Since classes just started, this is my second Bachelor Pad night of the year. Here is a recap of my first two.

BACHELOR PAD NIGHT #1

Last week my bachelor pad night started strong. I picked up some dinner and when I got home I was planning on watching Moneyball. Ultimate dude stuff… just as long as the fact that my dinner was generic frosted flakes is overlooked.

I got home and start preparing my mandinner when, out of nowhere, the largest cockroach that’s ever lived on this planet darts across the counter and into my sink. I’m sure you’re thinking, ‘You’re in New York now. This must be common place.’ It’s not. This was my fist cockroach, and he was the size of my fourth-grade music teacher. So, as any mature adult in this situation would do, I starting screaming profanities, all the while trying to trap this gigantic bastard under a plastic cup as he scattered quickly around the sink. While I ended up breaking the cup, I did not end up breaking the cockroach. He swiftly climbed out of the sink (which in itself is repulsive) and jumped to the floor. There he took immediate shelter under the small ledge between our floor and counter.

He stood still at that point. So did I. It was your classic Brooklyn standoff. Now what? I knew I had to kill it, and to avoid the years of therapy that I would need if I got a napkin and felt this midget crunch in my hands, I decided to put a shoe on and stomp the hell out of it. Unfortunately his positioning under my ledge made it impossible to tell where he was when I approached him, and after stomping hard on the area where he originally was, I came to find out that he escaped. Where he went, I’m not sure. But he was gone.

I went to the living room to go over my options.

Option 1: I could just leave the apartment and come back the day that we moved out, which at the earliest would be the summer of 2013. But I could find stuff to do until then. It’s the city that never sleeps.

Option 2: I could call the police and they could take care of it. NYPD doesn’t have that much to do, especially at night.

Option 3: I could call the landlord to come over and kill it. He’s a tough bald Russian guy, so it wouldn’t be embarrassing at all.

Pretty soon it became clear that my best play was to get some roach spray and douche my apartment in it. So that’s what I did. I got some Raid, sprayed the kitchen, living room, bedroom, bathroom, my body, my throat, all of the girlfriends jewelry and perfumes, and every piece of fruit we had (I’m kidding… we don’t have fruit). I bugproofed the apartment, and all it took was a $10 bottle of raid and 17 years off of my life expectancy after breathing in an abundance of toxic roach spray.

After that was done, I sat in the livingroom scared to death of the kitchen, and refused to get up and walk around in fear that the huge bastard would be around the corner looking to wrestle. BACHELOR PAD!

BACHELOR PAD NIGHT #2

Fast forward to this week and here I am. It’s Tuesday night. Bachelor pad night. I’m a 30 year-old man trying to relax after a hard days work, and I can do whatever I want. That being said, what was I doing before I starting blogging about how depressing my Bachelor Pad evenings are? What was I doing the one night where I am allowed to do whatever I want to in my apartment? Laying on my couch, wearing my pajamas at 7 pm (6 pm cst), eating Valentine’s Day heart candy, which is my desert after a hearty dinner of Capt’n Crunch Berries, and watching the second season of Lifetime’s breakout reality show Dance Moms.

not a joke

BACHELOR PAD!

When I was a kid, I loved the Bubbles joke. Here it is, in its entirety:

Wanna hear a dirty joke? A kid fell in the mud.

Wanna hear a clean joke? The kid took a bath with Bubbles.

Wanna hear a dirty joke? Bubbles was the girl next door.

I laughed hard at that joke as a kid, way before I understood what it meant. Until I was nine I thought that his next door neighbor was literally a bunch of bubbles, and the thought of having a female neighbor who is made up of bubbles was completely hilarious to five-year-old Sean. Thirty-year-old Sean finds that notion pretty humorous also, but he has concerning adult questions about a female made up entirely of bubbles, such as how this bubble woman would be able afford life insurance since she can seriously go at any time, and what popping her che… forget it.

It seems like back when I was growing up, dirty jokes were fewer and far between. Don’t get me wrong, I heard my fair share. But they seemed more rare than they are today. Maybe it’s because adults back then kept them out of earshot from kids. I doubt that though. It was the 80s. The adults were too preoccupied with trying to keep their mustaches out of their mouths and their cocaine habits a secret to worry about kids hearing a joke with the word ‘boobs’ in it.

Now every joke I hear is a dirty joke. Maybe not so much in that it involves sexual content, but in that it is something that should not be repeated in public, at a job interview, or to anyone associated with the church. If someone above the age of 10 but under the age of 70 tells me a clean joke, I just stare at them, waiting for the word ‘balls’ to come out of their mouth. Then I tell them the one about the Russian who went to the strip club covered in poo.

(That’s not a real joke… but I really wish it was. If you can think of a punchline, please email it to seanssabbatical@gmail.com. Make the subject of the email, “Punchline for the joke about the Russian covered in poo going to the strip club”)

Because it was a rare treat to hear these types of jokes when I was growing up, to this day nothing makes me laugh more than cuss words and jokes about wieners, which is probably why I enjoy South Park so much.

Monday, January 2: Just got a full-years membership to the gym! They offered shorter memberships, but I won’t need it! This is the year! I know I said that last year, but I got that hip injury in early January after bowling and didn’t want to cause any permanent damage, so I had to stop working out. But now I have a whole year ahead of me and my hip feels fantastic. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday I’m going to spend most of my time working on my triceps, biceps, and abs, with a little cardio afterwards. Tuesday and Thursday will be purely cardio, with maybe maybe other leg exercises also, but I don’t want to start out with too much. That’s what idiots do, and they don’t even make it to February.

My goal is 20 pounds. I’m hoping for more than that, but since I’ll be putting on some massive muscle it might make the weight loss more difficult. That’s what always happens on Celebrity Fit Club. So excited, tomorrows the day!

Tuesday, January 3: First day went great! Worked hard on my lats, triceps, biceps, abs, and did twenty minutes on the elliptical machine. The trainer there said I should take it easy, but here I am a few hours later and I’m not even sore! I gave the trainer the middle finger behind his back and he may have seen me because of the mirrors, but he didn’t say anything. Doesn’t matter, he seems like a dick. Not sure why I didn’t start working out sooner!

Wednesday, January 4: Pretty sore today. Had to call into work because I couldn’t lift up my arms to put my shirt on. I probably didn’t stretch right. My legs ache too, so I think I’ll skip my cardio exercises today and pick it up tomorrow.

Thursday, January 5: Went back to work and to the gym. Took it easier this time so as not to overexert myself. Did 5 minutes on the elliptical and then called it a day after farting out loud during my ab workout. Figured I’d just do sit-ups when I got to my apartment, but my wooden floor looks like it is covered in my roommate Fred’s hair and I don’t think I should be the one to sweep it up. I don’t care if he’s going through chemotherapy, he still needs to be considerate.

Friday, January 6: Friday! Was going to go to the gym, but Fred is having a birthday bash at Legends tonight at 6. I could’ve showed up late, but I didn’t want to be the only sober one there. Gonna go hard tonight. I earned it!

Monday, January 9: Drank all weekend. Fred said were not friends anymore. Not sure what happened, but I’m way too hungover to workout. I’ll go tomorrow. I’ll need some greasy food at lunch to get over this hangover, which means I need to go real hard tomorrow. NO EXCEPTIONS!

Tuesday, January 10: The greasy food I had yesterday gave me ridiculous diarrhea. I got to the gym parking lot, but I had to speed off to McDonalds to use their bathroom. Decided to just get some food there and call it a day. Tomorrow for sure.

Wednesday, January 11:  Did lats and biceps today. Also 4 minutes on the elliptical. I think two younger girls were  laughing at me. They may have heard me fart last week. I left just in case.

Thursday, January 12: I was going to do some elliptical today, but a guy I work with says it’s not that effective. He said doing the treadmill is way better for you. I’m pretty set in my workout routine and am hesitant to add a whole new exercise to it. I’ll just stop doing the elliptical and maybe pick up the treadmill in February. I’m probably good without both though.

Friday, January 13: Thought I forgot my gym clothes at home, so I didn’t workout. My gym bag was in my trunk, and I actually remembered that before lunch, but by then I had already gotten used to the idea of not going to the gym. I went out instead after work. I saw Fred at Wild Willy’s. Apparently I tried making out with his sister at his birthday party. I don’t remember that at all. He’s such a prude. He needs to realize that even though his sister is mentally “slow”, she is a sexual human being like the rest of us.

Monday, January 16th: Went to the gym. When I was putting on my workout clothes an old Chinese man caught me staring at his genitals. As soon as he went to the shower I got my stuff and went home.

Tuesday, January 17th: Decided to skip today just in case that Chinese man is there. Plus those girls who think I farted were there last Tuesday.

Wednesday, January 18th: Looking back on my journal I see that those girls were there on a Wednesday, so I decided to just go home to avoid them. I’ll go real hard tomorrow though. I have to. This is the year!

Thursday, January 19th: Did about three minutes of arms before I got bored and decided to split. They seriously need to play something better than King of Queens on their TV’s.

Friday, January 20th: I hadn’t worked out on a Friday yet and didn’t want to break my body cycle, so I went out. Total binger. I ate two whole pizzas around midnight on a dare. I puked pretty heavily afterwards, so most of the carbs are probably gone. Monday I’ll get back into the swing of things.

Monday, January 23rd: Spent all day at work online trying to see if I can get some of my membership deposit back. It’s really not a good gym, and their clientele makes me feel uncomfortable. I’d be more motivated to go if there weren’t so many freaks there, but because everyone is so weird there I never want to go. It looks like membership is probably non-refundable. I hope not. Tonight is $1 wings and free darts over at Suheys, so I’ll go there tomorrow and find out.

Tuesday, January 24th: One of the personal trainers told me to ‘eat shit and die’ after I called her gym a Nazi training facility. They refused to refund even a portion of my money! How is that fair?!?!? When she told me that my contract states that I cannot get a refund for the year I told her she was a smelly bitch and then made the Nazi comment. I was escorted out and told I wasn’t allowed to come back. Since I didn’t get my money back and I’m running low on funds, I’ll have to wait until next year to get another gym membership. That’ll be good though. I’ll come in with a real strong head of steam. Next year is the year!

“Revenge is a dish best served cold.” – Old Klingon Proverb

Below are some quotes that I would have chosen to appear before the start of some of the most celebrated movies in cinematic history.

Look Who’s Talking

“The most merciful thing that a family does to one of its infant members is to kill it.” – Margaret Sanger

Doubt

“Women need a reason to have sex. Men just need a place.” – Billy Crystal

Mask

“It is better to be beautiful than to be good, but it is better to be good than to be ugly.” – Oscar Wilde

Downfall

“You can only be young once. But you can always be immature.” – Dave Barry

Selena

“No matter how good she looks – no matter how sweet she talks – somebody, somewhere is sick and tired of putting up with her shit.” – Anonymous

The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants

“Feminism is a socialist, anti-family, political movement that encourages women to leave their husbands, kill their children, practice witchcraft, destroy capitalism and and become lesbians.” – Pat Robertson

Look Who’s Talking Now!

“A man can have sex with animals such as sheeps, cows, camels and so on. However, he should kill the animal after he has his orgasm.” – Ayatollah Khomeini

It’s been a long, long time since I last posted a blog. So long in fact that it took me a day of sorting through old emails just to figure out my username and password to log onto the site. I’m ashamed. I’ve been as absent as Patrick Swayze’s pancreas donor. It won’t happen again.

As many of you may know, a big reason for my neglectfulness of seanssabbatical is that I moved to Brooklyn. After spending over two blissful years in Roselle, Il, we packed up our things and moved to the land that Forbes Magazine labeled “The Exact Opposite of Roselle, Illinois.” The planning, the apartment hunt, the job search… all of these things made it difficult to keep up with blogging. But those days are behind me. Mama’s home.

I have been asked by many people about what it is like in New York City. While I think there are many similarities to the city of Chicago, here are a few things that I’ve noticed during my first three weeks in the Gigantic Apple.

More Things Smell Like Pee

Don’t get me wrong… there were many times that I was downtown Chicago and got a whiff of some prime homeless man’s urine. But apparently the homeless here have bladder infections, because the pee smell is everywhere you go. New York is like being in a living room the morning after a third grade slumber party, but without a stained sleeping bag it’s harder to figure out who peed.

Accents Aren’t Always Sexy

Thick New York accents are funny, but they’re not sexy. I’ll giggle when I hear a New York accent because they’re so foreign to me… but the other day I heard a woman scream, “Come ahhhhhnn, get a fagggin hit Jeeetah!” during a Yankees game and it almost turned me gay.

The Term “Go Fuck Yourself” Gets Thrown Around More Frequently

I’ve heard this used multiple times from people around me who are describing past conversations they’ve had, and sometimes they use it very haphazardly.

For example, today I walked by two girls and overheard one say, “then he tells me that I don’t look Romanian, so I told him ‘go fuck yourself!’” That confused me. Granted, I only caught a portion of their conversation, but is that really an appropriate ‘go fuck yourself’ moment? Maybe I don’t know much about Romanians, but I’ve never heard that they are extraordinarily good looking or notoriously hideous. If someone told me that I didn’t look Romanian, I’d  respond, “oh… who does?” I guess I just don’t know what Romanians look like.

Romanian?

]]> http://seanssabbatical.com/its-been-a-long-long-time/feed 1 http://seanssabbatical.com/the-article-reply http://seanssabbatical.com/the-article-reply#comments Wed, 08 Jun 2011 14:53:20 +0000 Sean Patrick http://seanssabbatical.com/?p=3432

The Article Reply. A way for every semi-literate web fanatic to express their opinions on any news story that gets posted on the internet.

Unlike the newspaper where it takes a reasonable response and approval by an editor to get your comment published, replying to a story on the internet is as easy as typing a confusingly racist comment and clicking  ’Post.’ When I read articles on Yahoo or CNN, I typically get through about 1/4^th of the article and then go straight to the comment section. It’s probably why I really only know 1/4th of whats going on in America. But I just can’t wait. The comments are easily the most entertaining part of the piece. And I’ve noticed that there are always three comment-types per article, regardless of what the content of the story is. Here is an example of the type of comments you will see on every online article you encounter.

Two Popular Chimpanzees Kiss!

By CBS Chicago

Jobin and Tina, two chimpanzees who have been attractions at the Brookfield Zo for over a decade, were the recipients of a huge round of applause from onlookers last week when they were spotted kissing each other.

Jobin, a 15-year-old male, and Tina, a 13-year-old female, are long-time friends dating back to 2007. However, this is the first time they have been spotted kissing each other.

“It came out of the blue!” said trainer Phyllis Schamp. “I’ve been around them for years and they’ve always been playful, but not this playful!”  

Jobin and Tina kissed three times in front of the excited crowd, each time getting a louder applause than the last. Since then they have also been seen holding hands and hugging, all to the delight of their trainers and fans. – AP

3 Comments

SeriousDanger5 – Wow, Yahoo! Way to spell! Brookfield Zo? Don’t you mean Zoo? My god, what is wrong with you? It’s called SpellCheck! You and your editors should all be fired. 6/7/11 12:39 pm EST

I love the person who gets extremely worked up over a spelling error. He’s so mad that he’ll take the time to create a username and password in order to tell whoever wrote the article how dumb they are. By putting so much effort into this, not only has he has revealed that he’s unemployed, but he also exposed that the reason he is unemployed is because he is an asshole who lets stupid things like spelling errors drive him insane. Most likely his last job was at Blockbuster, but he quit because he felt that having the Employees Favorites section in the middle of the New Releases section completely threw off the alphabetical order of the whole wall and emotionally he couldn’t take it. What I like most about this kind of post is that I know that the person who posted it probably spent an extensive amount of time making sure that he didn’t make any spelling errors that would make him look stupid.

 Unreal4 – Wow! It’s good to know that during a recession our reporters have time to keep us informed about this crap! Seriously?!? With gas prices what they are and the unemployment rate near 9%, this is what you’re writing about? Stupid chimps? Ridiculous. 6/7/11 12:42 pm EST

This is the person who thinks that the only thing that should be reported on is how terrible the world is. But this guy doesn’t understand the concept of a 24-hour news cycle. There’s only so much devastation that be reported on until a story about two horny chimps gets some attention. If the guy only wants to hear about how much everything sucks, he should go to Nancy Grace for his news. In her world, the only thing going on in this country is that little innocent caucasian kids are being molested. Watching Nancy Grace is like getting a play by play account on what was going on in the Neverland Ranch during the 90s. And as much as she likes to pretend that Caylee Anthony’s death infuriates her, it’s the only thing she has had to report on for the last three years, making her job as easy as a gym teacher’s.

 ForRealGrl77 – I love chimps! They are so cute!!!! 6/7/11 12:46 pm EST

           HoneyPot7 – Chimps suck. Gorillas are way better. 6/7/11 12:47 EST

 Uh oh… is this what I think it is?

           ForRealGrl77 – Are you nuts? 6/7/11 12:49 EST

I think it is!!!

              HoneyPot7 – F*** you, slut! You’re nuts! 6/7/11 12:59 EST

POST FIGHT!!!!!!

I love the anger that goes into a good Post Fight. What starts out as comment about how much you love chimps ends with a stranger claiming that your great-grandfather had defective sperm. No matter what the subject matter is people are willing to fight online about it.  I’m guilty of it. If someone posts that Jurassic Park 2 is better than the original on a movie website, I have no problem calling them an impotent Nazi.*

*Sorry DinoKid11, I get very passionate about the quality of the Jurassic Park movies after a few glasses of wine. Good luck in middle school.

Answer: The homeless woman is Bill Gates.

Riddle: Two lifelong best friends, who have hung out together since they were very young, are taking a road trip across the country. Now 23 and 24, both friends are out of college and have full-time jobs. At a rest stop, the 24-year-old friend says to the 23-year-old friend, “I can’t hold this in any longer. You’re my son.” How is this possible?

Answer: The 23-year-old friend’s mom had sex with a 3-month-old 22 years and 9 months earlier.

Riddle: A little boy is in 1st grade, and to his surprise he gets a 100% on his spelling test. Thinking that he got the best score possible, he goes to the front of the class and makes fun of everyone because finally no one did better than him. When he is done with his rant, which includes him mooning his classmates and calling his teacher the c-word, he sits back down. His teacher then stands up and says, “It’s not true that no one did better than you.” How is this possible?

Answer: One of his classmates got a 103% on the test because the teacher is having an affair with the student’s father.

Riddle: A man, who has been training for months, runs the New York City Marathon is just under 3 hours. Being his personal best, the man decides to celebrate by going to see a Broadway show that night. After a lot of thought, the man decides to see Billy Elliot. He goes, enjoys himself, returns to his hotel and falls asleep. The next day a maid at the hotel finds him dead. How is this possible?

Answer: The man had AIDS.

Riddle: A deer is lying dead at the side of the road. A man sees the deer as he drives by, and hoping to be able to tell his friends that he shot it, he turns his car around and goes back to where he saw the deer. When he gets there, the deer is no longer there. How is this possible?

Answer: The deer wasn’t a deer at all… it was Bill Gates in a deer costume taking a nap by the side of the road. He woke up right after the car passed him and walked home.

Riddle: A woman is auditioning for a play. She is asked to sing her favorite song, and when she does the man who is holding the audition loves her. He tells her that she is going to be a big star and that even though there was still one more audition that day, she would be picked as the lead. The woman is ecstatic and runs home to tell her family. The next day she checks the cast, and to her astonishment she was not picked as the lead. How is this possible?

Answer: A woman with bigger boobs auditioned right after her.

Riddle: While crossing the street, an old man is struck by a car. While being rushed to a hospital, the old man dies. 4 days later at his funeral, the woman who was driving the car shows up. When the wife of the old man asks who she is, she says, “I am this man’s daughter.” How is this possible?

Answer: The old man was the driver’s father, and her mother didn’t initially recognize her because her makeup made her look like a prostitute.

Riddle: A lightning bolt hits a man while he is out golfing.

Answer: Is that a riddle?

Riddle: A baseball team goes over 100 years without winning the World Series. Currently there are 30 teams in the majors, meaning that statistically, even though there were far fewer teams in the majors 100-years-ago, this team at the very least should have won a World Series at least 3 times over the last century. But they haven’t. They’ve won 0. How is this possible?

Answer: There is no god.

When I decided to make Hans-Rudolf Merz this websites’ biggest enemy, I wasn’t aware of two things:

1) People actually hate him, and

2) I would grow to love him.

People seriously despise Hans-Rudolf Merz, and even though his haters are mostly Swiss, it still counts (sort of). That defeats the entire purpose of making him this websites enemy. The reason I picked Hansey as a foe was because the head of the Federal Department of Finance in Switzerland was the most random public figure I could think of to have a rivalry with. But I’ve come to find out that there’s an entire movement against this köngud (that’s Swiss for Sex God). There’s even an Anti-Hans-Rudolf Merz Facebook group! When did Switzerland get Facebook? I’m going to have to update my security settings. 

The Swiss have nothing to be mad about. They haven’t been to a war since 1815. We just entered two wars in the time that it took me to write that last sentence (you’re going down Virgin Islands!!!). And not only is Switzerland one of the richest countries in the world, but it also has the highest wealth per adult out of any country. Why would you hate  the head of the Federal Department of Finance when you have the wealthiest adults on earth? Are you mad that he’s too awesome at his job? Even the average Swiss toddler makes more money per year than Italian men.*

Hearing that others distrust Hans-Rudolf Merz took all the fun out of it. It even made me feel bad for him. And once I found this video of Hansey cracking up during a speech about spiced meats…

… my hatred diffused like a fart in an airplane.

That’s why this website no longer distrusts Hans-Rudolf Merz. Instead, seanssabbatical supports the life and work of Mr. Hans-Rudolf Merz and has declared so in the upper left-hand corner of the site. 

I know what you’re thinking…

Is Sean growing soft?

Is the website going to lose its edge?

Is seanssabbatical really not going to have an enemy?

Put your worries aside. Just because Hans is my new BFF doesn’t mean that I haven’t found someone to loathe. I’ve looked high and low and eventually found a person who stands for everything I hate. 

This waste of space is none other than…

Former Lithuanian Pop Sensation Linas Adomaitis!

There’s more to come on this asshole soon…

*statistic courtesy of www.seanssabbatical.com

Get out. We’ve done enough to the Asians.  

On Canada’s Involvement in the Conflict with Libya

Canada’s fighting someone? Come on, you’re going to make me pee my pants. 

On the Birthplace of President Barack Obama

I don’t think it’s possible that Obama was born in Hawaii. Why? Because there are no hospitals in Hawaii. It’s a fact. I’ve watched every episode of Dog the Bounty Hunter and they spend quite a bit of time in our fiftieth state. Wait, is Hawaii the fiftieth state? Or is that California? I guess it doesn’t matter. Anyways, Dog has never once gone to a hospital in Hawaii during an episode, and that’s because the state only has beaches, jails, and adult book stores. The question you should be asking is not if the president was born in Hawaii, but if anyone has ever been born in Hawaii. And the answer to that is no. 

On Where the President Barack Obama was Really Born

8 Mile.

On America’s Struggle with Obesity

Just watch Nutty Professor and realize how hilarious of a disease obesity can be. Then watch Philadelphia so you can realize how hilarious AIDS can be. 

About How to Decrease the Deficit

Steal money from Canada and blame it on Mexico. 

Today I received what I consider to be my first fan letter. A woman whom I’ve never met read one of my old articles from back in 2009 and took the time to write me her thoughts on it. The post she stumbled upon was one where I pitched a morning talk show called “Sean Milna-HO! and the Early Morning Dingleberries.”

http://seanssabbatical.com/my-morning-radio-show-pitch

In it I describe myself as a shock jock, and I introduce the reader to the other people on my talk show known as The Dingleberries. The Dingleberries consist of Eileen, a 26-year-old attractive coed from Nebraska, Phil the Gross, a 33-year-old Asian with elephantitis of the face, Sleepy Susie, a 22-year-old in an induced coma, and Fred Durst, a douche. Together we make the most out of control group of misfits the radio has ever heard.

My new fan found this particular post and was very enthusiastic about my picture of Phil the Gross.

Phil the Gross

Here is what she sent me:

“Wtf is wrong with you! I mean really, you think it’s funny to post a picture of someone that had a tumor in their face and then clearly state a lie about that young man. What if that was you sir, ma’am, what ever you are. You’re a pack animal and feast on peoples pain, what ails you? You must not have anything better to do with your time then to create stories about others.”

Receiving a fan letter is both humbling and overwhelming. This particular fan letter is typical: full of compliments and questions. And because I want to be as fan friendly as possible, I am going to respond to every question and compliment that was given to me by my new fan…

A Response to my First Fan Letter

Wtf is wrong with you! I mean really,

Although I believe that this is a personal question reserved for psychiatrists and first-time sexual partners, because this is a special occasion I will answer it: 

Butt lice, extra nipples (seven), back-penis, nose hair that smells like farts, and dandruff plagued eyelashes.

you think it’s funny to post a picture of someone that had a tumor in their face and then clearly state a lie about that young man.

I’m sorry,  I don’t mean to be that guy, but you’ve asked two questions so far and have used zero question marks. But I digress. The short answer to your question is yes, I do think it’s funny to post a picture of someone that had a tumor in their face and then clearly state a lie about that young man. But let me ask you a question: what exactly gives you the impression that this person is young? Is it his haircut? Or is it because you don’t think that someone in his condition could live a long life? If that’s the case, I’m slightly repulsed by your generalization. 

What if that was you

Again, I’m really sorry, but I’ve yet to see a question mark. While tumor humor (rhyme!) doesn’t offend me, incorrect punctuation does (this excludes the incorrect use of colons and semi-colons since I don’t know how to use either). Please end each question with the proper typographical symbol. 

In regards to your inquiry, I feel that since I still get occasional pimple at the age of 29, I can fully relate to someone who has unwanted extra skin on their face. You think he has it bad? I went to a New Year’s party at the age of 27 with a huge zit on my forehead. So I don’t have to ponder ‘what if’ I was this person because in a sense, I am this person. Only I have a much more adult haircut. 

 sir, ma’am, what ever you are.

I don’t know either.

You’re a pack animal and feast on peoples pain,

This is by far the most masculine thing anyone has ever said about me. It makes me feel like some sort of wild boar. Thank you.

It has also easily beaten out “Aint no Holla Back Girl” when it comes to what I want etched on my gravestone. 

what ails you?

There’s that question mark! I was beginning to worry that your keyboard didn’t have one. 

As to what ails me, I would have to say butt lice, extra nipples (seven), back-penis, nose hair that smells like farts, and dandruff plagued eyelashes.

You must not have anything better to do with your time then to create stories about others.

I heard that. In fact, I devoted an entire year of my life to this practice. But now because I’m working again I’m only able to do this every once in a while, and find the inspiration to do so when I receive angry letters from strangers who have an odd sensitivity for tumor jokes.

**This website was created to entertain, not offend. If the persons whose picture I used in my post is offended or hurt by my words, I will gladly remove it from this site. Luckily I wont have to because in all likelihood he’s dead**

R.I.P.