"Why don’t you have a job? My aunt has a job AND goes to school AND she’s only 19!!!!????!?!?!?--
—My girlfriend’s five-year-old son. He was seriously concerned.
And no, my girlfriend didn’t help me out. I had to fend for myself on that one.
It’s been snowing lately and my sister, humanitarian that she is, was shoveling her elderly neighbor’s sidewalk when this guy pulls up in his guidomobile and blocks the guy’s driveway totally ignoring all established protocols for decent manners. My sister waits until the guy comes out of the 4-wheel-drive-penile-compensator and tells the ponytailed balding man that he simply cannot park there since it is an active driveway. He snort-laughs and then says something to the effect of “That’s ok. I’m fine parking here” and puts his hand on his hip, pushing his jacket out of the way to show off his gun.
My sister, in shock says “Oh. Nice piece! :)” and continues to shovel out the neighbor’s driveway. The guy responds by asking her out for coffee, an offer she quickly turned down. I can only assume that it’s because she’s afraid of intimacy since the guy:
She needs a man! She’s a single mom and is getting too old to poledance for dollars!
I know I have issues with smells/odours and I tend to go a little wonky when I get pissed off (usually resulting in tazers and police and night in jail where I have to use a roll of toilet paper as a pillow) but help me out on this, and tell me if I’m wrong:
I’m back in school after a 7 year absence. Since I’m not working I get to have 8:00am classes. 8:00 in the morning means that other than taking a dump, showering and eating breakfast this class should be the first thing you do that day. Therefore there is absolutely no excuse for BO. Other then hating your life. I was told that some people don’t always shower in the morning. That is not cool. At least spray yourself down with febreeze.
The only thing that comes anywhere near being as bad as that are the douche-nozzles that dump a whole bottle of rancid Albanian knock-off cologne on their junk instead of actually showering. That shit smells like rotten onions and old gym-socks left in a garbage bag in the trunk of a car for a month and then blended with a quart of hobo piss. I was sitting in my Vector Calculus class this morning and I couldn’t pay attention because my eyes were stinging so bad. I had to run to the physics lab room next door and use their eyewash fountain. I thought that smell was still on me, but no… it isn’t! I asked random people how I smelled (yes I was that worried that I ran up and made people smell me. They do it because if a 6’2, 314lb man tells you to do something you do it). They didn’t notice anything so that means that either you killed their sense of smell or you left more than enough stank particles in my nose that I have Phantom Scent Syndrome!
If I have to smell this all day I think I’m gonna climb a clock tower with a sniper rifle.
I need to find a ninja who’ll teach me the art of the roundhouse kick. That way when people need one, to set them straight, I can deliver. It’ll be my community service. Like that time I had to rake leaves on the side of the highway because I had to poop really bad after getting trashed off of peach schnapps and Royal Crown and this asshole wouldn’t let me use his bathroom. I know that he had one ‘cause when he opened the door I took a look in his house and he had some really nice stuff like a wide-screen TV and shit. When he wouldn’t let me poop inside I took a dump on his lawn and broke a sprinkler head off and made a bidet out of it (‘cause I can’t stand skidmarks). Only this time? It’s for a greater good and will make a real difference.
To the “Family Dollar” store on Main street:
I’m sorry for stealing half a bag of off-brand Mexican Cheeze-Kurls last Friday when my sister and I were shopping for school supplies that only your bargain-basement prices can put into my unemployable price-range. It is not in my nature to steal, or commit any crimes, especially when I know that the 99c jumbo bag’s sale would have pushed your margins into the black. I do not offer any excuses for my behaviour other than an explanation.
There was this old woman. Who was wearing every article of clothing that she owned. And has probably been wearing them non-stop since she had her be-mulleted grandson tip over one of those “clothe the homeless” boxes that seem to be at every Home Depot and Christmastree Shop location in my home town. There was an aura about this woman that prevented myself and all but the most seasoned and gnarly sanitation workers from being being within four yards from her centre of mass.
This woman, in short, stunk.
Like rancid piss, death and Jagermeister.
She smelled worse than the overflowed septic systems I used to clean out when I was in high school. Worse than the mattress after a Rosie O’Donel/Oprah Winfrey/John Goodman 3-way sex party.
My sister and I made every attempt within human reason to avoid being overwhelmed by her death-blossom bouquet, however after several minutes not one square foot of the store remained viable and uncontaminated. Without any words, the decision was made to cut our shopping trip short, get on line, purchase the items in our cart and return at some future date, hoping that this was an incident rather than a common occurrence. Unfortunately the odoriferous woman got in line immediately before us. And I could cue myself up behind her.
In direct line of fire from her farts.
Which actually melted a pair of glasses.
My sister and I then walked into the snack aisle and debated our plan of action. At this point I must say that it is wholly my fault and responsibility for the theft of the half-bag of fake-cheese “flavoured” Styrofoam puff balls. She had nothing to do with it. Whatsoever. I left the store and she chased me out to force me to pay.
She should not bear any of the of the legal repercussions. She’s wracked with guilt about it as it is. She thought that the police that were chasing around the projects that your store is located in were actually after her. She’s a woman, so the logic of cost/risk/benefit relations escapes her and does not realise that the police would not even bother with that level of petty crime. Since we’re white, I mean.
In closing, please accept this as an apology as well as my redemption since it has taken me over twice as long to write this than the community service sentence would have taken. If I even went to trial.
Since I’d resist arrest. ‘Cause I ain’t goin’ back to jail. I’m too pretty in there. And prison-rape is not fun.
Last night my girlfriend and I Rickrolled an entire bar.
There was a girl there, looked about 15, 16. Basically too young to be there and she was putting all sorts of crappy music on the jukebox. She played some Elton John crap, then played “My Humps”, Last Kiss and all sorts of other crap. I can’t remember. I was drinking because it was SATURDAY.
And SATURDAY is drinking day.
Well, after listening to “Hey now, You’re an Allstar!….” or whatever that crappy song that made me vomit through out the “aughts” I got pissed off and took $5 outta my girlfriend’s purse (while she was in the bathroom ‘cause I’m classy and I a’int no scrub and not gonna ASK her for money. I’m not ghetto like that, son). I put that $5 in the jukebox and it bought me 7 plays. So I selected “Never Gonna Give You Up”. Seven Times.
That’s 25 minutes of Rick Astley. No fucking way could anyone stand that. So I left.
And made my girlfriend drive me back home for a conjugal visit.
I don’t care if they block me from that bar because they only have Bud and Magic Hat on tap. Magic Hat is ok, a little sweet for me but palatable (unlike Bud which tastes like that time that someone peed in a cup and put in roofies and then took my shoes while i was passed out and made me walk home in shame from the Jersey Street Projects).
Also, why is Bud ever on tap? It seems to me to be a waste. Both of time and space. If I had a bar I probably wouldn’t even have Bud. At all. And if you ordered it I’d kick you out ‘cause I don’t want your money that bad. You’re probably a douche wearing an Ed Hardey shirt and I’d rather wear a jockstrap full of scorpions rather than anything that that Twatwaffle scribbles on a shitty silkscreen.
Anyway here’s some links to the video…
