks for you jerkass". The government is tricking us with this so called “money” in fraction form. I will have none of this…

Odd SHITuations

There are some situations in life I have no idea how to behave. There is the classic example of the funeral where I usually end up saying the dumbest things to the bereaved. There was one funeral where at the end of the service, they let a bunch of white doves free. Of course being an idiot, I preceded to go up to my friend whose grandmother just passed and asked him how cool it would be to have a carrier dove. In retrospect I could have said things like, “I’m sorry for your loss” or even “how you holding up” Nope I just said, “damn those birds would make awesome carrier doves.”

There was another time I was doing the play-by-play broadcasting for a USC Men’s Volleyball game. Of course having no idea what I was doing or saying because honestly who ever watches Men’s volleyball?? I sometimes watch Women’s Volleyball because of the hot chicks who play the sport. Spandex…nice! Anyway, so having no idea how to call the game I one time said, “set it and forget it!!” like the chicken rotisserie infomercials. It was one of those moments straight out of a Southwest Airlines commercial “wanna get away”? Needless to say I wasn’t invited back to broadcast their games.

This topic came to mind after a bizarre situation I was just apart of. I went to the Starbucks bathroom to wash my hands but there was someone in there before me who shitted up the place, and I mean that literally. It’s the kind of smell that hits you in the face and makes you puke a little in your mouth. So I quickly started washing my hands and then the god-awful handle on the door started to shake indicating someone wanted to use the facilities. I was faced with the predicament of either telling the person waiting to use the bathroom that the smell wasn’t me or just walk away fast. Additionally, how do you even go about telling a person that the dreadful smell they are about to become intimate with did not come from me? “Excuse me, I did not just shit, it was the person before me, I promise I was just washing my hands, I already took a shit today!” Whose even going to believe that story?!? So I did what any grown male would do and said, “enjoy the smell I left for you.”

Sorry

I received some comments about my past posts being insensitive and harsh. I agree whole heartily that the things I’ve said were both idiotic and cruel. I meant for this blog post to poke fun of real life situations and lighten the mood from a sometimes boring and mundane life. In no way were my comments supposed to be hurtful. I sincerely apologize to any readers who were offended by my comments. From now on, I will be primarily poking fun at myself, objects, monkeys, and/or midgets (They are all illiterate so its fine).

No More Birthdays!!

You’re an idiot if you…..

Countdown to your birthday:

I’m really sick of people counting down to their birthday as if the whole world just can’t wait for the “special” day to arrive. By the way, I really hate when people use the word “special.” If you ask me “special” should only refer those who are forced to ride the short bus to school. Birthday countdown people usually don't get enough attention for being their pathetic selves so they rely on their birthday to be treated “special.” I can treat them “special” by throwing a chocolate cake in their face. Speaking of cake, guess who loves their birthday most? Who else but the fat assess. They feel entitled to have as much cake as possible just because it’s their birthday. Why you think they countdown till the day they get to eat cake “guilt free”? The fatties somehow overlook the fact that I’m still staring at their jigglly ass as they chomp down on some ice cream cake. If only we can dangle some of that ice cream cake in front of them as they run on a treadmill we would have a much healthier society. There is too much emphasis on birthdays. After the age of 5 no one should have birthday parties. We are forced to crowd around the birthday person and laugh at all of their dumb jokes and pretend like we give a shit about their life. Don’t get me wrong; I think society should be celebrating, just not birthdays. We need to celebrate accomplishments like 4th of July or the day the hot pocket was invented. If you want to celebrate something, celebrate the fact you can have a bit of flakey goodness in just two minuets!! Luckily, my birthday falls on St. Patrick’s Day where I don’t have to worry about celebrating; the whole world turns Irish and therefore alcoholics for the day. (As a one-time visitor of Ireland, I can attest that the country most defiantly has a drinking problem). I have news for the fat-ass cake eaters, no one cares it’s your birthday, stop counting!

Why I Hate New York

New York can kiss my ass. The city and the state both suck. I am so sick of people giving mad props to the pile of crap that is New York. As an urban planning student, all I hear about is how great New York is and how LA is hell blah blah blah. Really? LA is crappy huh? then why are there 10 million people living here with miles of pristine beaches, great weather, and a lot of wealth? LA is the economic driver to California’s sixth largest economy in the world. People would say that LA doesn't have good public transportation and you need a car to get around. How is that bad? By not taking public transportation I don’t have to hear the bum next to me talk about how much he loves string cheese and then proceed to take a shit in the corner of the subway. Life is much more pleasant in the comfort of your own car. Other LA haters would say, LA has too much traffic…oh yeah because NY has absolutely none. People live in a fantasy world where they think people freely roam hassle free in the streets of New York. All cities have traffic!! Additionally, all sports teams suck in New York. The Yankees just signed comedian Billy Crystal…how good can they be? The Knicks are terrible, and the Mets choked hard on their way to the playoffs last year. In the wake of the Governor of NY having to step down for banging a prostitute (a very hot one at that..have you seen her pictures…damn!). This whole story goes to show nothing good comes out of New York. California has Arnold for a Governor who doesn't need to pay to have an affair. He can get any girl he wants for free!! I say let New York think they are far superior, but in reality they are no better than the excrement the bum left on the subway.

Radioshit and Ointment

Booo to the following…
Radioshack

There is no store I hate more than the pile of shit located in the nearest strip mall known by many as, Radioshack. Everything about it makes me want to throw their own shitty batteries at it. The awful experience of Radioshack starts before you even get out of the car. First you will find yourself in a strip mall looking abandoned since 1988. The only green space in the lot are the weeds coming through the sidewalk cracks. Then you look up and see the magnificently crappy Radioshack sign. You walk in the store at which time the smell of old man diaper hits you in the face. (If your curious about the smell but don’t actually want to go to a Radioshack…a convalescent home would be the place…actually an old persons home sounds more exciting than a Radioshack) They sell absolutely nothing in the store as well. I went in because I was desperate for ink cartridge and of course they didn’t have that. I ask, what the crap is the point of this store? They do sell cell phones however they are the 1988 model like the one used in Saved by the Bell. Fortunately, The dust on the phone comes with it. To make matters worse, the employees are commissioned. So as you look for that 12 inch black and white TV you always wanted, there is some douche bag employee demanding you buy the antennas to go with your junkyard tv. Who the crap is going into a Radioshack and being like…”damn I really need some 1988 antennas for my plasma tv”. I’m all for capitalism but this just makes America look like total fuck ups…

I am the owner of genital warts ointment. I believe that statement is a testament for a new low in my life. Of course, one would have to get action to actually get genital warts so no I don’t actually have the STD. At least people with genital warts got some action, I got nothing and still ended up with the same thing…genital warts ointment. One of my four readers, may be asking the question…Why do you have the ointment? I shall respond by saying well let me take you on the journey in which is entitled, “How I got genital warts ointment”. It all started in the summer of 07 in which I was at a friends house, (we will call this friend Ben Stratman for the sake of anonymity) At Ben’s house one of my dumbass friends thought it would be funny to throw me into the pool, I was not happy about it so I started angrily punching this friend in which at the same time Ben Stratman’s dog bit me thinking I was attacking the dumbass. So now I have a huge ass bite on my leg. I had to get a tetanus shot and went to a dermatologist to look at the bite. Turns out…the thing to cure a bite wound is ointment that is also used to control genital warts. Welcome To buck's world!

Nutty Hair

Booo to the following…

Crazy Haired Ladies

I may not be very talented in a lot of things. I suck at cooking (I recently screwed up Top Roman) I cannot cut for shit. I am dead serious about that, My third grade teacher once called a parent teacher conference to discuss my horrific “scissor cutting skills” However I have two talents I was put on this earth for. First, Dave Mirra BMX video game… For some crappy reason I am absolutely awesome at a video game no one has heard of or gives a shit about. It’s a lot like being a kickass synchronized swimmer or a banging rhythmic dancer…no one cares! Second and much more productive is that I can detect a nutso from a mile-away. I have come to the conclusion that chicks with crazy, oddly shaped hair are nuts. This is not a generalization but scientific fact. These women might have curly hair and let it grow into a disproportionate fro, or have it cut way too short to have the shape of a helmet on top of their crazy head. Either way, they are the type you hear frequently screaming or just saying inappropriate things that should land them in an insane asylum. Society has no room for crazy haired women. I once had one of these living above my apartment. Every time I saw her, she felt compelled to talk to me about really weird shit like asking me if I’ve seen Pee Wee’s Playhouse recently? Or how much fruit she should put in her trail mix. Of course she had some wild nutso hair that was in resemblance of a curly fro but lopsided and kind of all over the place. It looked like a scared cat was perched on her head. Exhibition B showed herself at an In and Out . This one had very short hair for a women. (Kind of like Kurt Warner’s wife’s hair… I bet you she’s nuts) This one was an angry nutso who screamed at In N Out for making her burger too cooked. In N Out was happy to make her a new one but she still wanted to lectured that making it too cooked doesn’t make it taste as good. Who the shit honestly complains about a burger at in n out? These women need to get the crap out of society. America has no use for these weirdoes. They must get normal haircuts and actually take care of their hair or the US should deport them to New Zealand or some shit.