I shave my chest and no, I’m not proud of it. I don’t do it for sexy reasons, because I’m a ripped bro at the gym, or even to make myself more aerodynamic for breaking land-speed records. I do it because I have weird chest hair. It’s like my nips have eyebrows, very angry eyebrows. So I figure I have three options here with my body coverings. Run around looking like a weirdo with terrible chest hair, Shave it off and look like a cool chubby baby, or get a full torso tattoo of Spock’s face. Obviously the latter is the coolest choice of all but a bit pricey. Imagine it though, instead of looking like a dummy while I strut around parties/men’s locker rooms with my shirt off. I would be the coolest guy there, the guy with Leonard Nemoy on his chest, with actual fuzzy eyebrows you can pet, eyeballs that can cut glass, and a belly button that can talk but only says, “Live long, and don’t put your finger in here!”
After driving around in West Virginia for what seems like days that never end. Here is my best guess at the top industries in the Ole’ bluegra… hillbill.. southish… mountains.. state.
1. Coal Mining
3. Meth production/ distribution
4. Moonshining (Mooshinin’)
5. Staring down strangers from your front porch as they drive by.
7. Gun Hoarder
8. Publication Author (Anti-government propaganda)
9. Production of “Get off my property!” signs
11. Following/ tailing strangers in a lifted pick up truck
13. Chasing strangers through wooded areas only to tie them up and leave them for dead
14. Civil Engineering
I recently got back from a trip to Chicago with my girlfriend. While it was super fine the big cit can be very confusing to a rube from Ohio like me. Apparently I can’t even drive on a toll road correctly. There were spots to pull over and pay a toll every few miles or you could keep driving straight, so I thought what idiot is going to pull over and pay!?! I guess an idiot that doesn’t want a $120 ticket in the mail 3 weeks after their trip. It was like a nice little reminder of our trip saying, “Hey, glad you came to stay. BTW you owe me money you country bumpkin.
I’ve been peeing in bars for years and have become accustomed to some of the most vile things written on bathroom walls. So now the off-putting thing is to see something congratulatory written on the wall like the picture below. What would compel someone underneath a giant drawing of a dick and some writing that says “If you have a dick I’ll suck it!” to feel the need to congratulate their buddy. I can only assume that he wasn’t even invited to the wedding as this is in a dirty dive bar basement, probably not allowed near the family after that one time he got too drunk, took off his pants and accidentally set fire to their home.
Also what was the best day of his life!?! I’m never going to track down D.C. and find out but COME ON MAN! I got to know! Don’t bury the lead here D.
I have a dream. A dream where we are not separated by our genders. No more separate but equal bathrooms. We can all pee together in harmony. I mean it’s 2014 right? We need separate bathrooms for pee’s and poops. A #1 and and #2 are not the same and should be treated as such. Never again shall Splashers and Ploppers have to share the same room. I’m tired of living in a world where a quick pee at the bar can lead to an awkward encounter of me listening to some bathroom tyrant squeezing out last nights dinner and come out of the stall staring me straight in the eyes like some kind of psychopath.
Even the workplace has become affected. I don’t want to know Greg in accounting screams a little when he makes poos, may not have had curry recently, and for sure doesn’t wash his hands afterwards. HEY GREG It’s not that hard to keep yourself regular outside of work hours. Maybe try a fiber bar for lunch instead of half a pizza and chocolate pudding everyday. NO NO don’t come over here, stay at your freaking desk and away from mine. I’ll email you if I need anything and for sure don’t touch my stuff. I don’t need your butt bits on my Carlos Baerga bobblehead!
Listen people I’m not a monster. I understand there are emergency deuces. And if we aren’t going to separate the bathrooms at least do what I do and if someone else comes in the room hide in the stall quietly with your feet up and wait for the coast to clear like a normal person. Then as you leave the bathroom, the first person you see, loudly declare, “Good luck! Some asshole really stunk it up in there!”
Well I feel good about myself. Write your local congressman or whatever.
I’ve been stuck inside through this horrible winter. It feels like I don’t do anything exciting anymore besides of course staring out the window and then refusing to put on pants the rest of the day because you know who cares anymore.It’s even gotten to affect my dreams. The other day I literally had a dream where I was standing at a deli counter in a grocery store tasting different meats. Then the guy behind the counter said they were something absurd like they were $11.99 a pound and that was it, I woke up. You can literally do anything you can imagine in your dreams. You could command a pirate ship, take a bit out of the moon or some shit, maybe even have sex with a pirate ( I’m very into pirates right now ;) ) Instead I’m waking up sweating in the middle of the night yelling,” That goddamn pastrami was way over priced!”
I sure hope spring is soon because I think I need some fresh air.
If there is one thing I am good at it is drinking. If there are two things I’m good at it’s drinking and lying. And when they come together it’s a lot of fun… for me, probably not the people around me. If I’ve had a few drinks and am meeting new people it might be my favorite thing on this twirling rock to make up stories about myself and see what I can get away with. Even sometimes talking in an accent to either throw them off or to see if I can pull it off, I’m not even really sure which one.
Now that you know that about me awhile back after getting drunk with a buddy of mine and watching College Basketball…. (it’s large college men putting a ball through a hoop for points.) we went out to a bar. At this bar we ran into a group of girls and one particularly annoying one started talking to me. At this time as well I noticed my buddy was drunk and was not talking to anyone. So I started talking about how depressed he was because his mom died her and that we were both doctors and he needed cheering up. Hopefully that she would leave me alone and try to comfort him. It didn’t work. At the end of the night she asked for my number and in a drunken haze I had a stroke of genius. I gave her his number instead of mine. As we were leaving he was depressed that he didn’t get a girls phone number but I told him it will all work out.
A few days go by and he starts talking to me that a girl has been texting him and they decided to go out on a date. After said date I get messages from him saying, “What did you do!?!” and to my delight when he showed up on the date she thought I was texting her the whole time and was expecting to go on a date with me not
Hank my friend.
Not to my delight though they ended up liking each other and agreed to go on more dates. Long story short I was in their wedding this past summer thinking holy shit did I ruin this guys life? I mean he seems to like so I guess it all worked out…. right?
God I hope he never reads this I mean I’m disgusted sad happy for him.