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
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