Tagged: idiots

The Minimum Wage Gap

So I feel like I should weigh in on this. Let me set this up for you. Apparently, all the employees at three separate Ohio Sonic restaurants walked off the job when the company changed their pay to $4.00. I typed that number out in numeric form so you could see just how silly it looks. I mean, four is a pretty good-looking number if you ask me. It’s not as sexy as the eight, but it’s got its points. But I sure as shit don’t want that to be the only number before the decimal in my pay scale.

See, here’s the thing: they say, “Oh, your pay will be $4.00 an hour because you make tips.” And my bottom line, my one sentence that could close this whole thing off to where you wouldn’t even need to read any further would very simply be the following sentence: That’s none of your damned business.

Continue reading…

An Open Letter to Adobe

Dear Adobe – and mainly you, Acrobat Reader. Listen here, bub. Your delusions of grandeur have escalated to a whole new level. Well, I guess they did a long time ago. They’ve been at this level for quite some time. But it’s not funny anymore. It used to be kind of cute how you’d show up at the party with the bigger boys acting like you’re one of them. Like you’re the really cool cop who brought the donuts to the Saturday Morning Citation Plus Club meeting. We all used to kind of watch you as you entered and we’d smile and say, “Isn’t that cute?” and “Yeah. Thinks he’s a big boy.”

You are like the high school kid who shows up to a frat party with your older sister and tries to hang with the college kids. The kid who must be reminded that he’s still just a high-schooler, and he shouldn’t try to act so cool while he’s at the party. You can’t drink as much as the big kids, you don’t know the secret handshake, and – no matter what you say – no. You have not been laid near as much as the college kids.

Continue reading…

Gone Are The Good Merchants

When I first started home-brewing, I bottled my beers. There’s something almost magical about popping the cap off a cold bottle of beer that you brewed yourself, pouring it into a pint glass. I love it. But pretty quickly the hassle of putting the beer into the bottles gets old, and most brewers begin kegging. I only bottled two batches of my beer before I said eff it and bought myself some kegs. Then I went online and ordered a kit – the regulator, the hoses and attachments, and a five-pound CO2 tank.

There are smaller tanks available. You see them attached to paintball guns all the time. But when it comes to home-brewing and the like, I’m not sure you can get a smaller bottle than a five-pound. And it’s about the size of one of those large fire extinguishers you see on the wall at work. Anyway, I immediately went to the homebrew forums trying to find where I could get my tanks filled. There were a couple of places in downtown Dallas that did it – well, they swap tanks, but don’t fill your tanks. That means you have to give them your new shiny empty one and they give you one of their rusty old ones full of air. But there was nowhere real close to where I lived. And then I stumbled on a liquor store.

Continue reading…

Walking the Tightrope

So many times my red-haired wife will come home and tell me about news stories she’s read or heard, and I’m always surprised. I don’t read news sites. I don’t watch TV, so I never see the news there. I don’t believe in newspapers. I mean, I’ve seen evidence of them before, but I just really don’t believe in them. Too much like bigfoot. A lot of hearsay and no real proof. And I really don’t listen to any news-bearing stations on the radio. So I guess you could suffice it to say that I don’t really keep up with current events.

I was sitting on the couch today, getting ready for my mid-afternoon nap when I suddenly had the urge to turn on the ole telly. I have one of those real old-school ones that’s not LED or 3D or 4K or any of that. It’s just a simple 1080p LCD. Remember back when those used to be cool? Anyway, I looked through the list of recorded shows – all the Doc McStuffins and Good Luck Charlie and various other Disney crap we record for my daughter – past my Ultimate Treehouses and Treehouse Masters, you know, the good stuff. And I found Nik Wallenda – Walking the Tight Rope.

Continue reading…

SpaceBrew Review: Bangs & Whimpers

This book, Bangs & Whimpers: Stories About the End of the World is a collection of short stories by different authors. Most of these stories were written some fifty to sixty years ago. It includes passages from all the greats – from Arthur C. Clarke to Robert Heinlein, Neil Gaiman to Isaac Asimov. I’ve owned it for many years now, but have somehow never gotten around to reading it, until now.

I started it several nights ago, longing for the feel of a paper book in my hands after nearly a year of nothing but audio and electronic books. I just finished it. And let me tell you: if you are in the mood to be depressed, pick up a copy of this volume and give a go. Dear Lord.

Continue reading…

Lest Ye Be Judged…

The church I attend is spread across two campuses. I go to the North Campus. Not sure why I capitalized that, but there you are. It wasn’t always like that, though. Not the capitalization thing, the two campuses thing. There used to only be one campus. It was the South Campus. But of course, back when it was the only one, it wasn’t called the South Campus. Or the south campus. Or even the campus. It was just called the church. And if I capitalize that, you’ll start thinking of Under the Milky Way.

Anyway, the point is that when it used to be just one building, and that’s where I went, I was married to a different woman than I am now. I have nothing negative to say about my ex-wife. She’s a lovely gal. We just weren’t meant for each other like I used to think. When we went through our divorce, which was one of the most difficult times I’ve ever gone through, I stopped attending that church. I also lost forty-five pounds. That should tell you how stressful it was, and – therefore – how seriously I took it. I hate divorce, and can often be heard saying I don’t believe in it. But that’s a whole other column.

Continue reading…

New York Diaries, Vol 2

The first order of business upon arriving in a foreign town is to locate a good place to drink. Well, maybe that’s not a rule or anything, but it seems to work well for me. I’ve had almost one-hundred-percent success in using this little scheme when I visit new towns. I want you to look at the inset picture here really closely, without clicking on it yet. There. Right in the middle. Do you see it? Okay, now click it.

Now you see it, don’t you? Yes, friends, that is indeed a BREWERY. Sorry for the shittastic image – there were raindrops on the window through which I took the photo. {aside} When I checked in, I played some charm on the cute clerk and said in my best Texas accent, “I’m from Dallas. I’ve never been here. Can you give me something really high up?” She smiled and said yes, then upgraded my room to the 43rd floor, so I got a pretty good look. So yes, I walked into my room, dropped my crap on the floor and immediately walked to the window to have a look at the world below. Once I spotted the brewery, I was back down on the street within three minutes. My suitcase was still on the bed, zipped up tight.

Continue reading…

First Day After The End Of The World

We had a party last night. The invite said “Apocalypse Party. What better way to go out than hanging with friends, with a drink in your hand!” I guess we ended up with about twenty people over there. I served from my two kegs full of homebrew, and people brought various six-packs and variety packs of beer. Which I guess is cool, because now I have probably twenty unique types and brands of beer in my BeerFridge. Twenty that I’ve never tried. Pretty cool, I say. But what about the real question here?

Why didn’t the world end?

Continue reading…

Here’s the thing about weddings.

See, I get mad when I think or talk about weddings. Not just the kind of mad you get when someone slams a door behind you unexpectedly. No, not even the kind of mad you get when someone calls your mom a whore. The mad I get is like the burning fiery rage of a thousand suns. It makes me angry in my soul. When I find myself getting into a conversation about weddings, I have to withdraw instantly, lest I burn up inside and start shouting all the reason they’re bullshittical, hogwashical and colossal wastes of money. And there are several reasons why this is so. I shall now tell you about them.

First of all, I know the big white weddings are traditional. Most women (and I know I’m gonna get a lot of flack for this, but that’s fine – I’m ready) seem so stuck on this “tradition” excuse that they turn into robots. I SIMPLY MUST GO SPEND A THOUSAND DOLLARS ON A DRESS. Yeah. You must. Why? Because your mother did it. And her mother before her. And you know what they all have in common? They all had an expensive white dress in their closets that never got used again. Because when it comes time to pass your dress down to your daughter, she’s going to say, “Oh, that’s so 1950s! I need my OWN one.” And your daughter is going to do the same damn thing. “Oh mom, I can’t wear that! That’s so 2001!” So yes, by all means, you’re right. You absolutely MUST go out and spend a thousand dollars on a dress you will wear one time. Ever. Because YOU have to follow tradition. You’re smarter than the rest of them.

Continue reading…

Life Comes At You Fast (And So Do Cars)

It’s weird – I never thought it would happen to me. I am so defensive and cautious and alert, and even what one might call ‘super-ambulatory’. But none of that matters. I even saw it coming. He was turning left, but looking right as he pulled onto Lemmon heading Northwest. I noticed he was turning wide, into the center lane, obviously swerving wide to avoid me. But then at the last second, he changed course and started aiming for the inside lane, right where I was.

People have these theories that if ever a car bears down on them, they’ll jump in the air, do a fancy football juke, or a double-back-flip over the car. Well I just thought I’d be able to dash out of the way real fast. Well, as it turns out, time isn’t very elastic, and it just marches forward, second for second. And by the time I realized he wasn’t seeing me, I was out of options. So I turned and faced the truck. A Tahoe, it was. A white one with a black driver. And faster than lightning, he hit me.

Continue reading…

Vincent Hobbes is a Thief

I’m a writer. One might debate how well I perform this craft. Or not. Almost everyone who has read my books has told me they liked them greatly. I say this not in boastful arrogance, but just to say that I do it to the best of my ability, I take it seriously, and I take pride in making it as good as my ability will allow. I’ve written millions of words. A lot of them on this website. If you peruse back through the archives, you will see I have over 450 columns attributed to my name. And most of them are 800 words or more. Not just some quick paragraph about nonsense. Why do I say all this? I don’t know. I think I’m just trying to justify the title I used in the first sentence of my column.

But I don’t need to. Not really. The word writer speaks nothing of the personality of the writing. It doesn’t lend itself to any superlatives or adjectives describing the talent of the human being who takes the title. It only expresses that he or she has set out to perform a task, an effort that takes at least a fair amount of talent or skill, and has thus taken the label.

Continue reading…

Congratulations, America! You win!

Way to go, the United States of America. On Independence Day – the day in which you celebrate your nation’s birth – the most important day in this country’s history – you host a hot-dog-eating contest. Let’s all celebrate our nation’s freedom and make ourselves look even more gluttonous and stupid and self-serving and arrogant by stuffing our obese faces with tubes of processed pig intestines and giraffe anus. I can think of no greater glory!

This hot-dog-eating contest has become a staple in American entertainment. These skinny little dudes eat fifty-plus hot dogs in a matter of minutes. They dunk them in bowls of water so they’ll go down more quickly and easily. Do you know how bad hot dog buns (or any bread, for that matter) taste when they’re soaked with water? Yeah, me neither. You know why? Because it’s gross!

Continue reading…

I Hate Websites That Suck

It seems that in this age, everyone is required to have some sort of web presence. Even if it’s just to tell everyone what your name is, that you have a cat and you like listening to the Jonas Brothers. Everyone has a Facebook page. I don’t even know what happened to MySpace, but it has very clearly been supplanted to the far less flashy Facebook. Everyone has a Twitter, from which they let all of their followers know exactly what they’re doing all day long, every single day. The ridiculousness of all this is getting ridiculous. And there’s your opening paragraph.

First of all, no one cares about you and your stupid cat. No one cares that you like Justin Bieber and James Blunt. You don’t need to take up space on a web server hard drive somewhere just to tell people about your pathetic existence. Nor does anyone care that you’re STANDING IN LINE AT PIGGLY WIGGLY AND IT’S TAKING FOREVER OMG LOL WTF!!!!1 Do something useful with your life. Take down your stupid alliteratively titled website (e.g. Hannah’s Heaven, Carol’s Closet, Mykynzy’s Mansion) and post instead, something useful.

Continue reading…

The Trifecta of Idiocy

Have you ever had one of those days where you just can’t do anything right? Well I haven’t. Everything I ever do is right. Ahem. Okay, well sometimes maybe I make a mistake or two. But… Okay, well sometimes I have those days too. And it seems especially bad when it happens to me because usually when I start messing up, people start getting hurt. I’m not sure why, but it just seems to work out that way most of the time.

For instance, the other day at my nephew’s birthday party, we all went to Blortbortham’s Seafood & Sausage House over on Cooper Street. I was carrying my two-year-old princess on my shoulders, walking around the restaurant so we could see what people were eating. I would stop by a table and bend over to examine their plates and ask them if it was any good. “How’s the squid bladder with octopus semen sauce?” I would ask, for instance. Some of the patrons seemed put off by the fact that I was asking them what they were eating, but come on – you’re in a public eatery! You should expect to have some human interactions with strangers.

Continue reading…

Happy Monday, Planet Earth

There are several things on my mind this morning, all of which I intend to share with you. Well, except one of them. One of them isn’t appropriate for this website. But the rest of them are. In fact, the rest of them are part of the core values upon which this website was founded! Humor, entertainment and a good dose of pissed offedness.

First off, I’d like to award the SpaceBrew Movie of the Week award to Despicable Me. If you haven’t seen it, you should run out and rent it. Or buy it, hell. You’ll end up watching it several times. The other day my kids and I watched it in the morning. We then ended up at my Pop’s house and they wanted to see it so we watched it again. And I still laughed at all the funny bits. I’m still not bored by it.

Continue reading…

A Sour Taste in my Mouth

I was going to write this column yesterday, but got really busy and didn’t end up having time. And now, it seems that delay might have been serendipitous, at least in that I might use fewer curse words in my text. You see, my faith in humanity has once again plummeted. Which is odd on the whole, when you consider the fact that it was already so low as to be considered subterranean. In fact it hit the base rock and got out an auger long, long ago. But you know, that’s the great thing about humanity: it never fails to amaze me with how shitty it can get!

But like I said, I’m glad I ended up waiting, because something terribly awesome happened last night that restored a little tiny bit of that faith. That faith in humanity is strengthened when you realize there are businesses out there made up of human beings who care about people. Or at least they care about money and are so good at making it that they can afford to give away free stuff. Like laptops. Yes, I am, in fact, writing this on my new Google Chrome CR-48 laptop. Thank you for asking. It just arrived on my doorstep last night. I had even forgotten I signed up to be in the pilot program. Yes. Google sent me a free laptop. And it’s probably the most awesome notebook I’ve ever seen. Slicker than whale snot on an ice rink.

Continue reading…

Baseball and Politics Don’t Mix

There are a few things I wish to discuss with you under the topic of ‘baseball’. I know we’re all excited that the Rangers were in the World Series for the first time ever, even though they got their asses handed to them for all intensive porpoises. It was still exciting. Irregardless, I’m not really here to talk about the Rangers. Or the Dallas Cowboys. Ahem. One and six? Seriously? Yeah. Let’s move on.

Let’s talk about little league! My son plays for the Local Ball Club Association for Baseball Playing Children of the Local City Ball Club Academy. It’s not a school team, but a select registration team. Anyway, I’m not sure any of that is relevant except to say that it’s not a school team. Which is important for several reasons, which I will list here:

Continue reading…

Here’s Your Sign

You always hear people asking, “Why do drive-up ATMs have Braille on the buttons? Do they think blind people will be driving? LOL”. But my question is far more simple. Why do ATMs have Braille on them? Do they think blind people will be pulling out cash? The buttons don’t have assigned functions and values, and their purpose changes with every option you select. So how would a blind person know when to hit which button?

It seems we as humans are advancing technologically into areas our parents’ generation only dreamed of. There’s that damn preposition at the end of my sentence again. But at the same time, we’re getting dumber and dumber. Think about it. Do you know any rocket scientists, personally? Do you know anyone who actually has contributed something to the technology revolution? It’s sort of just something that happens when we put our minds together. Yet, I don’t know any single individual who isn’t susceptible to being an idiot sometimes.

Continue reading…

Don’t Give Me The Bird

I’m not just now beginning to believe the birds are conspiring in some manner against humans. Now I’m not sure of their intentions, but my best estimates are that they’re either planning to take over the world by killing all humans, or plotting some massive attack in order to acquire more birdseed. Either of those scenarios is as realistic as the other. So it’s hard to tell. But for a long time, I’ve thought birds had some sinister plan. Remember, I mentioned it in my column about how people are becoming more like birds.

So what spurred this train of thought, you say? Well, hear this, friends. Grab a cup of coffee, maybe a napkin with a couple of strips of cold bacon on it, and a chair. Then pull up close to your monitor, put your elbows on the desk and prepare to read possibly the greatest tale ever of how a bird tried to assassinate and possibly take over the life of a human being. It’s about to get scary in here.

Continue reading…

Bacon Talk: Cell Phones

Good morning, Haycomet. That’s a very nice bonnet you have on! How’s your bacon? I’ve been really enjoying these little Friday-morning Bacon Talk get-togethers. It’s a great way to start the day, and I always know my weekend will get a little bit better jump start.

Well this morning, I’ve been thinking about connectedness… again… And I started getting a little uncomfortable. Again. Yes, every time I think about how connected we are as a society and as a people, I get a little sad inside. And it’s not because I fear technology, but rather, I fear our dependence on it. Gone are the days when I could leave the house without a phone and access to my six email accounts, facebook, my website, my bank account and my stock portfolio. And just being sad or uncomfortable about it doesn’t seem to be enough. It won’t spur me into changing my ways and leaving the house technologically naked. And for good cause, too. I’m expected to be connected for work as well.  So how connected are you?

Continue reading…

The Law of Averages

I can’t recall how well I did in statistics class, most likely because of one of the few following reasons: I a) didn’t take statistics class in college, b) spent way too much time between the sheets with girls and not near enough between the pages of schoolbooks, or c) didn’t actually go to college. I can’t even recall which of the answers would be closest to correct, so I shall not bother. And there’s your opening paragraph.

But let’s just say that the odds of some things happening are almost statistically impossible. Like that time when my dad and I were at the driving range hitting golf balls, and we both hit at the same time, and our golf balls hit each other in mid-air about fifty yards out. Un-effing-believable. Seriously, we couldn’t do that again in seven hundred years. But it did happen. I wonder if that has ever even happened before to anyone out there at driving ranges all over the world. Surely it has…

Continue reading…

Do these genes make me look fat?

I hear people all the time saying obesity is a disease. They talk like it’s something people get infected with, and there’s nothing they can do about it. Like cancer. Oh no, you got the fat? So sorry to hear that. Did the doctor say how long you have? I’ve also heard people say it’s genetic and there’s nothing they can do about it. My dad was fat so I have to accept that I’m fat too, and there’s not much point in trying to change it. What?

I’ve known people who go through phases where they gain a bunch of weight, then get busy, bust their ass, and lose it. Is that genetic too? See I think our problem here in America is the fact that we want to be lazy. Whether or not we’re lazy seems to be irrelevant. We want to be lazy. We don’t want to do anything about it. We’d rather sit around eating twinkies, getting fatter and bitching about how we’re fat. I say be fat and happy, or lose weight. No excuses for being fat and pissed off about it.

Continue reading…

Keep On The Grass

Well for the last two months I’ve been away from Geek Squad, settling into my new job, and loving it. No more people approaching the counter demanding refunds for the laptop that just “stopped working” with the promise that there’s “no way in hell” they dropped it, and oh, what’s this crack in the LCD? Well that stuff just happens. Or it came like that. Or software did that. :rolleyes:

Anyway, it’s nice not to have to deal with the brunt of society’s idiots on a daily basis. Now I provide desktop and server support to all the clinics for the company for which I work, but really there are no stupid people here. There are those who have no idea what’s what in the world of techmology, but they’re sensible people. This is, after all, the medical industry. And I love it. So why am I writing? Ah, you know me. I don’t write about things when I’m happy about them.

Continue reading…

The Day of the Turkey

I guess to those of you in New York, it would be Day of the Toikey. Well either way, I hope it’s a happy one. I thought I would sit down here on the sofa and write a little post to fill everyone in on what’s been going on lately. It’s nice to have a family day with Step and the girls. We don’t have the boy this week, but it’s still cozy. We’ve historically always gone to the parents’ houses or to be with extended family, but today we decided to stay home and have our own intimate little turkey eating experience.

I haven’t had internet connectivity at home over the last few months, and working the odd hours and schedules that I work now haven’t had the time or the passion to update the site. I brought home a modem last night from the Clear guy to try it out and see what kind of connectivity and speeds I get, and was amazed at how the first thing I wanted to do was write a post on the Brew. Lucky you.

Continue reading…

In God We Trust

I read a news article about a man who is suing the nation in an effort to try to get that simple little phrase removed from US currency. He says it represents a definitive stance on religious principles. Does it? There’s a live vote going on as I write this. Looks like so far about three quarters of us think it’s a patriotic and historically significant phrase and should be left alone. What do you think?

My opinion on this is simple. I’m all for the separation of church and state, and no, I don’t think people should have to say “under God” in the pledge of allegiance if they don’t want to. Whatev. But don’t amend it because of a few. Because this nation was founded under God originally. And here’s the other thing. Whether it’s crossing the line between separation of church and state is irrelevant. God is still over both church and state, last I checked. I mean, anyone who creates a universe has the right to run it however he deems fit, and everything in it is technically ‘under’ him, yeah? So whether or not you choose to accept it, speak it, acknowledge it, admit it or otherwise, God’s still pretty much the man. Church, state, city, farm, wherever.

Continue reading…

Happy Gay Pride Month

It’s June. How the hell is that possible? It seems like just yesterday it was May. Well, day before yesterday. This year is just hauling ass. Like a pickup full of donkeys. But it’s also Gay Pride Month, and I’ve something to say about this. You knew I would.

Just like Black History Month. And the Black Entertainment Network. And Indian Appreciation Day. I don’t even need to delve into that bullshit and how racist and divisive it is. But Gay Pride Month? Seriously? Do we really need to proud to be gay? Well I’m okay with your being gay, and your being proud to be gay. Let me rephrase. Do we really need to have a month that condones and celebrates outward pride about being gay?

Continue reading…

Why I’m So Cynical

Well, I don’t really know why. But I can share with you a few examples of how I’m cynical.

A friend an I were talking about looking at the stars, and I made a joke about it not mattering if there are clouds or not, because the telescope sort of puts you out past the clouds. You’re looking at stuff much further away than the clouds, you see.

I know, it’s a rolleyes for me too. But you’d be surprised at how many people won’t laugh at that joke. But rather say, “Uh, what’s the joke, Spacey?”

Continue reading…

Time for a New Orleans

Yeah, I’d just like to give a quick shout out to all our neighboring countries who’ve jumped right in to help us in this time of crisis. What’s up, Canada? Hey Mexico – how you doing? Hey Germany, how’s it hangin? Remember all them boats full of supplies and food and medicine and doctors and clothes and toys and blankets we sent in the wake of the tsunami last Christmas? Yeah. What’s up?

I’d also like to see some interior congregation of goods and services offering. I’d like to see a hotel chain like Hilton offer up ten thousand rooms all over the country – at cost – for some of the million families to stay in for a while. I’d like to see a Luby’s chain open up and say, “What’s up, New Orleansers, come in here and grab a hot cajun meal.” I’d like to see a Wal Mart or a Ross Dress For Less say, “Hey, chiefs, come in here and get some dry clothes.” I’d like to see gas prices hop up over four dollars a gallon so the oil industry doesn’t have to suffer.

Continue reading…

Lines, lines, lines…

I’ve got something on my mind that’s been pissing me off lately. It’s about waiting in lines. I was standing at the grocery store the other night, waiting patiently to give them my money. The cashier two lanes over opens up and the dude behind me bolts over there like he’s running for his life. Then that checker steps out and says, “Sir, you can come down here.” So I walked on over there. This dude is all looking at me like he’s nervous, but at the same time, he wasn’t about to give me his place in line.

Now. My gripe is this: What in the hell makes him think he should be in front of me? I was in front of him in this line over here, and granted, he ran to the other one first. But my theory is that if a new checkstand opens, it should serve the people who have been waiting the longest. At the fronts of the lines. Not from the backs. I’ve been waiting ten minutes longer than this lunger, but he gets to be in front of me in the new line?

Continue reading…

Some People Should Not Drive

I was riding with a friend of mine yesterday, on the way home from Home Depot, and we had a kind of odd experience. Well, actually – I should clarify – I had the odd experience. It wasn’t odd to her at all. But it tripped my shit right out. She drives a convertible Mustang, but the top was up and the windows were up.

oh no holy shit we're gonna dieWe were driving – actually (again) she was driving [had I been driving (being a more competent driver altogether) we probably wouldn’t have had the experience in the first place] and she cut some lady off in a Buick. My friend drives like a blind, retarded lemur with no legs in the first place, so riding with her is a real treat. You can see in the passenger floorboard, the carpet is kind of worn out from her passengers slamming on imaginary brakes. I’m a pretty laid-back passenger and not much scares me, but when I’m riding with her, I can’t watch the road. Frankly, she scares the great green shit out of me. You are guaranteed an ulcer in twenty minutes if she drives you through downtown Dallas traffic. Not that I would ever actually ride with her through downtown Dallas during traffic.

Continue reading…

The Hot Women Like Dorks

You don't stand a chance.Why do hot women like this always end up with nerds and losers? I mean, I’m a nerd. I know how to fix computers and I read a lot of books. But I don’t look like one, you know? At least I think I don’t. But I’m certainly not a loser! But seriously, I saw this chick the other day and she was hotter than a jalapeno on fire in Texas on the sidewalk in August. Or something. And the dude she was with was a short, oddly lumpy, frog-faced dude who looked like he never showered. What in The Elephant’s name is that shit all about?

One of my best friends is knockdown drag-out gorgeous. She has the body of a – well, a great body, and has a good head on her shoulders. And she told me one time that most guys are too intimidated to ask her out. So she is single most of the time. Then here comes compuboy who has nothing to lose, so he starts asking at the top. And guess what? Bada Bing, Bada Boom. He gets himself a hot chica. At some point in their lonely single lives they say to themselves, “I’m going out with the very next guy who asks me.” So there you have it, fellas. Start asking out all the hot chicks. One of them is bound to say yes sooner or later.

Continue reading…

Not In Your Area

Check this out: I called Pizza Hut last night and asked for some pizza. The stuffed crust, which they got the monopoly on. The lady asks what the nearest cross street is to my house, and I tell her. She says, “Oh, well you have to call this number.” Click. So she shunned her responsibility.

A little perturbed, because I had waited on hold a few minutes – and every minute counts when you’re hungry – I called the other number. They took my order, then said, “but wait… Where do you live?” I said “off such and such.” He says, “east or west of it?” I said, “East, but right off it. Like five feet east.” Well, that didn’t matter. He told me I had to call this other place.

Continue reading…

Why are men such douchebags?

I go out to the pool sometimes. You know, to swim? Remember that? You like jump in the water and swim around and enjoy the cool refreshing water and the warm sun. I’m pretty sure this is what the pool was originally intended for. But anyway, it’s all a big pissing contest now.

This chick comes out all wearing a nice bikini. So what starts happening is all the guys start getting out of the water and laying out like bitches trying to show off their bodies to this chick. As if any of them have a chance with her. Now granted these are all high-class guys, with the big tattoos on their back and stuff. You know, real men.

Continue reading…