Over two years after Canada hosted it’s 3rd Olympic games, the host countries most celebrated rapper is still salty over what he describes as the greatest injustice since Section 13(1) of the Canadian Human Rights Act (it states that it is discriminatory to communicate by phone or Internet any material “that is likely to expose a person or persons to hatred or contempt” (Canadian problems are adorable)).
“I should have been asked to take part in the opening ceremonies in Vancouver. They invited Wayne Gretzky, Steve Nash, and K.D. Lang, but no Snow? It’s whack! I’m still depressed about it. I’ve been a-licky-boom-boom down for the past two years.”
Snow sprung to stardom in 1993 with his hit single Informer, a song that made Caucasian-Canadian-Jamaican (was that Jamaican?) rap the newest craze. Informer not only taught privileged white kids in the early 90s to act like characters from Cool Runnings, but the song also helped an entire generation of Americans recognize that Canada is a real country. For those reasons, Snow felt that an Olympic Ceremony invite was guaranteed. He was sadly mistaken.
“They didn’t even have the decency to informer me that I wasn’t going to be a part of the festivities. How can they play Snow like that, mon? You know what I’m sayin, eh?”
Gregor Robinson, the mayor of the city of Vancouver, was unaware that the artist felt so slighted.
On Valentines Day, I got a text at 7:54 pm from an unknown number that read as follows:
‘Uhm do u mind going to the lab with me tomorrow?’
It’s the most romantic Valentine’s Day text I’ve ever gotten. Unfortunately I knew the truth. Some lucky person was sent an invitation to have a good time in in either a chemistry, film, or meth lab, and this lucky person wasn’t me. Whoever sent this text had the wrong number. Being a mature adult, I decided to ignore it, figuring that the sender would soon realize the error.
The next night, around the same time, I got another text from the same number. This time, the text had a riveting question:
‘You know what?’
I was curious. I replied:
‘What?’
Two minutes later, I got my answer.
‘You’re a little hoe bag.’
It seemed so odd. This person, whom I’d never met, seemed to know everything about me. I am a little hoe bag. I replied.
‘Oh, I know, right!?!’
Five minutes later she wrote back.
‘Lol jk you little SPUD (;’
And there it started. My first friendship entirely communicated through text message. I had a textmate. And I was her little spud (I was now figuring, after referring to me as a hoe bag and a SPUD, that my textmate was female).
I wasn’t sure when I would hear from my textmate again. It didn’t take long.
‘Tmdrtmdrtmdr! I have a lot of venting to do!‘ – 2/16/12, 6:49 am.
6:49….. A.M. And since this was from an 847 area code I assumed that this person was texting from a suburb of Chicago, meaning that she sent this at 5:49 A.M. Who the hell has the energy to vent at 5:49 A.M.? I was way too tired to gain the strength to text from my 1974 Motorola Razor Phone, so I ignored it and went back to sleep, thinking that I should probably end this relationship as I dozed off.
‘So you know how I told you about Jill’s little crush Jon who messaged me?’ – 2/16/12 6:36 pm.
I got this about a half-hour after getting home from work, nearly 12 hours after she woke me up looking to do some pre-dawn venting. I told the gf what she texted me, and she said, ‘ok, I think it’s time to tell her she has the wrong number.’ She was right. This was enough. So I texted her back.
‘What about it?’
I’m sorry, but before I ended this relationship, I really wanted to know what happened with Jill’s crush Jon. It sounded like it was going to be juicy!
‘She messaged him trying to have a convo and he asked why she messaged him. lol.’
SCANDALOUS! Gossip to the max!
But seriously, that was the most disappointing response ever. I was hoping for, ‘he brought a gun to school,’ ‘he cut off his weenie in shop class,’ or ‘he got Mrs. Levins pregnant!’ Instead, I got word that Jon doesn’t know who Jill is. This gossip sucked, and I let her know it.
‘No way!! Really? ROTFLMAO!!’ (In teen talk, that translates to, ‘No way! Really? That is so funny that I am literally rolling on the floor, laughing my ass off!’)
I couldn’t stop. I’m not sure why. I don’t have unlimited texting, and at the rate that this teenage girl (I was now assuming that this girl was a teenager) was sending me messages, I would soon need to get a second job to cover my phone bill. She immediately got back to me.
‘Silly bo billy.’
Yeah, definitely a teenage girl.
The next day was Friday, and I was in great spirits because we were heading into a three day weekend, meaning an extra night of my weekend where I could drink heavily and regret that the fact that I didn’t go outside the entire day. While still at work, about 15 minutes before leaving for the weekend, I got a frantic message from my textmate.
‘Oh dear god help me, I might of left your note in Bridget Maloney’s locker!’
Previous texts were casual, but now she was having a crisis. It was time to be an adult and help her through this.
‘Baloney Maloney??? It guess it’s ok.’
I was a little nervous about this one. Not because I was now officially being creepy, but because whomever I was pretending to be had now officially referred to Bridget Maloney as Baloney Maloney. I might have just unintentionally gotten a middle school girls’ ass kicked, especially if Bridget Maloney was large and in deserving of the nickname Baloney. While thinking this, I got a response.
‘It’s not okay!’
It was time for this to end…
‘Why not?’
… after I figured out why it wasn’t okay.
‘Oh idk, mentioned jspat, jimmy, johnny, phil, cole, nbd.’ (In teen talk, I think that means ‘Oh I don’t know, I only mentioned J-Spat, Jimmy and Johnny, Phil, Cole! Everyone! No big deal’ (I’m not sure if that no big deal was sarcasm or not. Unfortunately it’s tough to portray sarcasm in text)).
At this point I was done entertaining this girl. If I was getting some juicy gossip I’d be willing to go on, but she had nothing. Her teenage life was more depressing than my adult life. I needed to get out of this. But how? I didn’t want to let her know that she had been texting a 30-year-old man for the last few days. It might embarass her, and also might lead to my arrest. After giving it some thought I texted her back.
‘I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong number. I thought I’ve been texting my niece this whole time.’
Believable? I don’t know, I don’t have a niece. But if I did, I would refer to all of her friends with the last name of Maloney as Baloney Maloney, so maybe it wasn’t bad. She got back to me about an hour later.
‘Oh, haha! It’s ok, sorry about the mix up!’
And that’s how the greatest friendship I ever had ended.
On my way home the other day, with about 10 minutes to go before I reached my destination, I saw a man out of the corner of my eye taping up a sheet of paper on the subway. He taped the flier right as he was exiting the train, and the quickness in which he did it made him appear nervous. This made me extremely curious about what he had put up, and as I walked over to see what his sign said, I was not disappointed.
I was baffled by what I saw. I contemplated ripping it down and taking it home with me, but because it took time and bravery for this man to put himself out there the way he did, I decided instead to awkardly take pictures of it with my phone in front of disappointed strangers. Then I got home and recreated this sign to the best of my ability, using the exact verbage and use of upper and lower case letters that this man did. The only thing I altered was the phone numbers that he provided, because I didn’t want any readers to call this man and insult him. I refuse to have this website be involved in cyber-bullying.
(OMG!)
Here is a picture of the creative and perplexing sign that this man put up.
When I saw it from afar, I thought that it was an advertisement for a dating service. Turns out I was right… it’s just that this service is only for one man, and this man refuses to fuck around. Lets start from the top.
There is no better way to begin a personal ad better than a misspelled oxymoron. Dating: one nite stands only. The only thing that dating and one night stands have in common is that they both lead to faithful housewives getting herpes. This man wants a serious date, and on this serious date he seriously wants to get busy and never talk to his date ever again. It’s as clear as a David Lynch film (FILM SCHOOL JOKE!!!!)
What is great is that this man provides two numbers to be contacted at. One of them is most likely his personal line, and the other is either the number to his work phone, his probation officer, or his annoyed niece’s cellphone, who continues to regret saying that she owed her uncle a favor after that time he got wine coolers for her and her 18-year-old friends.
As if this Cassonova even needed it, the rest of the flier provides a glimpse into what a one night stand with him would be like. There’s only one rule:
Men need not apply. This flier is for the ladies, and while grabbing a buddy and going out to get some cake and ice cream may sound like the perfect dudes day, this man has made it clear that he is looking for love with the opposite sex.
A first date, especially one that is absolutely required to end in sex, can be awkward in a variety of ways. While keeping up a conversation with a complete stranger and avoiding long pauses can be uncomfortable, it is figuring out activities to do in the hours before forced intercourse that can make a date seem more like a job interview. This man has taken care of it by listing an assortment of activities and places that, while at times extremely vague, and at other times appearing to be a possible spelling exercise, are fantastic date ideas.
“The fucking zoo’s closed” – Jerry Maguire.
Well, not in this man’s heart. The zoo is alive and kicking, and a great place to get to know your one night stand. It’s a common fact that smelling like elephant dung and monkey urine is the perfect aphrodisiac, especially in New York City, where the only thing that smells worse than the garbage ridden streets is the zoo.
Believe it ladies, your one night stand wants to crash the middle of a child’s birthday party with you. Before you get it on at his sick grandmother’s place, he wants you both to get a sugar high that will keep you up all night long. But don’t worry, this classy gentlemen will make sure you both leave before everyone realizes you didn’t bring a present. Also, I’m sure he misspoke when he referred to that 6-year-old girl as ‘the hot chick in the purple sweater.’
What the hell is a Dutch date??? I didn’t want to look it up on my computer in fear that illegal Dutch porn pop-ups would invade my hard drive, overriding the illegal Yugoslavian pop ups that I’ve grown to love.
I was also afraid that if I looked up Dutch Date online, I might be put on the F.B.I.’s sexual predator list, right next to the name of the gentlemen who posted this sign. But girls, don’t let this deter you. It could be adventurous, and who doesn’t like a little adventure? (answer: the Dutch)
Three times in his personal(ly depressing) ad, Don Juan puts the word ‘meaning’ before describing the perfect date. I’m not sure how to take this phrasing. Is he saying, ‘if you agree to a one night stand, that will mean you can go on a soda date with me?’ Or is he saying, ‘I will take you on a meaningful soda date.’ Regardless, I love how naughty and innocent this man seems at the same time. As filthy as I imagine a Dutch date is, a soda date sounds like the apitamy of innocence. That is until you realize that the soda is going to be followed by required love-making that you unknowingly agreed to the moment you dialed his number.
He put coffee date below soda date and right before cake and ice cream date. Call me crazy, but I think he slipped that one in to appear like an adult. I don’t know why. I personally don’t think this guy has anything to prove in regards to his maturity. He has two phone numbers. And he knows what a Dutch date is.
MID-BLOG UPDATE: I just looked up what a Dutch Date is. I couldn’t resist. This is the definition I found:
‘Dutch Date’ is a term that indicates that each person participating in a group activity pays for himself, rather than any one person paying for anyone else, particularly in a restaurant bill.
This guy is the coolest person on the planet.
This is my favorite of the ‘meaning’ trilogy. Meaning: window shopping. He’s once again letting his one night stand know that he does not have the funds to pamper her. In fact, the only two dates that involved him spending money were his meaning soda date and his coffee date. Lets be honest, he’s only going to buy you coffee is if the girl at the cash register has big boobs, and soda prices, while much more than they were when people actually went on soda dates, are still quite affordable. Plus, lets call them by what they really are: a dutch coffee date and a dutch soda date. Hand over that $1.42.
Most men want to put up a facad that they can afford to shower their dates with gifts. Not this Romeo. He’s telling her, ‘if you like nice things, on our date you’re only going to be able to look at those nice things through a window.’ Then he expects to get laid. It’s brilliant and cost effective, which is essential in this economic climate.
Wait, are you sure about this?
…
…
… cause books can be expensive.
Ah, that’s more like it. The library date is perfect foreplay before a one night stand. What better way to get her in the mood for a romp in the hay than taking her to an environment where you’re both surrounded by rowdy kids, stressed out teenagers, and old women who keep telling you to keep your voices down? I just hope the librarians don’t recognize this guy when he brings his date, because it’s likely he’s been kicked out of every library in Brooklyn for looking at porn in the computer lab.
At this point, the man who hung up his offer for a physical and terrifying relationship that will last no more than 4 hours has made it very clear on what he is looking for. He wants a woman now, and he’s willing to put up with all the typical female cake and ice cream bullshit as long as it ends with a little naughty time. But one thing is clear: he is NOT looking for love.
Or is he…
WHAT?!?!?! Meaning: maybe romance?? The most romantic thing he’s said up to this point is that he is willing to take out a female as long as she pays for her half of the bill. Now he’s putting it out there that he might be looking for something a little more serious than your average zoo-then-sex rendezvous? I can’t figure this man out. He’s a riddle wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a really filthy personal ad on a subway train. I just hope that he finds what he is looking for… because if not, I think a random female in my neighborhood will soon be murdered.
Thomas Swindle, New York City’s newest evil mayor, makes an astonishing announcement during his first televised appearance: he is offering ten million dollars to the first person who tickles Manhattan resident Carl Philmore to the point of urination. The city erupts in an elaborate search of Carl, who we find out midway through the film has been bullied by the evil mayor his entire life. It becomes an an elaborate game of hide and seek for Carl as millions of people look for him with fury in their hearts and tickles in their fingers.
CAST
Evil Mayor Thomas Swindle
Macaulay Culkin
Carl
That Kid from Freaks and Geeks that always looked scared
TAG LINE
Who funded this project?
REVIEW
Macaulay’s most inspiring role since Michael Jackson’s ‘Black or White’ video. – Roger Ebert
… I thought of this terrible blog idea today when I was on the subway and thinking about how terrifying it would be if everyone on there with me wanted desperately to tickle me. Life inspires art.
One night a week my gal pal has evening classes, meaning that for a few hours after I get home from work I am able to do whatever manly thing I want. Finally, some time alone to let the man inside me (eww) come out in full force. So what do I do on these nights? Do I buy a steak, take my shirt off, crank up the pornography and practice my farting? No. In fact, so far my nights have been anything but those things.
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.
Traffic on my website has been down lately. People would probably attribute this to my sporadic and and infrequent posting. Personally, I’d rather blame it on the holidays. And maybe 9/11. Whatever it is, it’s out of my hands. I even resorted to putting up a picture of an old man with a black eye, the internets sure-fire way to gain an audience. But it didn’t work. Traffic is still sparse. This needs to change.
So in a cheap but necessary ploy to get more hits on my website, I’m going to have to give what readers want.
Lindsay Lohan recently did a photo shoot for Playboy, and the issue is supposed to hit filthy newstands next week. I just read that the photos were leaked to the internet, and after doing some research I was able to locate the Lohan picture that everyone on the internet wants to see. So although I try to keep this website somewhat appropriate, I have to do this. I hope you’ll understand.
Detroit Lions’ fans recently made national news when they petitioned to have their Thanksgiving half-time show performance by Nickleback canceled.
“This is a nationally televised game. We don’t want Nickleback doing the half-time show. It would ruin Detroit’s reputation!”
While it is impossible for the reputation of America’s Yeast Infection to get any worse, Detroit’s fan base is adamant that a Nickleback performance would only worsen a game that for decades has caused more Thanksgiving naps than tryptophan. Nickleback lead singer Chad Kroeger was shocked to hear the news.
“Detroit has a football team?”
The Lions, whose last playoff win came hours after Lincoln’s signing of the Emancipation Proclamation, have shocked the football world by starting the season 6-2. Just three years after failing to win a regular season game, this fast start has left Lions fans with a sense of pride that they haven’t felt since 8 Mile brought home an Oscar for Best Original Song. But America isn’t ready to embrace Lions football.
Because there are no quality television programs airing on the anniversary of when the pilgrims started to realize that they didn’t like diversity, year after year Americans have been forced to watch Lions football on Thanksgiving day. The game has proven to be more painful than the smallpox epidemic that was soon to come to half of the attendees at the first Thanksgiving dinner. Yet Detroit fans think that having Nickleback perform would be an insult.
Regardless of their recent success, over the years Detroit Lions football has ruined more Thanksgiving dinners than teenage pregnancy announcements, while Nickleback music has only dared us to feel emotions that we never even knew we had.
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.
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 1/4th 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.
Riddle: A homeless woman walks up to a wealthy man and says, “I have more money than you do.” The wealthy man says, “Oh, I doubt that.” They both pull out their most recent banks statements and compare, and in fact, the homeless woman has a lot more money than the wealthy man. How is this possible?
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?
Over two years after Canada hosted it’s 3rd Olympic games, the host countries most celebrated rapper is still salty over what he describes as the greatest injustice since Section 13(1) of the Canadian Human Rights Act (it states that it is discriminatory to communicate by phone or Internet any material “that is likely to expose a person or persons to hatred or contempt” (Canadian problems are adorable)).
(OMG!)
There is no better way to begin a personal ad better than a misspelled oxymoron. Dating: one nite stands only. The only thing that dating and one night stands have in common is that they both lead to faithful housewives getting herpes. This man wants a serious date, and on this serious date he seriously wants to get busy and never talk to his date ever again. It’s as clear as a David Lynch film (FILM SCHOOL JOKE!!!!)
Men need not apply. This flier is for the ladies, and while grabbing a buddy and going out to get some cake and ice cream may sound like the perfect dudes day, this man has made it clear that he is looking for love with the opposite sex.
“The fucking zoo’s closed” – Jerry Maguire.
Believe it ladies, your one night stand wants to crash the middle of a child’s birthday party with you. Before you get it on at his sick grandmother’s place, he wants you both to get a sugar high that will keep you up all night long. But don’t worry, this classy gentlemen will make sure you both leave before everyone realizes you didn’t bring a present. Also, I’m sure he misspoke when he referred to that 6-year-old girl as ‘the hot chick in the purple sweater.’
What the hell is a Dutch date??? I didn’t want to look it up on my computer in fear that illegal Dutch porn pop-ups would invade my hard drive, overriding the illegal Yugoslavian pop ups that I’ve grown to love.
Three times in his personal(ly depressing) ad, Don Juan puts the word ‘meaning’ before describing the perfect date. I’m not sure how to take this phrasing. Is he saying, ‘if you agree to a one night stand, that will mean you can go on a soda date with me?’ Or is he saying, ‘I will take you on a meaningful soda date.’ Regardless, I love how naughty and innocent this man seems at the same time. As filthy as I imagine a Dutch date is, a soda date sounds like the apitamy of innocence. That is until you realize that the soda is going to be followed by required love-making that you unknowingly agreed to the moment you dialed his number.
He put coffee date below soda date and right before cake and ice cream date. Call me crazy, but I think he slipped that one in to appear like an adult. I don’t know why. I personally don’t think this guy has anything to prove in regards to his maturity. He has two phone numbers. And he knows what a Dutch date is.
This is my favorite of the ‘meaning’ trilogy. Meaning: window shopping. He’s once again letting his one night stand know that he does not have the funds to pamper her. In fact, the only two dates that involved him spending money were his meaning soda date and his coffee date. Lets be honest, he’s only going to buy you coffee is if the girl at the cash register has big boobs, and soda prices, while much more than they were when people actually went on soda dates, are still quite affordable. Plus, lets call them by what they really are: a dutch coffee date and a dutch soda date. Hand over that $1.42.
Wait, are you sure about this?
WHAT?!?!?! Meaning: maybe romance?? The most romantic thing he’s said up to this point is that he is willing to take out a female as long as she pays for her half of the bill. Now he’s putting it out there that he might be looking for something a little more serious than your average zoo-then-sex rendezvous? I can’t figure this man out. He’s a riddle wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a really filthy personal ad on a subway train. I just hope that he finds what he is looking for… because if not, I think a random female in my neighborhood will soon be murdered.
That Kid from Freaks and Geeks that always looked scared
One night a week my gal pal has evening classes, meaning that for a few hours after I get home from work I am able to do whatever manly thing I want. Finally, some time alone to let the man inside me (eww) come out in full force. So what do I do on these nights? Do I buy a steak, take my shirt off, crank up the pornography and practice my farting? No. In fact, so far my nights have been anything but those things.
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
The Lions, whose last playoff win came hours after Lincoln’s signing of the Emancipation Proclamation, have shocked the football world by starting the season 6-2. Just three years after failing to win a regular season game, this fast start has left Lions fans with a sense of pride that they haven’t felt since 8 Mile brought home an Oscar for Best Original Song. But America isn’t ready to embrace Lions football.
Romanian?
