"I'm Mark from Rent. No, not Harry Potter. The straight guy in Rent. Oh. Yes I'm sure."
"Wait, this whip actually works?"
"No you can't--what are you--fine, put frosting on my forehead."
"It's fantastic to see you too. And by that I mean I treasured every minute since we last saw each other yesterday. Yes that was an insult. Yes you're drunk."
"The frosting looks stupid? How stupid?"
"No, not Harry Potter. Guy from Rent."
"Don't care if all he had to do was pay for that costume. I wanna be the marshmallow man."
"Why is it only the ugly girls that ever talk to me?"
"I'm not Harry Potter. Yeah apparently no one's ever watched Rent. Fuck the nineties."
"How does wearing a tape costume constitute being an iPod?"
"Does this frosting ever come off?"
"Does beer pong ever get exciting?"
"I'm putting the candy on my crotch 'cause that's the most action I'm gonna get tonight."
"I wish my ceiling leaked so I could talk to the girls upstairs in the shower."
"Yeah it has been too long! Of course I'd love to hang some time. No I'm not going to make a conscious effort."
"Yep. Boy who lived."
"Was he drunk or high?"
"No no, the line is 'Could talk the federation into maybe cutting them a little Slack/But their response, it didn't thrill us/They locked the doors and tried to kill us'"
"This song reminds me of that girl from the Dominican Republic vacation. Yeah, she was way hotter than you'll ever be."
"I'm not playing an imaginary game about disarming bombs in seven girl's vaginas. You're a moron."
"Should've dressed up as a retarded person."
"Maybe the girl in the black wants to get some candy."
"So claustrophobic. So... claustrophobic."
"High school party, senior year, boys and girls are all sippin' on beer, I like soda, where's the soda, am I the only fucking person here that likes soda?"
"Yeah you kill someone first, I'll go second."
"Another conversation. Another ugly girl."
"I do not wish I was wearing your costume, thanks for asking."
"Yeah, Wingardium Leviosa to you too."
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Friday, October 21, 2011
Anonymous Feedback
Y'know, Anonymous, I think you're a good guy. You've lived a long time, written some good books, even solved a few crimes, but some of the things you say are just a crock of shit. Take this chestnut:
"Any piece of clothing can be sexy with a quietly passionate woman inside it." This just isn't true. Have you ever seen a girl wearing a zebra print snuggie? No matter how quietly passionate she is she's going to look like someone too dumb to put their shirt on right way round. Plus no one's ever going to make puke green dresses look good.
"Write a wise saying and your name will live forever." Yeah that worked out great for you didn't it?
"When you point your finger at someone, three fingers are pointing back at you." I once busted this one out for my Uncle Steve, then remembered that he lost his ring finger in 'Nam. Real insensitive Anonymous.
"Always imitate the behavior of the winners when you lose." Try doing a victory dance after the other team scores a touchdown in football. Your team is probably not going to leave you the ability to move more than one of your limbs at a time.
"Don't let yourself forget what it's like to be sixteen." Yeah god knows we need to remember what it was like to get our first acne breakout then be stood up at the Homecoming Dance by She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, finally get your license only to plow into your parents mailbox, and then get socks for your birthday because your parents are too cheap to get you anything else and "now that's you're old it's time to get practical, son." Yeah who cares I wanted more than two shirts and a tie for my goddamn birthday.
So please, Anonymous, spout spouting whatever comes to mind and actually think before you coin a phrase people will quote over and over until the end of time.
"Any piece of clothing can be sexy with a quietly passionate woman inside it." This just isn't true. Have you ever seen a girl wearing a zebra print snuggie? No matter how quietly passionate she is she's going to look like someone too dumb to put their shirt on right way round. Plus no one's ever going to make puke green dresses look good.
"Write a wise saying and your name will live forever." Yeah that worked out great for you didn't it?
"When you point your finger at someone, three fingers are pointing back at you." I once busted this one out for my Uncle Steve, then remembered that he lost his ring finger in 'Nam. Real insensitive Anonymous.
"Always imitate the behavior of the winners when you lose." Try doing a victory dance after the other team scores a touchdown in football. Your team is probably not going to leave you the ability to move more than one of your limbs at a time.
"Don't let yourself forget what it's like to be sixteen." Yeah god knows we need to remember what it was like to get our first acne breakout then be stood up at the Homecoming Dance by She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, finally get your license only to plow into your parents mailbox, and then get socks for your birthday because your parents are too cheap to get you anything else and "now that's you're old it's time to get practical, son." Yeah who cares I wanted more than two shirts and a tie for my goddamn birthday.
So please, Anonymous, spout spouting whatever comes to mind and actually think before you coin a phrase people will quote over and over until the end of time.
-M.
P.S. Fun fact Sarge: blog entries over a page long tend to be a sign of a man compensating for a lack of something "down there." Also, if your hands don't get wet during clitoral stimulation you're doing something wrong.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Things I Hate
What do I hate? Rhetorical questions. They're gay. And M's post. Screw the hyphen that comes before the M, 'cause know what I hate? Punctuation that doesn't belong. Like that hyphen. He's M. Enough said. Just took a nap. Do you care? Nope. I hate people that tell you what they just did. But guess what. I hate naps too. And I took one. And dreamt of sweet things. And then ATE sweet things. Is that post-modern? Don't give a shit. Think harder about it. It is.
I don't usually write like this 'cause I'm too busy being adorable and impressing the ladies. But that gets you nowhere, 'cause it's gay. We now take a moment to interrupt this terrible stream of consciousness to discuss that I am not homophobic. Lately, I've been saying things are "gay" pretty frequently, and I sometimes feel a little bad about it. Because personally, I have some sexual tendencies that fall outside the norm, and I'm not sure how I'd feel about people saying "that test gets turned on by penis-like clitorises." That could hurt, man. Maybe. Not sure if it'd hurt or not. But regardless, I'm not a hurter. I don't do the hurting thing. Except in the bedroom. Make me a martyr, bitch. That doesn't make sense 'cause I said I don't like doing when I do the hurting. Nothing to do with my sexual partner(s). Whatever. Post-modern.
Anyway, the reason I say that the douchebag who walked way too slowly to class was gay is because "gay," frankly, is a funny word. If I tell someone that the bitch-slut in my rhetoric class wouldn't shut up about her boyfriend and that it's "gaaaaaay" then that's funny for a variety of reasons (emphasis on the long "a" necessary, I'm not being a vagina like the eighteen-year-old girls who elongate the last letter of every word they type in a text, even if it's a consonant, which is gay). Part of it's ironic, sure. Pretty damn clever calling an act of overt heterosexuality gay. And then it's just a funny combination of letters. Kinda like cyanide. Or lactate. Or faggot.
Seriously though, I lived with two gay guys for six months. Loved every minute of it, would consider them two of my closest friends. And I would estimate that four out of every eleven girls that have a conversation with me wonder about my sexuality. And that's okay, 'cause gay is in these days. Just look at all the action Kurt gets on Glee. Nearly got the Jew-y chick. I like Jews, and I like chicks. So no drawbacks.
I hate bad blog post endings. So I'm not ending this now.
I hate people that walk too slowly. You already knew that. Pay the fuck attention.
I hate the hand dryers in the bathroom. Just give me my freaking paper towels. They've been around long enough and we still have enough trees. And you want to know what I really hate? No? Fine. Not telling you.
It's wet hands. My lovely, soft, angel-wing clitoral stimulation machines don't deserve the discomfort. This is my blog bitch, I'm telling you what I want you to hear. If you don't like it, go away. No no no, wait. Don't go away. We need the views, and I want to be internet famous.
'Cause I hate internet famous people. Ooh congratulations bastard, you won the lottery and millions of people have seen your video. Guess what. It's no better than any of the other ba-rillion people's stuff on YouTube. You just got lucky and society decided it was good. But it's not. And you know what else sucks? You only win the lottery once. May as well not sign up for Powerball anymore, 'cause you're never gonna win it. 'Cause your fifteen minutes of fame are over. Gone. Done. That sucks. If something with million-to-one odds happen to me, I hope I get some sick monetary gain out of it. Or true love.
I hate that I use so many adverbs. I'm really going to stop now.
Stopping now. I hate that joke.
Post-modern.
I don't usually write like this 'cause I'm too busy being adorable and impressing the ladies. But that gets you nowhere, 'cause it's gay. We now take a moment to interrupt this terrible stream of consciousness to discuss that I am not homophobic. Lately, I've been saying things are "gay" pretty frequently, and I sometimes feel a little bad about it. Because personally, I have some sexual tendencies that fall outside the norm, and I'm not sure how I'd feel about people saying "that test gets turned on by penis-like clitorises." That could hurt, man. Maybe. Not sure if it'd hurt or not. But regardless, I'm not a hurter. I don't do the hurting thing. Except in the bedroom. Make me a martyr, bitch. That doesn't make sense 'cause I said I don't like doing when I do the hurting. Nothing to do with my sexual partner(s). Whatever. Post-modern.
Anyway, the reason I say that the douchebag who walked way too slowly to class was gay is because "gay," frankly, is a funny word. If I tell someone that the bitch-slut in my rhetoric class wouldn't shut up about her boyfriend and that it's "gaaaaaay" then that's funny for a variety of reasons (emphasis on the long "a" necessary, I'm not being a vagina like the eighteen-year-old girls who elongate the last letter of every word they type in a text, even if it's a consonant, which is gay). Part of it's ironic, sure. Pretty damn clever calling an act of overt heterosexuality gay. And then it's just a funny combination of letters. Kinda like cyanide. Or lactate. Or faggot.
Seriously though, I lived with two gay guys for six months. Loved every minute of it, would consider them two of my closest friends. And I would estimate that four out of every eleven girls that have a conversation with me wonder about my sexuality. And that's okay, 'cause gay is in these days. Just look at all the action Kurt gets on Glee. Nearly got the Jew-y chick. I like Jews, and I like chicks. So no drawbacks.
I hate bad blog post endings. So I'm not ending this now.
I hate people that walk too slowly. You already knew that. Pay the fuck attention.
I hate the hand dryers in the bathroom. Just give me my freaking paper towels. They've been around long enough and we still have enough trees. And you want to know what I really hate? No? Fine. Not telling you.
It's wet hands. My lovely, soft, angel-wing clitoral stimulation machines don't deserve the discomfort. This is my blog bitch, I'm telling you what I want you to hear. If you don't like it, go away. No no no, wait. Don't go away. We need the views, and I want to be internet famous.
'Cause I hate internet famous people. Ooh congratulations bastard, you won the lottery and millions of people have seen your video. Guess what. It's no better than any of the other ba-rillion people's stuff on YouTube. You just got lucky and society decided it was good. But it's not. And you know what else sucks? You only win the lottery once. May as well not sign up for Powerball anymore, 'cause you're never gonna win it. 'Cause your fifteen minutes of fame are over. Gone. Done. That sucks. If something with million-to-one odds happen to me, I hope I get some sick monetary gain out of it. Or true love.
I hate that I use so many adverbs. I'm really going to stop now.
Stopping now. I hate that joke.
Post-modern.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Ron Paul won't win in 2012
There. If I've learned anything from my time online, it's that those six words magically summon legions of Ron Paul supporters, so that should increase my readership from 1 (me) to at least 1.1. How to defeat the world method 1: outright deception.
My friend and I are both third years in college (no, not juniors) and have been raised to think that our opinion matters probably more than it actually does. Thus it's absolutely critical to use this blog as a way to share whatever strikes us as particularly interesting with the world. Whether it's our philosophy, interesting tidbits of news, or just something super tasty we had for breakfast, it'll find its way up here and from there hopefully to the entire internet! Well, one can hope anyway.
Stay tuned for more insights and more tips on how to defeat the world we live in today.
My friend and I are both third years in college (no, not juniors) and have been raised to think that our opinion matters probably more than it actually does. Thus it's absolutely critical to use this blog as a way to share whatever strikes us as particularly interesting with the world. Whether it's our philosophy, interesting tidbits of news, or just something super tasty we had for breakfast, it'll find its way up here and from there hopefully to the entire internet! Well, one can hope anyway.
Stay tuned for more insights and more tips on how to defeat the world we live in today.
-M.
P.S. Ron Paul won't win, guys, just accept it. He may be the most ideologically coherent of the Republican candidates and have the most integrity by far but Americans aren't ready to end their empire.
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