Day 896
It's 2017 and I feel like I live in Bizzaro-world sometimes. I know a lot of this isn't going to make me a lot of friends, and maybe I'm an idiot. I'll accept that possibility (even if I find it unlikely).
But we now live in a world where I'm expected to accept that choices made after birth are genetically predetermined with regard to sexual preference (literally, the word preference is in the designation. I shouldn't even need to go much beyond this, but apparently so) even though science has yet to find any proof of it.
We're also expected to accept that gender is a choice, even though it IS genetically predetermined with that whole XX vs XY thing that science has totally proven. XX & XY determines your bits. Gender is nothing more than the classification of those bits. And XYX or XXY or whatever the other anomalous codes are, they have a gender too.
So products of genetics (like gender), which we have no control over, are a choice, but products of choice, such as a preference for fucking those of your same gender or a predilection towards pancakes over waffles, are genetic? Ok then
Am I missing something here? If so, I'm all ears. As I said, maybe I missed something here or maybe I'm an idiot. Please just use small words to explain it to me but I feel like logic is broken here or turned upside down or something. Like, this shit doesn't even pass the smell test. Cause if I get to choose my genetics, I'd kinda like to be 6'3" and a better athlete with a near super-human metabolism & my beard to grow in a little thicker on my cheeks. Oh wait, the universe doesn't conform to that just because I claim to be it? Well fuck. Or do I have to think really really hard at it & cast a spell like a wizard or some shit?
Don't get me wrong... I truly don't give a fuck which consenting adult you want to fuck, or if you want to have an addadicktome or even just dress up in drag all the time. Cool with me. To each their own. But I can't help but feel like I'm just having my intelligence insulted when you try to convince me that choices are genetically predetermined without any evidence to prove so but genetically predetermined outcomes based on established scientific principles are a choice.
I just feel like someone completely misunderstood the nature/nurture theory in their human development course, mixed in some dyslexia to top it all off, & then somehow convinced other people that this wasn't batshit nuts.
So yeah... we're in Bizzaro-world where genetics are choice & choice is genetic & up is down & black is white & logic got thrown out the fucking window with common sense.
So just stop the fucking planet. I want to get off. Or start being intellectually honest.
Thursday, January 26, 2017
So Simple It'll Never Happen - RTOTD #895
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Trainwrecks - Part 2 (The Literal) - RTOTD #894.1
Day 894.1
Part 2 (The Literal)
After my previous date with a stripper, I vowed to swear them off again. As I said… It’s never EVER different.
And then I got a call on Sunday night. A stripper that I used to know and would call a friend had moved back to town after being in Florida for the past 3 years and was back at her old club. She missed me. She wanted to see me. She begged me to come down & see her. I relented.
The last time I’d seen her was her birthday party about 3 or 4 years ago. She had invited me along with a few other of her friends out with her & 3 co-workers, one of whom was also celebrating her birthday. We were going to some bar in the South Side & they had gotten bottle service & a VIP booth. Fancy shit. But drinking on a stripper’s tab is a rare thing & we had become friends. This was her second straight birthday that she’d invited me to. The OtherJoe had come along too. Spread the wealth & all that shit.
We had lost touch after Facebook decided I wasn’t a real person & deleted my account. So her finding my number again was a pleasant surprise. I relented & even though I don’t make it a habit of going out on work nights now that I’m closer to 40 than I am 30, I decided to go see her.
She was excited to see me & refused to let me go for almost 20 minutes after she started hugging me. She threw herself down in the chair next to me, kicked her legs up onto my lap & joined me at the stage to hang out. She made it pretty clear that I was there as a friend, not as a revenue source.
We talked & drank for hours. She caught me up on what had been going on with her & everything that happened while she was away. I got her caught up on my life. We laughed about how awful our dating lives were. It was a good time.
Then she asked me to go out to dinner. I accepted.
Mistake #1.
She had some baggage, but who doesn’t? I damn sure do. And from what she had shared about her personal life over the years of us knowing each other, it was wholly different, but probably weighed about as much as mine when it was all added up. I figured it couldn’t hurt.
Shortly after midnight, I called it a night & told her to quit drinking. She seemed pretty unstable on her heels when she had walked back into the room after being upstairs for a smoke. She hugged me goodbye & I went home.
The next day, I get a message:
“I made the news last night”
This can’t be good.
“I’m going to jail. I just don’t know for how long”
She wrecked her car on her way home from work the night before. Over a barrier. Onto the train tracks. Told you there was a literal trainwreck, even if the train itself didn’t wreck. Cause, you know… wreck… on train tracks… Oh, fuck you guys, it’s close enough.
So… I’m going to go out on a limb & say that I sincerely doubt that she & I will be going out for that dinner. And it’s probably the universe’s way of saying “You fucking know better than to date strippers. Stop trying”
So until I have another fit of stripper-induced Alzheimer’s and somehow come to the conclusion that “sure, it’ll be OK this time”, I’m again swearing off strippers.
Or maybe it’s just because I suffered a lot of head trauma when I was younger. I’ll blame it on that, right? Cause otherwise, what the fuck is my life?
Part 2 (The Literal)
After my previous date with a stripper, I vowed to swear them off again. As I said… It’s never EVER different.
And then I got a call on Sunday night. A stripper that I used to know and would call a friend had moved back to town after being in Florida for the past 3 years and was back at her old club. She missed me. She wanted to see me. She begged me to come down & see her. I relented.
The last time I’d seen her was her birthday party about 3 or 4 years ago. She had invited me along with a few other of her friends out with her & 3 co-workers, one of whom was also celebrating her birthday. We were going to some bar in the South Side & they had gotten bottle service & a VIP booth. Fancy shit. But drinking on a stripper’s tab is a rare thing & we had become friends. This was her second straight birthday that she’d invited me to. The OtherJoe had come along too. Spread the wealth & all that shit.
We had lost touch after Facebook decided I wasn’t a real person & deleted my account. So her finding my number again was a pleasant surprise. I relented & even though I don’t make it a habit of going out on work nights now that I’m closer to 40 than I am 30, I decided to go see her.
She was excited to see me & refused to let me go for almost 20 minutes after she started hugging me. She threw herself down in the chair next to me, kicked her legs up onto my lap & joined me at the stage to hang out. She made it pretty clear that I was there as a friend, not as a revenue source.
We talked & drank for hours. She caught me up on what had been going on with her & everything that happened while she was away. I got her caught up on my life. We laughed about how awful our dating lives were. It was a good time.
Then she asked me to go out to dinner. I accepted.
Mistake #1.
She had some baggage, but who doesn’t? I damn sure do. And from what she had shared about her personal life over the years of us knowing each other, it was wholly different, but probably weighed about as much as mine when it was all added up. I figured it couldn’t hurt.
Shortly after midnight, I called it a night & told her to quit drinking. She seemed pretty unstable on her heels when she had walked back into the room after being upstairs for a smoke. She hugged me goodbye & I went home.
The next day, I get a message:
“I made the news last night”
This can’t be good.
“I’m going to jail. I just don’t know for how long”
She wrecked her car on her way home from work the night before. Over a barrier. Onto the train tracks. Told you there was a literal trainwreck, even if the train itself didn’t wreck. Cause, you know… wreck… on train tracks… Oh, fuck you guys, it’s close enough.
So… I’m going to go out on a limb & say that I sincerely doubt that she & I will be going out for that dinner. And it’s probably the universe’s way of saying “You fucking know better than to date strippers. Stop trying”
So until I have another fit of stripper-induced Alzheimer’s and somehow come to the conclusion that “sure, it’ll be OK this time”, I’m again swearing off strippers.
Or maybe it’s just because I suffered a lot of head trauma when I was younger. I’ll blame it on that, right? Cause otherwise, what the fuck is my life?
Trainwrecks - Part 1 (The Metaphorical) - RTOTD #894
Day 894
Don’t date strippers. Seriously. Don’t even try. I know. I’ve done it too many times. And I need to stop. Seriously. I really need to stop because I’m like an Alzheimer's patient when it comes to strippers. I think “maybe this time it will be different?” and guess what? It’s NEVER EVER DIFFERENT. It’s a trainwreck. Figuratively & literally.
In the past 2 weeks, with 2 different strippers, I’ve been asked out by them. One already happened. One was going to but isn’t now (I’ll get to that)
PART 1 - The Metaphorical
Let’s start with the first one. She asked if I wanted to get dinner & I figured, “what the hell” and said yes. We were supposed to meet at 8 for dinner & at 7:45, she asks to push it back to 8:30 and to meet at a bar close to her house. I figured “ok, maybe she doesn’t want me to see where she lives. We don’t know each other very well & for all she knows, I might be a crazy stalker. That seems like a legitimate concern for a stripper. She’s hot & probably meets a lot of creepy assholes that can at least temporarily hide their creepy asshole side at the nudie bar, so a girl needs to be cautious” so I agree. I’ll just give you a timeline from this point forward:
8:27pm - I arrive at the bar almost exactly on time, because I’m a weirdo that believes that “to be early is to be on time, to be on time is to be late, and to be late is out of the question”. I should know better when it comes to meeting a girl. But I was still on time. So rather than sit in my car, I go into the bar & sit down. I figured I might as well grab a beer. I send the girl a message that I’m at the bar in case she’s just standing around outside. I receive no immediate response.
8:45 - Since I’m the weird loner guy at a bar with only a handful of people in a single group, I end up striking up a conversation with the bartender.
9:15 – I get a message that she’s running late. No shit, lady. I’ve been sitting here for 45 minutes already. I’m hungry but the 3 beers I’ve already drank in the past 45 minutes are making it less unbearable.
9:30 – I get another message that she’s on her way. She says she lives a few blocks away.
9:45 – I now begin to assume that she is coming via Sherpa or pogo stick. Possibly unicycle. And her balance is not very good and she’s wiped out a few dozen times but is really really serious about getting good at it, so she’s getting all the practice she can. Even on a very cold & wet night. She’s very focused on her unicycle training.
10:00 – How long does it take for someone to travel “a few blocks” even by unicycle? Apparently at least 30 minutes
10:04 – Oh look, she’s here. Maybe we’re going to get dinner now? I’m really hungry & we’re already 2 hours behind the original schedule. And I am a 6 year old when it comes to my stomach. I need food.
10:05 – She hugs me & orders a drink. A double. Apparently we’re not getting dinner yet. Great
10:10 – In the span of 5 minutes, she’s probably rattled off 5,000 words so far. No more than 2 sentences on the same subject. I have yet to get out more than 1 sentence on a subject before she’s changed it to something else. My head is spinning a little bit trying to keep up with this rapidly changing non-conversation.
10:25 – She’s already gotten up and wandered around twice for no apparent reason, mid conversation. She’s now complaining about the bartender & has whispered to me something about the girl down the bar being really ugly. I don’t know what’s going on. She hates her drink & is getting something else. Whatever. Maybe a little alcohol will calm this broad the hell down.
10:50 – I have still not gotten out more than a single sentence in response to anything she’s said and she hasn’t answered a single question I’ve asked. Just went off on some other tangent. I go on tangents sometimes but always work my way back to my topic. This bitch’s tangents have tangents. I’m completely lost. The bartender is still being really nice to me but she’s already yelled at this girl twice & asked her to not call her by some nickname. Apparently they know each other. Oh, this is special.
10:52 – She’s now informed me that she has a “sorta-boyfriend”. I ask why she’s out with me then? She almost answers but starts on a rant about him being a bitch. I try to ask another question but she ignores it & continues her incessant & completely nonsensical rambling.
10:55 – I might get into a bar fight. She’s gotten up yet again to walk down to talk to some group of people at the far end of the bar. I’m now live-tweeting this trainwreck. This isn’t a date. This is performance art. It has to be. But she’s now arguing loudly with some guy about why he’s not willing to show her his tattoos. She sits back down & yells at me for live-tweeting the date. Before I can respond, she is yelling at the guy down the bar again & calling him a pussy because he won’t show her his tattoos. I look at the bartender with a deer in headlights look and mouth ‘I have no idea what’s going on. Kill me’ and she smiles back. The guy is yelling back at this girl. I yell loudly “CHILDREN, FUCKING BEHAVE”. They both pipe down. She tries reading my live-tweeting over my shoulder & calls me a pussy for not saying what I’m thinking and tweeting it instead. I tell her “well, considering I’ve barely gotten more than a sentence out so far, expecting to get a full 140 characters out might be asking too much”
11:30 – Why am I still here? We’re still in this fucking bar. I’m on beer number like 8 now. I still haven’t eaten. I’m still live-tweeting & trying to keep up with her relentless shotgun blasts of random bullshit that I’ve stopped caring. I’m getting bored & even more hungry. I’m so bored that I can’t even get drunk at this point.
12:10am – She looks at me & can probably see the bored look on my face. I’ve stopped trying to even keep up with her shit. There might be an interesting chick inside all this hurricane of random but I damn sure can’t find it. My hope that a few drinks might get her to focus on a topic for more than 11 seconds was for naught. She’s still going full-bore. I don’t even care at this point. I just want to eat. But I’ll keep drinking until then. She’s still nursing her 2nd drink after hating her first one. She finally stops & says:
“you kinda hate me at this point, don’t you?” She actually takes the time to wait for an answer…
“I’m not really a fan” I reply.
“I’m never going to hear from you again, will I?” she follows.
“Probably not” I answer, almost astonished that an exchange on the same topic has lasted more than 1 simple question/comment & response before the topic changed.
“That will be a first” she informs me.
“Oh really? No other guy has ever just been like ‘nope’ and never called again?” I ask
“they’ve all come back” she says somewhat proudly
“first time for everything” I tell her before she promptly goes off on a different diatribe on a wholly different topic entirely unrelated.
12:35 – She’s now been banned from the bar. This is her local bar. The bartender has gotten sick of her shit. She’s not throwing us out, but she’s also not allowed to come back. The bartender still kinda loves me. We’ve been laughing at this trainwreck of a pseudo-date I’m on for most of the past 2 hours..
12:55 – Seriously, why am I still here? She now wants to leave & go to this other place. I hope to god this place has food. I’m starving & still wondering why she’s out with me.. If she wanted to just use me as a wallet to fund her night out, she’s doing a really shitty job of it. She’s had all of 2 cheap drinks & we still haven’t gotten dinner that I’m not thinking is never going to happen.
1:25 – We finally leave. The bartender reminds this girl that she’s banned. The bartender personally invites me to come back anytime & that I was a lot of fun. 3 other patrons that I’ve never met before tonight all come up to say bye to me. She’s the local and banned. I’m the tourist & everyone loves me. More proof that I’m awesome.
1:40 – She directs me to some bar downtown. Great. She wants me to go to come after-hours club with her. I’m fucking starving & really at this point, terribly bored. For the last 2 hours, I’ve been torn between dropping her ass off & bouncing or seeing how much worse this can get. So far, “how much worse can this get?” has been winning big a big margin. And I’m now one of about 6 straight guys in this after-hours club of mostly gay dudes & a handful of chicks. I high-five a girl in an old-school Mark Recchi Pens jersey circa the first cup run in 1991. Because why the fuck not?
2:10 – She’s vanished again, but this time so that she can go to the bathroom for some guys to do blow off her. I guess she’s cleaner than the back of the toilet, right? This bitch has gotta be on something because her Gatling gun of nonsensical rambling has not slowed down at all. She claims she’s not doing coke anymore tho, so I guess that’s good? This is just a disaster. I’m still live-tweeting it too.
2:50 – I’ve now given up. I just want to go to Sheetz & go to bed. She has wandered back to where I’m sitting at this bar nursing the widly overpriced after-hours drink because I’m really fucking bored. And even the novelty of seeing how long this mess can continue has now worn off. I’m cranky & I’m hungry. It’s been over 6 hours since we were supposed to be sitting down to dinner & I’m officially done. She informs me about a party that her friends invited her to. I can’t tell if this is her way of parting ways or if she’s asking me to come with her, but I don’t really care.
“ok, have fun. I’m gonna go eat” I say
“oh…” she replies
“yep. Later!” I say as I pick up my coat & make a beeline for the door.
2:55 – I’m sitting at a redlight downtown. The only thing on my mind is food and checking my rearview because that’s what I do. I see a car coming behind me & realize he’s coming quite quickly. I look up to make sure the light hasn’t turned green. It hasn’t. My eyes are flickering back & forth between the mirror & the light. The car is still coming. It’s not slowing down. He’s not slowing down. Shit, he’s not slowing down. Fuck, he’s not slowing down. Goddammit, fuck he’s gonna hit me. And I throw it into neutral real quick & just at the right time, take my foot off the brake. I bounce forward about 8 feet into the intersection. He hit me pretty fucking hard. It’s an asshole in a BMW. Because of course it is. It’s like the rule of owning a BMW to be a self-absorbed asshat.
2:56 – I pull onto the side street thru the intersection & get out to look at the damage to my car. I don’t even give a fuck about the damage to his. Thankfully, I’m left with just a scuff on my bumper. Yay plastic bumper covers. I look up at the BMW owner and of course, it’s one of the dudes that that girl was bouncing around with at the bar & was talking to about going out to that party. 99% sure it was also one of the dudes that did blow off her in the bathroom. The world is too fucking small. I glare at him. He’s a twinky dude wearing far too tight of a shirt over way too skinny of a body.
“You’re [GothStripper]’s friend, right? Saw you head to the bathroom with her”
“umm… yeah. Your car fine?” he says
“yeah. Just a scuff. I really don’t care if yours is fine, but mine is, so I’m fucking leaving. And I’m not waiting for the cops. Don’t think you want to either, right?”
“umm… no. Yeah. Have a nice night man. Sorry.” He says
3:01 – I leave
3:15 – I see it. Shangri-La… or at least the closest thing to it at 3am when you’re 7 hours late for dinner… Sheetz. Glorious glorious Sheetz. And I dined like a king. Well, - king at a gas station that serves pretty ok food.
Continued with the LITERAL trainwreck in part 2 just in case the metaphorical one wasn't enough.
Don’t date strippers. Seriously. Don’t even try. I know. I’ve done it too many times. And I need to stop. Seriously. I really need to stop because I’m like an Alzheimer's patient when it comes to strippers. I think “maybe this time it will be different?” and guess what? It’s NEVER EVER DIFFERENT. It’s a trainwreck. Figuratively & literally.
In the past 2 weeks, with 2 different strippers, I’ve been asked out by them. One already happened. One was going to but isn’t now (I’ll get to that)
PART 1 - The Metaphorical
Let’s start with the first one. She asked if I wanted to get dinner & I figured, “what the hell” and said yes. We were supposed to meet at 8 for dinner & at 7:45, she asks to push it back to 8:30 and to meet at a bar close to her house. I figured “ok, maybe she doesn’t want me to see where she lives. We don’t know each other very well & for all she knows, I might be a crazy stalker. That seems like a legitimate concern for a stripper. She’s hot & probably meets a lot of creepy assholes that can at least temporarily hide their creepy asshole side at the nudie bar, so a girl needs to be cautious” so I agree. I’ll just give you a timeline from this point forward:
8:27pm - I arrive at the bar almost exactly on time, because I’m a weirdo that believes that “to be early is to be on time, to be on time is to be late, and to be late is out of the question”. I should know better when it comes to meeting a girl. But I was still on time. So rather than sit in my car, I go into the bar & sit down. I figured I might as well grab a beer. I send the girl a message that I’m at the bar in case she’s just standing around outside. I receive no immediate response.
8:45 - Since I’m the weird loner guy at a bar with only a handful of people in a single group, I end up striking up a conversation with the bartender.
9:15 – I get a message that she’s running late. No shit, lady. I’ve been sitting here for 45 minutes already. I’m hungry but the 3 beers I’ve already drank in the past 45 minutes are making it less unbearable.
9:30 – I get another message that she’s on her way. She says she lives a few blocks away.
9:45 – I now begin to assume that she is coming via Sherpa or pogo stick. Possibly unicycle. And her balance is not very good and she’s wiped out a few dozen times but is really really serious about getting good at it, so she’s getting all the practice she can. Even on a very cold & wet night. She’s very focused on her unicycle training.
10:00 – How long does it take for someone to travel “a few blocks” even by unicycle? Apparently at least 30 minutes
10:04 – Oh look, she’s here. Maybe we’re going to get dinner now? I’m really hungry & we’re already 2 hours behind the original schedule. And I am a 6 year old when it comes to my stomach. I need food.
10:05 – She hugs me & orders a drink. A double. Apparently we’re not getting dinner yet. Great
10:10 – In the span of 5 minutes, she’s probably rattled off 5,000 words so far. No more than 2 sentences on the same subject. I have yet to get out more than 1 sentence on a subject before she’s changed it to something else. My head is spinning a little bit trying to keep up with this rapidly changing non-conversation.
10:25 – She’s already gotten up and wandered around twice for no apparent reason, mid conversation. She’s now complaining about the bartender & has whispered to me something about the girl down the bar being really ugly. I don’t know what’s going on. She hates her drink & is getting something else. Whatever. Maybe a little alcohol will calm this broad the hell down.
10:50 – I have still not gotten out more than a single sentence in response to anything she’s said and she hasn’t answered a single question I’ve asked. Just went off on some other tangent. I go on tangents sometimes but always work my way back to my topic. This bitch’s tangents have tangents. I’m completely lost. The bartender is still being really nice to me but she’s already yelled at this girl twice & asked her to not call her by some nickname. Apparently they know each other. Oh, this is special.
10:52 – She’s now informed me that she has a “sorta-boyfriend”. I ask why she’s out with me then? She almost answers but starts on a rant about him being a bitch. I try to ask another question but she ignores it & continues her incessant & completely nonsensical rambling.
10:55 – I might get into a bar fight. She’s gotten up yet again to walk down to talk to some group of people at the far end of the bar. I’m now live-tweeting this trainwreck. This isn’t a date. This is performance art. It has to be. But she’s now arguing loudly with some guy about why he’s not willing to show her his tattoos. She sits back down & yells at me for live-tweeting the date. Before I can respond, she is yelling at the guy down the bar again & calling him a pussy because he won’t show her his tattoos. I look at the bartender with a deer in headlights look and mouth ‘I have no idea what’s going on. Kill me’ and she smiles back. The guy is yelling back at this girl. I yell loudly “CHILDREN, FUCKING BEHAVE”. They both pipe down. She tries reading my live-tweeting over my shoulder & calls me a pussy for not saying what I’m thinking and tweeting it instead. I tell her “well, considering I’ve barely gotten more than a sentence out so far, expecting to get a full 140 characters out might be asking too much”
11:30 – Why am I still here? We’re still in this fucking bar. I’m on beer number like 8 now. I still haven’t eaten. I’m still live-tweeting & trying to keep up with her relentless shotgun blasts of random bullshit that I’ve stopped caring. I’m getting bored & even more hungry. I’m so bored that I can’t even get drunk at this point.
12:10am – She looks at me & can probably see the bored look on my face. I’ve stopped trying to even keep up with her shit. There might be an interesting chick inside all this hurricane of random but I damn sure can’t find it. My hope that a few drinks might get her to focus on a topic for more than 11 seconds was for naught. She’s still going full-bore. I don’t even care at this point. I just want to eat. But I’ll keep drinking until then. She’s still nursing her 2nd drink after hating her first one. She finally stops & says:
“you kinda hate me at this point, don’t you?” She actually takes the time to wait for an answer…
“I’m not really a fan” I reply.
“I’m never going to hear from you again, will I?” she follows.
“Probably not” I answer, almost astonished that an exchange on the same topic has lasted more than 1 simple question/comment & response before the topic changed.
“That will be a first” she informs me.
“Oh really? No other guy has ever just been like ‘nope’ and never called again?” I ask
“they’ve all come back” she says somewhat proudly
“first time for everything” I tell her before she promptly goes off on a different diatribe on a wholly different topic entirely unrelated.
12:35 – She’s now been banned from the bar. This is her local bar. The bartender has gotten sick of her shit. She’s not throwing us out, but she’s also not allowed to come back. The bartender still kinda loves me. We’ve been laughing at this trainwreck of a pseudo-date I’m on for most of the past 2 hours..
12:55 – Seriously, why am I still here? She now wants to leave & go to this other place. I hope to god this place has food. I’m starving & still wondering why she’s out with me.. If she wanted to just use me as a wallet to fund her night out, she’s doing a really shitty job of it. She’s had all of 2 cheap drinks & we still haven’t gotten dinner that I’m not thinking is never going to happen.
1:25 – We finally leave. The bartender reminds this girl that she’s banned. The bartender personally invites me to come back anytime & that I was a lot of fun. 3 other patrons that I’ve never met before tonight all come up to say bye to me. She’s the local and banned. I’m the tourist & everyone loves me. More proof that I’m awesome.
1:40 – She directs me to some bar downtown. Great. She wants me to go to come after-hours club with her. I’m fucking starving & really at this point, terribly bored. For the last 2 hours, I’ve been torn between dropping her ass off & bouncing or seeing how much worse this can get. So far, “how much worse can this get?” has been winning big a big margin. And I’m now one of about 6 straight guys in this after-hours club of mostly gay dudes & a handful of chicks. I high-five a girl in an old-school Mark Recchi Pens jersey circa the first cup run in 1991. Because why the fuck not?
2:10 – She’s vanished again, but this time so that she can go to the bathroom for some guys to do blow off her. I guess she’s cleaner than the back of the toilet, right? This bitch has gotta be on something because her Gatling gun of nonsensical rambling has not slowed down at all. She claims she’s not doing coke anymore tho, so I guess that’s good? This is just a disaster. I’m still live-tweeting it too.
2:50 – I’ve now given up. I just want to go to Sheetz & go to bed. She has wandered back to where I’m sitting at this bar nursing the widly overpriced after-hours drink because I’m really fucking bored. And even the novelty of seeing how long this mess can continue has now worn off. I’m cranky & I’m hungry. It’s been over 6 hours since we were supposed to be sitting down to dinner & I’m officially done. She informs me about a party that her friends invited her to. I can’t tell if this is her way of parting ways or if she’s asking me to come with her, but I don’t really care.
“ok, have fun. I’m gonna go eat” I say
“oh…” she replies
“yep. Later!” I say as I pick up my coat & make a beeline for the door.
2:55 – I’m sitting at a redlight downtown. The only thing on my mind is food and checking my rearview because that’s what I do. I see a car coming behind me & realize he’s coming quite quickly. I look up to make sure the light hasn’t turned green. It hasn’t. My eyes are flickering back & forth between the mirror & the light. The car is still coming. It’s not slowing down. He’s not slowing down. Shit, he’s not slowing down. Fuck, he’s not slowing down. Goddammit, fuck he’s gonna hit me. And I throw it into neutral real quick & just at the right time, take my foot off the brake. I bounce forward about 8 feet into the intersection. He hit me pretty fucking hard. It’s an asshole in a BMW. Because of course it is. It’s like the rule of owning a BMW to be a self-absorbed asshat.
2:56 – I pull onto the side street thru the intersection & get out to look at the damage to my car. I don’t even give a fuck about the damage to his. Thankfully, I’m left with just a scuff on my bumper. Yay plastic bumper covers. I look up at the BMW owner and of course, it’s one of the dudes that that girl was bouncing around with at the bar & was talking to about going out to that party. 99% sure it was also one of the dudes that did blow off her in the bathroom. The world is too fucking small. I glare at him. He’s a twinky dude wearing far too tight of a shirt over way too skinny of a body.
“You’re [GothStripper]’s friend, right? Saw you head to the bathroom with her”
“umm… yeah. Your car fine?” he says
“yeah. Just a scuff. I really don’t care if yours is fine, but mine is, so I’m fucking leaving. And I’m not waiting for the cops. Don’t think you want to either, right?”
“umm… no. Yeah. Have a nice night man. Sorry.” He says
3:01 – I leave
3:15 – I see it. Shangri-La… or at least the closest thing to it at 3am when you’re 7 hours late for dinner… Sheetz. Glorious glorious Sheetz. And I dined like a king. Well, - king at a gas station that serves pretty ok food.
Continued with the LITERAL trainwreck in part 2 just in case the metaphorical one wasn't enough.
The Coin Slot - RTOTD #893
Day 893
2 rows ahead is a big dude cheering for the visiting team. Behind him are 2 20-something ladies not much bigger than my thigh.. ThisOtherJoe & I are enjoying the game but every time the Giants would do anything, this dude stood up & cheer. It's a Steeler game tho, and visiting team fans cheering happens sometimes. No big deal.
Except this dude is apparently fighting a war against the tyrrany of underwear & shirts long enough to extend past his belt line, because his hoodie is 2 sizes too small for his girth. And thus every time he stood, the top half of his ass crack is directly in the face of the 2 rows behind him. This obviously includes me.
None of us much appreciate the view.
With my hands in my pockets to keep them somewhat warm on a rather cool night when I should have probably worn an extra layer, I feel something. Some spare change. I pull it out & make a quick observation: 2 nickels, 2 pennies and a dime.
And thus an idea is born.
The next play, again the Giants convert a 3rd down which the Steelers defense apparently felt that they didn't really want to put in the effort to stop, and the G-Man in blue stands to cheer wildly, again exposing his ass crack to the 4 of us in direct line of sight behind him.
We all boo. Half at the play, and half at the sight staring us in the face.
I tap the lady in front of me on the shoulder, extend my hand & drop a penny into her open palm
"The next time he stands up, drop this in there"
Her eyes go wide & light up as though I had just introduced her to the concept of fire on a cold winter's night. She laughs madly & her friend turns to look at her, searching for the cause of the unexpected outburst. And she shows her the penny. I hand them another penny.
Her friend takes it & after waiting some time for the perfect opening, finally finds it & deftly drops it cleanly into the gap between the G-Man's belt line & the cleavage of his ass cheeks. We all await the response. Surely nobody could have a cold metal disk fall into their pants & not notice it, right?
Wrong. There is zero response. He never even notices it. We wait longer. The 4 of us, and the 2 friends that were with the ladies, but not subject to the same visual assault that we were, all are in on the joke. And after 5 seconds of no reaction, the laughter begins with a small chuckle that quickly turns into a cacaphony. Not a single reaction. And they have more change.
On the list of ways to get hazed by the home-team fans at a sporting event, a few coins dropped down your coinslot because you can't be bothered to wear underwear is hardly any hard-time. It's pretty fucking harmless. You'd be lucky to not get punched at a Flyer's game if you were cheering for the Pens in Philly. But to not even notice you're being hazed by the locals makes it all the better.
Plus, by the end of the night, he'd have enough ass money to buy a gumball or something, right?
2 rows ahead is a big dude cheering for the visiting team. Behind him are 2 20-something ladies not much bigger than my thigh.. ThisOtherJoe & I are enjoying the game but every time the Giants would do anything, this dude stood up & cheer. It's a Steeler game tho, and visiting team fans cheering happens sometimes. No big deal.
Except this dude is apparently fighting a war against the tyrrany of underwear & shirts long enough to extend past his belt line, because his hoodie is 2 sizes too small for his girth. And thus every time he stood, the top half of his ass crack is directly in the face of the 2 rows behind him. This obviously includes me.
None of us much appreciate the view.
With my hands in my pockets to keep them somewhat warm on a rather cool night when I should have probably worn an extra layer, I feel something. Some spare change. I pull it out & make a quick observation: 2 nickels, 2 pennies and a dime.
And thus an idea is born.
The next play, again the Giants convert a 3rd down which the Steelers defense apparently felt that they didn't really want to put in the effort to stop, and the G-Man in blue stands to cheer wildly, again exposing his ass crack to the 4 of us in direct line of sight behind him.
We all boo. Half at the play, and half at the sight staring us in the face.
I tap the lady in front of me on the shoulder, extend my hand & drop a penny into her open palm
"The next time he stands up, drop this in there"
Her eyes go wide & light up as though I had just introduced her to the concept of fire on a cold winter's night. She laughs madly & her friend turns to look at her, searching for the cause of the unexpected outburst. And she shows her the penny. I hand them another penny.
Her friend takes it & after waiting some time for the perfect opening, finally finds it & deftly drops it cleanly into the gap between the G-Man's belt line & the cleavage of his ass cheeks. We all await the response. Surely nobody could have a cold metal disk fall into their pants & not notice it, right?
Wrong. There is zero response. He never even notices it. We wait longer. The 4 of us, and the 2 friends that were with the ladies, but not subject to the same visual assault that we were, all are in on the joke. And after 5 seconds of no reaction, the laughter begins with a small chuckle that quickly turns into a cacaphony. Not a single reaction. And they have more change.
On the list of ways to get hazed by the home-team fans at a sporting event, a few coins dropped down your coinslot because you can't be bothered to wear underwear is hardly any hard-time. It's pretty fucking harmless. You'd be lucky to not get punched at a Flyer's game if you were cheering for the Pens in Philly. But to not even notice you're being hazed by the locals makes it all the better.
Plus, by the end of the night, he'd have enough ass money to buy a gumball or something, right?
We Wake up Today In A Strange World - RTOTD #892
Day 892
It's over & im glad I won't have to suffer thru another political commercial for another year. Back to boner pills & unaffordable cars & injury lawyer commercials.
But to be serious for a moment, I just want you all to know that I still love you. You're still important (well, some of you). You are going to be ok. I am going to be ok. The world isn't ending. Life isn't ending. We'll survive. Things won't be sunshine and rainbows but they never were going to be. We endure.
I know some of you are legitimately terrified of what happens next, and while I don't see the same potential horror (and for someone like me that is ALWAYS looking at the unintended consequences of decisions to not see it, maybe you should consider the possibilities that you're over-reacting at the moment? And I mean, if I have to be the voice of reason, you know that's saying something), just know that IF your fears of the consequences of this begin to look like they're coming true, I'm with you. I stand with you if bad things begin to happen. I'm might disagree with you on what bad is, but I wish nothing bad upon you. I want you to be as free to live your life as you see fit as I am, if not more so.
So just know that I love (some of) you. And I want you to remember that.
It's over & im glad I won't have to suffer thru another political commercial for another year. Back to boner pills & unaffordable cars & injury lawyer commercials.
But to be serious for a moment, I just want you all to know that I still love you. You're still important (well, some of you). You are going to be ok. I am going to be ok. The world isn't ending. Life isn't ending. We'll survive. Things won't be sunshine and rainbows but they never were going to be. We endure.
I know some of you are legitimately terrified of what happens next, and while I don't see the same potential horror (and for someone like me that is ALWAYS looking at the unintended consequences of decisions to not see it, maybe you should consider the possibilities that you're over-reacting at the moment? And I mean, if I have to be the voice of reason, you know that's saying something), just know that IF your fears of the consequences of this begin to look like they're coming true, I'm with you. I stand with you if bad things begin to happen. I'm might disagree with you on what bad is, but I wish nothing bad upon you. I want you to be as free to live your life as you see fit as I am, if not more so.
So just know that I love (some of) you. And I want you to remember that.
Shitshow Day Live Blog - RTOTD #891.1
Day 891.1
This is going to be a total fucking disaster & it needs to be chronicled through the eyes of an asshole who hates everything.
Oh wait, that's what the rest of the Internet is for. So instead you get me. Off work because I'm getting a new driveway & somebody's gotta be here.
I'll be updating this today as thoughts stike me & things happen.
Most notable thought so far? It's days like today that make me miss this chicken place at OSU that would deliver fried chicken, beer & cigarettes. You have no idea how helpful this would be today.
8:28am - the least original hot take for today: this is really the best we could fucking do? Really? REALLY?
8:29am - Thank you DVR for being super busy on Monday nights so I have like 5 hours of TV to watch instead of morning news.
8:33am - what the fuck happened to the iPhone's keyboard with iOS 10? It doesn't switch back & forth between symbols & characters automatically anymore after you elect a symbol. I dislike this. Do you know how many times I've typed "we'43" instead of "we're" because of this & then had to Fucking fix it? I hate this.
8:39am - how has there never been a Cokie Roberts/Cocaine mash-up meme?
8:42am - thus far, watching a bunch of dudes rip up my driveway is 10,000x more interesting than any of the morning news election obsession coverage.
8:47am - over/under on me starting to drink before noon today?
8:55am - I forgot that I didn't watch The Walking Dead for this week yet. At least hat solves the problem of "how can I avoid the news for the next hour?"
9:40am - news from the future!!! "President Elect Bob" is the surprise winner after everyone else mysteriously quits. Nobody yet knows Bob's last name after he was picked as the 1000th person to come thru the TravelAmerica in Breezewood after all other candidates simultaneously quit at 2:00 this afternoon.
9:59am - does anyone wanna bring me pancakes? Pancakes will improve everything.
10:53am - in a surprise turn, I still haven't started drinking.
10:59am - still awaiting magical delivery pancakes. Still very disappointed.
11:16am - settled on delivery burger. Also turned the news back on. Have we started taking couches off porches on Election Day too instead of just during OSU/Michigan or Pitt/WVU game Saturday's now? We might want to consider it. I foresee the USA turning into Oakland on a Pitt football Saturday today. White trash couch burning idiot. Like the assholes that woo at baseball & hockey games.
11:24am - it seems like Elections have taken on the same traits as millenials with their birthdays. First it was celebrated for a day. Then a week. Now the entitled assholes celebrate for a whole month. That's the fucking election. It's like Christmas. It's somehow now something we do from about a week after the previous one all the way until the next one. Stop it. Everything gets 1 day. Stop turning it into a whole fucking excursion.
12:45pm - My delivery burger was fucking delicious.
12:58pm - I have decided that 2pm is when my day drinking begins today.
1:21pm - if you haven't voted yet, remember that Bailey is eligible as a write-in candidate. And he's the only candidate that won't make you nauseous to be in the same room with, or will make you vomit when he licks your hand. Just wants your pets & your vote.
1:52pm - also, vote Phil Kessel, Stanley Cup Champion. Nice guy. Tries hard. Loves the game.
1:57pm - which candidate looks better with a set of balls resting in their forehead? Decision 2016!
2:00pm - I'm starting drinking now. Shit's about to get REAL! Come join me at my house if you're bored & want to entirely ignore the election from 7:08 until the end of the Pens game. By watching the Pens game....
2:55pm - absolutely nothing has fucking changed today except that I am now 2 beers deep. This is why all-day coverage of shit that doesn't happen for another like 5 hours is completely unnecessary. Especially when nobody cares about what is going on until after shit is already closed. American network news election coverage & TSN's NHL Trade Deadline Day share this same problem. But you idiots (and today, me idiot) watches it.
3:25pm - I wonder if there's a correlation between the number of crazy people in this country and the advent of 24 hour election coverage? I know that in under 8 hours, I'm already feeling a little unhinged.
3:50pm - I think I love how much pretty much everyone voting or running for something today hates everyone else. It's refreshing to see narcissistic asshats of generation ME being so honest about it. I also hope everyone I disagree with dies in a fire.
3:53pm - I have determined that these beers are not poisoned. I believe that the 5 I've drank is a good sample size for the case.
3:58pm - I would attempt to turn this election into a drinking game, but I think any rules that I come up with will kill me.
4:01pm - there is a squirrel in my yard that I believe might be the most qualified for the presidency out of the squirrel, the sociopathic game show host, and the criminal
4:04pm - I may consider drinking whiskey to make tonight tolerable. This is important. There are not many things I find more intolerable than whiskey, but I have reached the point where swallowing whiskey may be more tolerable than swallowing this election trainwreck
4:06pm - I am also out of things to watch on my DVR. There goes my fucking diversion.
5:15pm - the election has become basically pro wrestling. I'm just waiting for Hulk Hogan to do a run-in & clothesline someone before his ring music hits & he starts doing his "I am a real American!" "Can you hear me?" thing.
5:21pm - they then become tag team partners for the next 4 years
5:30pm - oh look, a comic book. It's probably got a plot that's as realistic as this election. *scans cover* time machine & teleportation to an alien planet infested with roach-like parasites.... yep, pretty much this election.
5:37pm - the chick that's reporting from Clinton HQ on CNN sounds like she doesn't know what the fuck she wants to say. George Bush on TelePrompTer sounded more sure of his next word.
6:04pm - I once again want delivery pancakes. I might have to settle for pizza. They're both round foods tho, so that's good.
6:06pm - these candidates are NOT good dogs, Brent
6:12pm - anal is the new oral
6:18pm - this comic book is better than the news.... but this is not news. Comic books are already almost always better than the news
6:24pm - too drunk to go anywhere to get food. But hungry now. Why does Sheetz not deliver? Also, 36 minutes to hockey.
6:28pm - can I count my new driveway as part of the "infrastructure repair" whichever candidate wins will inevitably propose?
6:32pm - Phil Kessel 2016. Good guy. Tries hard. Loves the game.
7:00pm - it's hockey time now so I'll check back in during the intermissions. I guarantee nothing changes
7:01pm - how did I not know there were emotional support puppies at some of the polls today? This makes elections better. Or at least tolerable
8:39pm - at least the hockey game is good. But the news is like a bunch of monkeys trying to understand statistics anyway
8:43pm - they're already starting with the "too close to call" shit already.
9:53pm - well, the Pens won. That's a victory for America at least & proved some parts of life are still rational. But Trump actually maybe winning? That's insanity. Beautiful, horrific, physics-defying insanity.
10:00pm - how in the blue hell does Montana have 3 electoral votes? Cows aren't citizens.
10:05pm - So I think we should kill the loser of elections from now on. Or at least Hunger Games the shit out of them in some arena battle.
10:10pm - I've switched my drink up to purple Fanta & coconut rum
10:19pm - I'm going to wake up sometime in the future & realize 2016 was a hallucination, right? RIGHT!?!?
10:40pm - next season on "America: Let's Vote", we pick between even worse human beings. It's all-star season starting with Charles Manson & the guy that decided tights as pants was acceptable outerwear!
10:44pm - for the record, America... this is the shittiest version of Date, Marry, Kill you've ever come up with.
11:11pm - this proves that the only way to watch an election is shithoused
11:17pm - my gut feeling has been completely wrong for every election since 2008. I thought there was zero chance of a Trump winning & now it's actually looking possible. i don't think I could have written a bigger clownshow than this & made people believe it.
11:30pm - This is like watching a popularity contest between paper wasps vs poison sumac. No matter who wins, we lose.
11:41pm - I couldn't decide which one would make me happier: watching a sad rejected Clinton, or the temper tantrum that Trump would have thrown. Either way, I win tomorrow.
11:58pm - I can't believe I've been doing this shit for like 15 hours already. This was a poor decision.
11:59pm - So... if Trump actually manages to win this disaster of an election, does Hillary's "glass ceiling" imagery by doing her thing at the Javits Center become ironic or just fucking hilarious?
12:04am - Over/Under on when Jim Comey gets blamed for Hillary losing? I'm going with "it's probably already happening"
12:06am - The only thing this election is missing is an RKO outta nowhere!
12:08am - Am I the only one that hears election prognosticators talking about what a candidate needs to do to win, after the polls close, and think "no fucker, [BLANK] has gotta get LUCKY cause they can't do shit anymore"?
12:18am - Calling it a night. This was the exact disaster that I was expecting. And I kinda love it & hate it at the same time. This is all your goddamned fault too. The Dems were so set on giving Hillary her "due", that they ignored how much everyone hates her. Bernie was too fucking insane to be taken seriously. And the Reps did what? Nominate the only person I could think that could somehow, some way be just as hatable as Hillary by just as many people. Christ, this was fucking awful.
8:35am - oh god. I mean... it was going to be a disaster either way. And I still don't know which disaster was going to be worst. But we only get to explore one of the disasters. Lesser or greater evil? I haven't gotten a clue. I just know I won't get what I want in my lifetime... someone that will leave me & everyone else the fuck alone.
8:42am - America... when I get drunk, I just put my phone away & try not to set things on fire. You apparently decided that your options were to wipe your ass with poison ivy or set the forest on fire. But at least you gave me comedy fodder for the next 4 years. This is going to be a complete & total farce.
This is going to be a total fucking disaster & it needs to be chronicled through the eyes of an asshole who hates everything.
Oh wait, that's what the rest of the Internet is for. So instead you get me. Off work because I'm getting a new driveway & somebody's gotta be here.
I'll be updating this today as thoughts stike me & things happen.
Most notable thought so far? It's days like today that make me miss this chicken place at OSU that would deliver fried chicken, beer & cigarettes. You have no idea how helpful this would be today.
8:28am - the least original hot take for today: this is really the best we could fucking do? Really? REALLY?
8:29am - Thank you DVR for being super busy on Monday nights so I have like 5 hours of TV to watch instead of morning news.
8:33am - what the fuck happened to the iPhone's keyboard with iOS 10? It doesn't switch back & forth between symbols & characters automatically anymore after you elect a symbol. I dislike this. Do you know how many times I've typed "we'43" instead of "we're" because of this & then had to Fucking fix it? I hate this.
8:39am - how has there never been a Cokie Roberts/Cocaine mash-up meme?
8:42am - thus far, watching a bunch of dudes rip up my driveway is 10,000x more interesting than any of the morning news election obsession coverage.
8:47am - over/under on me starting to drink before noon today?
8:55am - I forgot that I didn't watch The Walking Dead for this week yet. At least hat solves the problem of "how can I avoid the news for the next hour?"
9:40am - news from the future!!! "President Elect Bob" is the surprise winner after everyone else mysteriously quits. Nobody yet knows Bob's last name after he was picked as the 1000th person to come thru the TravelAmerica in Breezewood after all other candidates simultaneously quit at 2:00 this afternoon.
9:59am - does anyone wanna bring me pancakes? Pancakes will improve everything.
10:53am - in a surprise turn, I still haven't started drinking.
10:59am - still awaiting magical delivery pancakes. Still very disappointed.
11:16am - settled on delivery burger. Also turned the news back on. Have we started taking couches off porches on Election Day too instead of just during OSU/Michigan or Pitt/WVU game Saturday's now? We might want to consider it. I foresee the USA turning into Oakland on a Pitt football Saturday today. White trash couch burning idiot. Like the assholes that woo at baseball & hockey games.
11:24am - it seems like Elections have taken on the same traits as millenials with their birthdays. First it was celebrated for a day. Then a week. Now the entitled assholes celebrate for a whole month. That's the fucking election. It's like Christmas. It's somehow now something we do from about a week after the previous one all the way until the next one. Stop it. Everything gets 1 day. Stop turning it into a whole fucking excursion.
12:45pm - My delivery burger was fucking delicious.
12:58pm - I have decided that 2pm is when my day drinking begins today.
1:21pm - if you haven't voted yet, remember that Bailey is eligible as a write-in candidate. And he's the only candidate that won't make you nauseous to be in the same room with, or will make you vomit when he licks your hand. Just wants your pets & your vote.
1:52pm - also, vote Phil Kessel, Stanley Cup Champion. Nice guy. Tries hard. Loves the game.
1:57pm - which candidate looks better with a set of balls resting in their forehead? Decision 2016!
2:00pm - I'm starting drinking now. Shit's about to get REAL! Come join me at my house if you're bored & want to entirely ignore the election from 7:08 until the end of the Pens game. By watching the Pens game....
2:55pm - absolutely nothing has fucking changed today except that I am now 2 beers deep. This is why all-day coverage of shit that doesn't happen for another like 5 hours is completely unnecessary. Especially when nobody cares about what is going on until after shit is already closed. American network news election coverage & TSN's NHL Trade Deadline Day share this same problem. But you idiots (and today, me idiot) watches it.
3:25pm - I wonder if there's a correlation between the number of crazy people in this country and the advent of 24 hour election coverage? I know that in under 8 hours, I'm already feeling a little unhinged.
3:50pm - I think I love how much pretty much everyone voting or running for something today hates everyone else. It's refreshing to see narcissistic asshats of generation ME being so honest about it. I also hope everyone I disagree with dies in a fire.
3:53pm - I have determined that these beers are not poisoned. I believe that the 5 I've drank is a good sample size for the case.
3:58pm - I would attempt to turn this election into a drinking game, but I think any rules that I come up with will kill me.
4:01pm - there is a squirrel in my yard that I believe might be the most qualified for the presidency out of the squirrel, the sociopathic game show host, and the criminal
4:04pm - I may consider drinking whiskey to make tonight tolerable. This is important. There are not many things I find more intolerable than whiskey, but I have reached the point where swallowing whiskey may be more tolerable than swallowing this election trainwreck
4:06pm - I am also out of things to watch on my DVR. There goes my fucking diversion.
5:15pm - the election has become basically pro wrestling. I'm just waiting for Hulk Hogan to do a run-in & clothesline someone before his ring music hits & he starts doing his "I am a real American!" "Can you hear me?" thing.
5:21pm - they then become tag team partners for the next 4 years
5:30pm - oh look, a comic book. It's probably got a plot that's as realistic as this election. *scans cover* time machine & teleportation to an alien planet infested with roach-like parasites.... yep, pretty much this election.
5:37pm - the chick that's reporting from Clinton HQ on CNN sounds like she doesn't know what the fuck she wants to say. George Bush on TelePrompTer sounded more sure of his next word.
6:04pm - I once again want delivery pancakes. I might have to settle for pizza. They're both round foods tho, so that's good.
6:06pm - these candidates are NOT good dogs, Brent
6:12pm - anal is the new oral
6:18pm - this comic book is better than the news.... but this is not news. Comic books are already almost always better than the news
6:24pm - too drunk to go anywhere to get food. But hungry now. Why does Sheetz not deliver? Also, 36 minutes to hockey.
6:28pm - can I count my new driveway as part of the "infrastructure repair" whichever candidate wins will inevitably propose?
6:32pm - Phil Kessel 2016. Good guy. Tries hard. Loves the game.
7:00pm - it's hockey time now so I'll check back in during the intermissions. I guarantee nothing changes
7:01pm - how did I not know there were emotional support puppies at some of the polls today? This makes elections better. Or at least tolerable
8:39pm - at least the hockey game is good. But the news is like a bunch of monkeys trying to understand statistics anyway
8:43pm - they're already starting with the "too close to call" shit already.
9:53pm - well, the Pens won. That's a victory for America at least & proved some parts of life are still rational. But Trump actually maybe winning? That's insanity. Beautiful, horrific, physics-defying insanity.
10:00pm - how in the blue hell does Montana have 3 electoral votes? Cows aren't citizens.
10:05pm - So I think we should kill the loser of elections from now on. Or at least Hunger Games the shit out of them in some arena battle.
10:10pm - I've switched my drink up to purple Fanta & coconut rum
10:19pm - I'm going to wake up sometime in the future & realize 2016 was a hallucination, right? RIGHT!?!?
10:40pm - next season on "America: Let's Vote", we pick between even worse human beings. It's all-star season starting with Charles Manson & the guy that decided tights as pants was acceptable outerwear!
10:44pm - for the record, America... this is the shittiest version of Date, Marry, Kill you've ever come up with.
11:11pm - this proves that the only way to watch an election is shithoused
11:17pm - my gut feeling has been completely wrong for every election since 2008. I thought there was zero chance of a Trump winning & now it's actually looking possible. i don't think I could have written a bigger clownshow than this & made people believe it.
11:30pm - This is like watching a popularity contest between paper wasps vs poison sumac. No matter who wins, we lose.
11:41pm - I couldn't decide which one would make me happier: watching a sad rejected Clinton, or the temper tantrum that Trump would have thrown. Either way, I win tomorrow.
11:58pm - I can't believe I've been doing this shit for like 15 hours already. This was a poor decision.
11:59pm - So... if Trump actually manages to win this disaster of an election, does Hillary's "glass ceiling" imagery by doing her thing at the Javits Center become ironic or just fucking hilarious?
12:04am - Over/Under on when Jim Comey gets blamed for Hillary losing? I'm going with "it's probably already happening"
12:06am - The only thing this election is missing is an RKO outta nowhere!
12:08am - Am I the only one that hears election prognosticators talking about what a candidate needs to do to win, after the polls close, and think "no fucker, [BLANK] has gotta get LUCKY cause they can't do shit anymore"?
12:18am - Calling it a night. This was the exact disaster that I was expecting. And I kinda love it & hate it at the same time. This is all your goddamned fault too. The Dems were so set on giving Hillary her "due", that they ignored how much everyone hates her. Bernie was too fucking insane to be taken seriously. And the Reps did what? Nominate the only person I could think that could somehow, some way be just as hatable as Hillary by just as many people. Christ, this was fucking awful.
8:35am - oh god. I mean... it was going to be a disaster either way. And I still don't know which disaster was going to be worst. But we only get to explore one of the disasters. Lesser or greater evil? I haven't gotten a clue. I just know I won't get what I want in my lifetime... someone that will leave me & everyone else the fuck alone.
8:42am - America... when I get drunk, I just put my phone away & try not to set things on fire. You apparently decided that your options were to wipe your ass with poison ivy or set the forest on fire. But at least you gave me comedy fodder for the next 4 years. This is going to be a complete & total farce.
We're Doomed - RTOTD #891
Day 891
We're all doomed & I'm blaming you for this.
The only thing that can save us is a write-in vote for Bailey. Or the Rock.
Vote Bailey 2016. At least he doesn't make 90% of the population vomit at the mere sight of him.
But we're all doomed.
We're all doomed & I'm blaming you for this.
The only thing that can save us is a write-in vote for Bailey. Or the Rock.
Vote Bailey 2016. At least he doesn't make 90% of the population vomit at the mere sight of him.
But we're all doomed.
You're Doing It Wrong... AGAIN - RTOTD #890
Day 890
I need to get something off my chest:
Men's shorts should not, under almost any circumstance, stop above the knee. It's an affront to fashion akin to the recent trend of mom jeans suddenly being fucking cool again or tights as pants. I mean, if we're suddenly back in 1992 for fashion, are the spandex biker shorts next? Cause if so, I'm gonna have to start burning things down again.
There is nothing about this fashion that is even remotely attractive so cut it out. It was hideous in 1992 & it's hideous now. It aged about as well as neon orange hats, vented sunglasses, hypercolor tshirts & hair metal. It's fun & nostalgic for a night every few years at a theme party but not as actual everyday wear.
So if you're a man & your shorts don't at least cover the kneecap, you're fucking doing it wrong. Stop it. Stop it & go find a pair of pants until you can find an appropriate length of shorts.
I need to get something off my chest:
Men's shorts should not, under almost any circumstance, stop above the knee. It's an affront to fashion akin to the recent trend of mom jeans suddenly being fucking cool again or tights as pants. I mean, if we're suddenly back in 1992 for fashion, are the spandex biker shorts next? Cause if so, I'm gonna have to start burning things down again.
There is nothing about this fashion that is even remotely attractive so cut it out. It was hideous in 1992 & it's hideous now. It aged about as well as neon orange hats, vented sunglasses, hypercolor tshirts & hair metal. It's fun & nostalgic for a night every few years at a theme party but not as actual everyday wear.
So if you're a man & your shorts don't at least cover the kneecap, you're fucking doing it wrong. Stop it. Stop it & go find a pair of pants until you can find an appropriate length of shorts.
Monday Truisms - RTOTD #889
Day 889
Here's a few truisms for your Monday morning:
For every hot girl in the world, there's at least 1 dude that's sick of her shit.
You'll never lose pussy chasing money, but you'll always lose money chasing pussy.
The sad truth is, the reason you hear crazy ex girlfriend stories is because the worst she does is put superglue on the toilet seat when you dump her after sex, while crazy ex-boyfriend stories tend to get told to the police man if the woman get the chance to tell them at all.
Coffee sucks. Anyone who claims to actually enjoy it is a fucking liar. It is fuel for when your sleep did not adequately refuel you & nothing more. I'm betting 92 octane doesn't taste very good either.
Treat your body like an amusement park when you're young. Getting up for work after 12 beers & 3 hours of sleep is a lot harder in your mid 30's.
Say please & thank you.
There's a line between just being an asshole & being racist/sexist/whatever. Not all dickbaggery comes from the same place. Don't assume it does.
I really really hope half of you die in a fire
Here's a few truisms for your Monday morning:
For every hot girl in the world, there's at least 1 dude that's sick of her shit.
You'll never lose pussy chasing money, but you'll always lose money chasing pussy.
The sad truth is, the reason you hear crazy ex girlfriend stories is because the worst she does is put superglue on the toilet seat when you dump her after sex, while crazy ex-boyfriend stories tend to get told to the police man if the woman get the chance to tell them at all.
Coffee sucks. Anyone who claims to actually enjoy it is a fucking liar. It is fuel for when your sleep did not adequately refuel you & nothing more. I'm betting 92 octane doesn't taste very good either.
Treat your body like an amusement park when you're young. Getting up for work after 12 beers & 3 hours of sleep is a lot harder in your mid 30's.
Say please & thank you.
There's a line between just being an asshole & being racist/sexist/whatever. Not all dickbaggery comes from the same place. Don't assume it does.
I really really hope half of you die in a fire
The Best We Can Do - RTOTD #888
Day 888
I wish I could turn my tv on without some politician popping up on it. Because I think we've finally reached a new low for these assholes. Are we really at a point where the best we can do are a game show host, a screechy old lady, the last guy alive that thought the Bolshevik Revolution was a good idea (and probably saw it in person) & a younger grandpa Munster?
At least Mitt had some spectacular hair, Obama was obviously a blank slate & W was a bumbling fool. I could live with that.
But fuck this. I'm actually voting Bailey 2016.
It's a race to the bottom these days. It's the Olive Garden of political toolbags. Lowest common denominator. I mean, come on... Joe fucking Biden, the laughing stock of the 2004 & 2008 primaries is considered a shoe-in if he runs? Really? The guy that told a dude in a wheelchair to stand up and take a bow once not too long ago is the great hope of a large portion of the country so they don't have to vote for some angry lady that lies about pretty much everything or a guy that has fond memories of seeing a hammer and sickle.
And the other assholes are no fucking better. For Christ sake, you have a douchebag game show host as the leading candidate. If I have to take a guy best known for a tv catch phrase and his hair, can I at least get Alex Trabek? I'll live with Pat Sajak or even Steve Harvey. Maybe we can dig up Morton Downey & jusr vote for his corpse. At least when they're dicks to large groups of people it's funny! And while you can't spell manslaughter without laughter, it's a little less funny when the guy might actually do it. So hey Donald, just go back to your podium until it's time to play the Feud, ok?
So how about we pick a plant. Or a dog. And vote for that. I'm thinking a ficus for President with Bailey as his running mate. Because Ficus is a funny word & if someone forgets to water it & it dies in office, we at least get a dog to take over. Not like it can be worse.
I wish I could turn my tv on without some politician popping up on it. Because I think we've finally reached a new low for these assholes. Are we really at a point where the best we can do are a game show host, a screechy old lady, the last guy alive that thought the Bolshevik Revolution was a good idea (and probably saw it in person) & a younger grandpa Munster?
At least Mitt had some spectacular hair, Obama was obviously a blank slate & W was a bumbling fool. I could live with that.
But fuck this. I'm actually voting Bailey 2016.
It's a race to the bottom these days. It's the Olive Garden of political toolbags. Lowest common denominator. I mean, come on... Joe fucking Biden, the laughing stock of the 2004 & 2008 primaries is considered a shoe-in if he runs? Really? The guy that told a dude in a wheelchair to stand up and take a bow once not too long ago is the great hope of a large portion of the country so they don't have to vote for some angry lady that lies about pretty much everything or a guy that has fond memories of seeing a hammer and sickle.
And the other assholes are no fucking better. For Christ sake, you have a douchebag game show host as the leading candidate. If I have to take a guy best known for a tv catch phrase and his hair, can I at least get Alex Trabek? I'll live with Pat Sajak or even Steve Harvey. Maybe we can dig up Morton Downey & jusr vote for his corpse. At least when they're dicks to large groups of people it's funny! And while you can't spell manslaughter without laughter, it's a little less funny when the guy might actually do it. So hey Donald, just go back to your podium until it's time to play the Feud, ok?
So how about we pick a plant. Or a dog. And vote for that. I'm thinking a ficus for President with Bailey as his running mate. Because Ficus is a funny word & if someone forgets to water it & it dies in office, we at least get a dog to take over. Not like it can be worse.
A Little Conspiracy Theory... To Brighten Up Your Day - RTOTD# 887
Day 887
So apparently there's been some kind of recent upswing in celebrities with weird delusions on conspiracy theories. I keep coming across them every so often. One of the sisters of that broad with the enormous ass that's married to Kanye who are all famous for wholly perplexing reasons who was yammering on about Chemtrails. All of the (rather startling number of) celebrities that are 9/11 Truthers. Crack & AIDS were created by the CIA to kill black people & the gays. The baffling number of people that believe the moon landing was a fake.
But the most recent revival of a centuries old conspiracy theory is the flat earth one that is apparently going on on Twitter right now promoted by a rapper & argued against by Neil DeGrasse fucking Tyson.
Now see, this is a conspiracy theory that I just don't get because I don't even understand its purpose. I mean, ok... The rest at least pass the sniff test. Not necessarily in legitimacy but on the "could it even be a conspiracy?" level. Why? Because what's the purpose of a conspiracy to begin with? You create a conspiracy to hide some nefarious goals that generally revolve around the acquisition or continued stranglehold on power, control, general authority or wealth, right? Let's even look at some of them assuming that they're not bat guano insane:
Crack & AIDS being created to kill black people to prevent a loss of power built around systemic racism. Kill them if you can't control them or some other generally similar racist reasons.
The faked moon landing could have been done to hide the billions of dollars that the aerospace industry & space program spent & how many people got rich for accomplishing nothing. Taxpayers would lose their shit. It was a Cold War propaganda tool but all the people involved got filthy rich & the country was lied to.
Chemtrails? I guess some sort of mass control or dosing of the public with some sort of chemical for indeterminate reasons. Nanobots to take over our brains at some point down the line. I don't fucking know. Something something controlling people & maintaining authority probably.
9/11 was an inside job? Don't even get me started on all the insane conclusion jumping in this one. Surprised nobody has gotten a muscle tear from all that leaping.
Fuck, I love a cool conspiracy theory as much as anyone else (it's Bearenstein Bears, not Bearenstain & I know that I accidentally fell into a parallel universe) but come the fuck on here. What in the ever loving blue fuck is the purpose behind a flat earth conspiracy? I have so many fucking questions about why anyone would give 2 tugs of a dead dog's cock about the shape of the planet & why flat, round, square or imaginary, why it would matter.
Why would people spend centuries denying it? Does flatness give people who know of it godly powers? Do you learn to see the 3rd dimension as the hologram that it is?
What is at "the edge"? Big piles of gold? Leprechauns? Unicorns? A really odd view? Narnia? A really cool rock. Where we put all the dinosaur bones?
Are there guards and stuff that protect "the edge"? Just like lines of troops? Or robots? Monkeys with pitchforks? A big wall? Did Donald Trump build it? Is he actually a really adept wall builder?
Does it like wrap around back underneath? Like you immediately get to the edge & it's like a conveyor belt that wraps you around underneath or like you get to the edge of a mirror & just start going in the other direction but realize you're now IN the mirror?? If so, I think Kiefer Sutherland owes these guys some royalty money. So how can it wrap around & yet we still have oceans & shit that we can dive down into. If we dive all the way to the bottom of the Marianas Trench, do we come out in Mirror Earth on the other side or something?
Who benefits & how from this bewildering theory & insult to physics? Not like anyone makes any money out of the deal. And unless it's some weird Mirror World invasion plot or something, it doesn't really do much for control or power or authority except for some weird arbitrary control of information exercise. So seriously... Why would there even need to BE a conspiracy about a Flat Earth. Not like anyone's exactly getting rich off that sweet sweet gentle curve of the globe or anything.
This is just one that makes my fucking head hurt. And that's saying something. I think about paradoxes of time travel for fun.
So apparently there's been some kind of recent upswing in celebrities with weird delusions on conspiracy theories. I keep coming across them every so often. One of the sisters of that broad with the enormous ass that's married to Kanye who are all famous for wholly perplexing reasons who was yammering on about Chemtrails. All of the (rather startling number of) celebrities that are 9/11 Truthers. Crack & AIDS were created by the CIA to kill black people & the gays. The baffling number of people that believe the moon landing was a fake.
But the most recent revival of a centuries old conspiracy theory is the flat earth one that is apparently going on on Twitter right now promoted by a rapper & argued against by Neil DeGrasse fucking Tyson.
Now see, this is a conspiracy theory that I just don't get because I don't even understand its purpose. I mean, ok... The rest at least pass the sniff test. Not necessarily in legitimacy but on the "could it even be a conspiracy?" level. Why? Because what's the purpose of a conspiracy to begin with? You create a conspiracy to hide some nefarious goals that generally revolve around the acquisition or continued stranglehold on power, control, general authority or wealth, right? Let's even look at some of them assuming that they're not bat guano insane:
Crack & AIDS being created to kill black people to prevent a loss of power built around systemic racism. Kill them if you can't control them or some other generally similar racist reasons.
The faked moon landing could have been done to hide the billions of dollars that the aerospace industry & space program spent & how many people got rich for accomplishing nothing. Taxpayers would lose their shit. It was a Cold War propaganda tool but all the people involved got filthy rich & the country was lied to.
Chemtrails? I guess some sort of mass control or dosing of the public with some sort of chemical for indeterminate reasons. Nanobots to take over our brains at some point down the line. I don't fucking know. Something something controlling people & maintaining authority probably.
9/11 was an inside job? Don't even get me started on all the insane conclusion jumping in this one. Surprised nobody has gotten a muscle tear from all that leaping.
Fuck, I love a cool conspiracy theory as much as anyone else (it's Bearenstein Bears, not Bearenstain & I know that I accidentally fell into a parallel universe) but come the fuck on here. What in the ever loving blue fuck is the purpose behind a flat earth conspiracy? I have so many fucking questions about why anyone would give 2 tugs of a dead dog's cock about the shape of the planet & why flat, round, square or imaginary, why it would matter.
Why would people spend centuries denying it? Does flatness give people who know of it godly powers? Do you learn to see the 3rd dimension as the hologram that it is?
What is at "the edge"? Big piles of gold? Leprechauns? Unicorns? A really odd view? Narnia? A really cool rock. Where we put all the dinosaur bones?
Are there guards and stuff that protect "the edge"? Just like lines of troops? Or robots? Monkeys with pitchforks? A big wall? Did Donald Trump build it? Is he actually a really adept wall builder?
Does it like wrap around back underneath? Like you immediately get to the edge & it's like a conveyor belt that wraps you around underneath or like you get to the edge of a mirror & just start going in the other direction but realize you're now IN the mirror?? If so, I think Kiefer Sutherland owes these guys some royalty money. So how can it wrap around & yet we still have oceans & shit that we can dive down into. If we dive all the way to the bottom of the Marianas Trench, do we come out in Mirror Earth on the other side or something?
Who benefits & how from this bewildering theory & insult to physics? Not like anyone makes any money out of the deal. And unless it's some weird Mirror World invasion plot or something, it doesn't really do much for control or power or authority except for some weird arbitrary control of information exercise. So seriously... Why would there even need to BE a conspiracy about a Flat Earth. Not like anyone's exactly getting rich off that sweet sweet gentle curve of the globe or anything.
This is just one that makes my fucking head hurt. And that's saying something. I think about paradoxes of time travel for fun.
Nobody Gets A Fucking Car - RTOTD #886
Day 886
So I'm going to channel my inner Oprah today & give you a list of my Top 10 favorite things. But unlike Oprah, you won't find your own bundle of these things in a bag under your fucking chair & you aren't getting a free car... Well, there might be a bundle of these things under your chair when you look, but I offer no guarantee. I am a mediocre wizard & my conjuring skills are spotty. You might also get a bag of flaming dog poop. I refuse to confirm or deny that I had anything to do with that. But you should probably take it as a hint that I don't like you very much. Or I really like fucking with you.
But back on topic, here's a list of my Top 10 favorite things (that I'm not giving you):
1. Butt sex. If I could conjure up anal sex with my wizarding skills, I would not be sending it to you. I would be enjoying it all to myself. And yes, before I need to play gay chicken for a half hour in the comments section, my butt sex preference is obviously on the giving end. With the ladies. But you know...if you're really pretty, I might make an exception (no I won't)
2. People with reading & listening comprehension skills. You don't know how often I end up wanting to beat my fucking head against a wall or punch a kitten when I say or write something that I know may be slightly meandering but the point is also pretty fucking obvious, yet the reader/listening just doesn't seem to grasp it. My kingdom for some conversation with critical thinkers.
3. Dogs. I don't think this needs explained. I am a gigantic assbag most of the time to most people, but I fucking love dogs. I'm like Elmyra from Tiny Toons. Or maybe that abominable snowman that always tried to adopt Daffy Duck on old-school Looney Tunes. I want to love you and hug you and squeeze you and love you. And I will name you George.
Shut the fuck up. I like dogs. They're a lot better than you fuckers. At least they are happy to see me. I'm not even happy to see me when I come home & I think I'm fucking awesome.
4. Comics. Because it means I can look at pictures & read & I don't have to deal with people to enjoy them.
5.Girls in heels. It's almost a fetish for me. I hate feet but girls in heels does it for me. Hot girl in heels? Awesome. Mediocre girl wearing heels? Good. But sorry ladies, ugly is ugly. And even wearing heels won't change that. It obviously can't hurt, if you're on that borderline but it won't put you over the line. So sorry ladies, being ugly is like being a man. You're gonna have to work for a living.
6. Pizza. Especially pepperoni with extra pepperoni & maybe some more pepperoni on top of that. But with a pretzel crust. It's like a combination of 2 of my favorite things into 1. Why this is all the way down at #6 is beyond me. It should be all the way at the top. Maybe that's a testament to how much I love dogs, comics, butt sex & girls in heels, but yeah... sorry you're #6 pizza. I can only eat you between 1 and 3 times a day. I can enjoy the other things multiple times a day. And multiple times. I bet I could even enjoy some of them at once (hint to the ladies: butt sex while wearing heels... definitely a winner. That would probably #2.5 on the list, if I was feeling decimals today. I'm not. But if I was)
But sadly, I can't enjoy pizza and any of the other things simultaneously. Pizza & comics are a bad mix. I'm not fighting the dogs for my pizza. Pizza a butt sex seems probably like that's a sanitary issue waiting to happen, pizza & reading comprehension kinda works, and pizza with a girl in heels is kinda ok too. But I think I'd be too elated or focused on one or the other there to enjoy the pizza.
7. Building or fixing things. I don't know how to explain this but the sense of accomplishment after starting with 1 thing & transforming it into something else is absolutely astonishing. There's nothing that even really compares to it, because it's a fully creative endeavor. And unlike say, having kids, you're either disappointed in your work as soon as it's done or when sat aside a similar piece of work, or you're not. But there's no risk of being disappointed in it 15-20 years down the line when it's an adult. 15-20 years down the line, if you don't like the thing you built, you can throw it away or sell it. But I think that's called murder or child abuse or human trafficking when you do it with children.
8. Apple products. Because I'm very happy when my stuff just all works together without me needing to dick around too much. And even when it gets a little goofy, that's minor compared to pretty much every other device integration in history made by anyone else. So fuck Google. Fuck Microsoft. Fuck Samsung & ok Linux, you're alright. But fuck everyone else. I'm out.
9. Belhaven Wee Heavy. Beer being this far down my list these days must be a sign that I'm getting old. 10 years ago, it would have been competing with pizza and butt sex for the top spot. But I guess like any 20-some-odd-year relationship, we aren't as close as we once were, but we're still always there for each other when we need the other. Yes, I know I'm almost 35 & the math there is weird. I was a professional at 15 and Beer & I had known each other for a few years before we got super close in my teens.
10. Anger. I know that for most people, this would not be on any sort of list of shit that they actually loved. But for me, it's different. Anger serves me well in life. From getting what I want to actually being able to write anything beyond an occasional email or txt message. Anything that might be even somewhat enjoyable or entertaining that I could put down in words or have fall out of my mouth has to come at least partially from anger. Well, anger or frustration or depression. But they're all pretty much one big ball of things that I don't deal well with so I redirect them & they comes out in the form of occasionally amusing borderline lunatic rantings. Which... well... hey, it's kinda part of who I am, right? So without the anger, I don't think I'm even a fun person to be around. Without the anger, I'm just some guy sitting in his recliner reading some comics, or doing yard work or cleaning the fucking house. I'm a boring motherfucker. I need anger. I need anger to be fun. To be funny. To be interesting. To be myself. And when I don't really have it, well... I'm just not even me & I kinda fucking hate it. I don't even like being around me when I don't have anger in my life.
And I'll be honest... but I've kinda given up on fighting the culture war at this point. My side (common fucking sense) has already essentially yielded far too much territory to the other side (complete & utter lunacy whose concept of logic borders on the fever-induced gibberish of a recently lobotomized mental patient) and I'm just waiting for them to hang themselves from the rope that they've demanded. So that part of my anger is a bit subdued for the time being. But the overall life anger is still there. It was just hibernating for a while.
So there you go... a Top 10 List of things that you're not getting under your chair for free later because I'm actually a spectacular wizard but I just don't like you & I'm greedy & keeping it all to myself.
So I'm going to channel my inner Oprah today & give you a list of my Top 10 favorite things. But unlike Oprah, you won't find your own bundle of these things in a bag under your fucking chair & you aren't getting a free car... Well, there might be a bundle of these things under your chair when you look, but I offer no guarantee. I am a mediocre wizard & my conjuring skills are spotty. You might also get a bag of flaming dog poop. I refuse to confirm or deny that I had anything to do with that. But you should probably take it as a hint that I don't like you very much. Or I really like fucking with you.
But back on topic, here's a list of my Top 10 favorite things (that I'm not giving you):
1. Butt sex. If I could conjure up anal sex with my wizarding skills, I would not be sending it to you. I would be enjoying it all to myself. And yes, before I need to play gay chicken for a half hour in the comments section, my butt sex preference is obviously on the giving end. With the ladies. But you know...if you're really pretty, I might make an exception (no I won't)
2. People with reading & listening comprehension skills. You don't know how often I end up wanting to beat my fucking head against a wall or punch a kitten when I say or write something that I know may be slightly meandering but the point is also pretty fucking obvious, yet the reader/listening just doesn't seem to grasp it. My kingdom for some conversation with critical thinkers.
3. Dogs. I don't think this needs explained. I am a gigantic assbag most of the time to most people, but I fucking love dogs. I'm like Elmyra from Tiny Toons. Or maybe that abominable snowman that always tried to adopt Daffy Duck on old-school Looney Tunes. I want to love you and hug you and squeeze you and love you. And I will name you George.
Shut the fuck up. I like dogs. They're a lot better than you fuckers. At least they are happy to see me. I'm not even happy to see me when I come home & I think I'm fucking awesome.
4. Comics. Because it means I can look at pictures & read & I don't have to deal with people to enjoy them.
5.Girls in heels. It's almost a fetish for me. I hate feet but girls in heels does it for me. Hot girl in heels? Awesome. Mediocre girl wearing heels? Good. But sorry ladies, ugly is ugly. And even wearing heels won't change that. It obviously can't hurt, if you're on that borderline but it won't put you over the line. So sorry ladies, being ugly is like being a man. You're gonna have to work for a living.
6. Pizza. Especially pepperoni with extra pepperoni & maybe some more pepperoni on top of that. But with a pretzel crust. It's like a combination of 2 of my favorite things into 1. Why this is all the way down at #6 is beyond me. It should be all the way at the top. Maybe that's a testament to how much I love dogs, comics, butt sex & girls in heels, but yeah... sorry you're #6 pizza. I can only eat you between 1 and 3 times a day. I can enjoy the other things multiple times a day. And multiple times. I bet I could even enjoy some of them at once (hint to the ladies: butt sex while wearing heels... definitely a winner. That would probably #2.5 on the list, if I was feeling decimals today. I'm not. But if I was)
But sadly, I can't enjoy pizza and any of the other things simultaneously. Pizza & comics are a bad mix. I'm not fighting the dogs for my pizza. Pizza a butt sex seems probably like that's a sanitary issue waiting to happen, pizza & reading comprehension kinda works, and pizza with a girl in heels is kinda ok too. But I think I'd be too elated or focused on one or the other there to enjoy the pizza.
7. Building or fixing things. I don't know how to explain this but the sense of accomplishment after starting with 1 thing & transforming it into something else is absolutely astonishing. There's nothing that even really compares to it, because it's a fully creative endeavor. And unlike say, having kids, you're either disappointed in your work as soon as it's done or when sat aside a similar piece of work, or you're not. But there's no risk of being disappointed in it 15-20 years down the line when it's an adult. 15-20 years down the line, if you don't like the thing you built, you can throw it away or sell it. But I think that's called murder or child abuse or human trafficking when you do it with children.
8. Apple products. Because I'm very happy when my stuff just all works together without me needing to dick around too much. And even when it gets a little goofy, that's minor compared to pretty much every other device integration in history made by anyone else. So fuck Google. Fuck Microsoft. Fuck Samsung & ok Linux, you're alright. But fuck everyone else. I'm out.
9. Belhaven Wee Heavy. Beer being this far down my list these days must be a sign that I'm getting old. 10 years ago, it would have been competing with pizza and butt sex for the top spot. But I guess like any 20-some-odd-year relationship, we aren't as close as we once were, but we're still always there for each other when we need the other. Yes, I know I'm almost 35 & the math there is weird. I was a professional at 15 and Beer & I had known each other for a few years before we got super close in my teens.
10. Anger. I know that for most people, this would not be on any sort of list of shit that they actually loved. But for me, it's different. Anger serves me well in life. From getting what I want to actually being able to write anything beyond an occasional email or txt message. Anything that might be even somewhat enjoyable or entertaining that I could put down in words or have fall out of my mouth has to come at least partially from anger. Well, anger or frustration or depression. But they're all pretty much one big ball of things that I don't deal well with so I redirect them & they comes out in the form of occasionally amusing borderline lunatic rantings. Which... well... hey, it's kinda part of who I am, right? So without the anger, I don't think I'm even a fun person to be around. Without the anger, I'm just some guy sitting in his recliner reading some comics, or doing yard work or cleaning the fucking house. I'm a boring motherfucker. I need anger. I need anger to be fun. To be funny. To be interesting. To be myself. And when I don't really have it, well... I'm just not even me & I kinda fucking hate it. I don't even like being around me when I don't have anger in my life.
And I'll be honest... but I've kinda given up on fighting the culture war at this point. My side (common fucking sense) has already essentially yielded far too much territory to the other side (complete & utter lunacy whose concept of logic borders on the fever-induced gibberish of a recently lobotomized mental patient) and I'm just waiting for them to hang themselves from the rope that they've demanded. So that part of my anger is a bit subdued for the time being. But the overall life anger is still there. It was just hibernating for a while.
So there you go... a Top 10 List of things that you're not getting under your chair for free later because I'm actually a spectacular wizard but I just don't like you & I'm greedy & keeping it all to myself.
This Is Your Fault - RTOTD #885
Day 885
I've been looking around the country at the colleges in the news for their crazy childish idiots running around & protesting shit & it dawned on me:
I was yelling at these idiots 4 years ago. Go back & dig up the blogs if you want. They're all there. And if more of YOU had yelled at them too, we probably wouldn't be watching this impenitrable thicket of stupidity where everyone is a victim & it's acceptable to throw a temper tantrum whenever anything at all offends anyone at all to any degree.
This is your fault. I did my job. I yelled at a shitload of them & I gave you all the ammunition that you needed to do it yourself. I'm blaming all of you for allowing this abortion of logic to infect the culture. It's the fringes of culture where these shitty ideas always start & its up to those with more neurons than amoeba to beat it back when someone proposes lunacy on the scale that started gaining steam in places like FetLife a handful of years ago. And we live on the fringe.
So this ridiculous clusterfuck of ineptitude & spoiled children that has been spreading like the least fun STD epidemic in history from Amherst to Yale to whatever bubble of progressive naïveté it will hit next.... It's your fault. I did my part. Because while I may be the ScienceJesus, I am damn sure not omniscient or omnipresent to throw these ideas into a wood chipper of logic every time some other half-witted pretentious social justice warrior spouts off their nonsense.
So I'm blaming you. This is your fault. And I'll never forget it.
I've been looking around the country at the colleges in the news for their crazy childish idiots running around & protesting shit & it dawned on me:
I was yelling at these idiots 4 years ago. Go back & dig up the blogs if you want. They're all there. And if more of YOU had yelled at them too, we probably wouldn't be watching this impenitrable thicket of stupidity where everyone is a victim & it's acceptable to throw a temper tantrum whenever anything at all offends anyone at all to any degree.
This is your fault. I did my job. I yelled at a shitload of them & I gave you all the ammunition that you needed to do it yourself. I'm blaming all of you for allowing this abortion of logic to infect the culture. It's the fringes of culture where these shitty ideas always start & its up to those with more neurons than amoeba to beat it back when someone proposes lunacy on the scale that started gaining steam in places like FetLife a handful of years ago. And we live on the fringe.
So this ridiculous clusterfuck of ineptitude & spoiled children that has been spreading like the least fun STD epidemic in history from Amherst to Yale to whatever bubble of progressive naïveté it will hit next.... It's your fault. I did my part. Because while I may be the ScienceJesus, I am damn sure not omniscient or omnipresent to throw these ideas into a wood chipper of logic every time some other half-witted pretentious social justice warrior spouts off their nonsense.
So I'm blaming you. This is your fault. And I'll never forget it.
Catharsis - RTOTD #884
Day 884
There are some points in your life where things that that angered you or previously would have gotten to you simply stop affecting you. A job where you're regularly unhappy. A restaurant that can't help but fuck up your food with every visit. Parties that you attend but are inevitably bored by. Any number of things that after you've beaten your head against the wall enough times, you come to accept the disappointment & stop trying to make it better before just giving up & move on to a different job, a different restaurant, or a better way to spend a Saturday night. You run out of fucks to give & energy to bother handing those fucks out if you find a spare few in your other pants.
It happens with people in life as well. Admittedly, most often with females, at least in my life. But its been known to happen with male friends as well. Either way, i just reach an end point with dealing with the bullshit that someone else routinely heaps upon my life & I shut down. I stop caring completely. I feel a little sad, certainly, but only at the knowledge that I've reached yet another off-ramp where I will once again, let a passenger out & continue on my way. That I've gotta slow to stop, and rather than be a dick & just shove them out of the car at 90 mph, throwing their shit out the window over the next 2 miles. Instead I stop & let them out, make sure they have all their baggage so I'm not saddled with any more than my own, and wish them luck while trying to not get hit by a semi when it's time to merge back onto the freeway.
It's a sad realization: that something once fun & great has become spoiled & toxic. That as much as you'd like, you might have been able to preserve it once but once bad, is forever ruined. And it's sadder yet that you don't really mourn for the thing itself, but for the waste of something, the time & energy expended in removing the toxicity that you be been exposed to, and the hole left to be refilled by something else.
It's a cathartic experience.
There are some points in your life where things that that angered you or previously would have gotten to you simply stop affecting you. A job where you're regularly unhappy. A restaurant that can't help but fuck up your food with every visit. Parties that you attend but are inevitably bored by. Any number of things that after you've beaten your head against the wall enough times, you come to accept the disappointment & stop trying to make it better before just giving up & move on to a different job, a different restaurant, or a better way to spend a Saturday night. You run out of fucks to give & energy to bother handing those fucks out if you find a spare few in your other pants.
It happens with people in life as well. Admittedly, most often with females, at least in my life. But its been known to happen with male friends as well. Either way, i just reach an end point with dealing with the bullshit that someone else routinely heaps upon my life & I shut down. I stop caring completely. I feel a little sad, certainly, but only at the knowledge that I've reached yet another off-ramp where I will once again, let a passenger out & continue on my way. That I've gotta slow to stop, and rather than be a dick & just shove them out of the car at 90 mph, throwing their shit out the window over the next 2 miles. Instead I stop & let them out, make sure they have all their baggage so I'm not saddled with any more than my own, and wish them luck while trying to not get hit by a semi when it's time to merge back onto the freeway.
It's a sad realization: that something once fun & great has become spoiled & toxic. That as much as you'd like, you might have been able to preserve it once but once bad, is forever ruined. And it's sadder yet that you don't really mourn for the thing itself, but for the waste of something, the time & energy expended in removing the toxicity that you be been exposed to, and the hole left to be refilled by something else.
It's a cathartic experience.
I Promise - RTOTD #883
Day 883
Did you hear that noise in the closet the other night? It sounded like something hit the wall.
Did you have a dream that there was someone standing over your head? It felt too real.
Did you hear something move in the bushes? But then it just stayed in the bushes right outside your window.
Did you swear that you left something in 1 place but find it somewhere else? It didn't grow legs & walk there.
I promise it wasn't me.
I promise.
Did you hear that noise in the closet the other night? It sounded like something hit the wall.
Did you have a dream that there was someone standing over your head? It felt too real.
Did you hear something move in the bushes? But then it just stayed in the bushes right outside your window.
Did you swear that you left something in 1 place but find it somewhere else? It didn't grow legs & walk there.
I promise it wasn't me.
I promise.
Bored To Death - RTOTD #882
Day 882
Blah blah privilege... Blah blah pronouns... Blah blah problem... Blah blah horrible assholes
Fucking whatever, kids. I mean, feel free to keep beating your drum but it's going to fall on deaf ears. I'm bored to death hearing about douchebags acting like douchebags & people pitching a bitch about it. We get it. A portion of the population act like entitled assholes online.
This is my shocked face....
You're preaching to the choir, children. Whenever you write some long, holier than thou, blame-casting declaration on loosely defined groups of people that are unlikely to ever hear you, much less care or be convinced to change their behavior.
Here's the thing: anybody that your rambling diatribe would apply to is going to ignore you. And those that don't will, out of spite, continue acting like horrible assholes to troll you because it's funny to them.
So instead of whining on the Internet about shit, just try to enjoy yourself, ignore obnoxious asshats & yell at them whenever you need to voice your rage. And feel free to enjoy tilting at windmills, but don't be shocked when you waste a whole lot of time & energy on things that no amount of incessant online posting will ever even hope to change.
And in the meantime, have a nice day.
I hate you all.
Blah blah privilege... Blah blah pronouns... Blah blah problem... Blah blah horrible assholes
Fucking whatever, kids. I mean, feel free to keep beating your drum but it's going to fall on deaf ears. I'm bored to death hearing about douchebags acting like douchebags & people pitching a bitch about it. We get it. A portion of the population act like entitled assholes online.
This is my shocked face....
You're preaching to the choir, children. Whenever you write some long, holier than thou, blame-casting declaration on loosely defined groups of people that are unlikely to ever hear you, much less care or be convinced to change their behavior.
Here's the thing: anybody that your rambling diatribe would apply to is going to ignore you. And those that don't will, out of spite, continue acting like horrible assholes to troll you because it's funny to them.
So instead of whining on the Internet about shit, just try to enjoy yourself, ignore obnoxious asshats & yell at them whenever you need to voice your rage. And feel free to enjoy tilting at windmills, but don't be shocked when you waste a whole lot of time & energy on things that no amount of incessant online posting will ever even hope to change.
And in the meantime, have a nice day.
I hate you all.
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