Thursday, October 29, 2009

No. 79 "Occupational Misconceptions."

It seems like we, as men, have been tricked into thinking that women with certain jobs/careers are inherently hot. When we hear the occupation: nurse, stewardess or librarian we tend to assume they are hot, only to be disappointed when we see a ragamuffin occupying the position of someone who should be hot. Well, I am here to put this misconception to rest.

As soon as the term "flight attendant" was invented, all the hot young stewardess disappeared and became strippers outside of airports. Their uniforms that were once tight and skanky have been replaced with conservative and plain attire that leaves everything to the imagination. I haven't seen an attractive stewardess on a plane in years. They all look like librarians with butch haircuts. Airlines also allowed men to be Stuarts, (I will not call them flight attendants because they deserve to be mocked) and thus cut the amount of hot stewardesses in half, which means my dream of being in the Mile High Club is almost impossible now.

Back in the day, hot nurses were all the rage. That is probably why so many people wanted to be doctors. You make a shit-ton of money and get to bang a hot nurse on the operating table while your patient is comatose. Those nurses of yore have been replaced with fat, mean nurses that yell at me for playing with the doctor's toys instruments. I just feel bad for the doctors that spent all that time and money going to med school to find out that the hottie nurses were all gone and they have to settle for hospital receptionists instead. Don't believe me? You remember your school nurse in grade school? Case dismissed.


Don't get me wrong, there are some hot teachers. I personally am for decriminalizing statutory rape if the teacher is hot*. The student she bones should also get straight A's for being awesome. But, since they are cracking down on teacher-student hookups, (one of the main reasons I did not pursue a degree in education) all the slutty teachers are dwindling and there are only so many left. Now we're stuck with average looking teachers that only care about students learning and other bullshit of that short. Its a shame, really.

Contrary to popular belief, most "MILFS" are not our friends' moms, but actually pornographic actresses that do not have children due to their male counterparts pulling out and "expressing themselves" on their faces. Most moms are actually quite frumpy and don't take proper care of their nether regions. Once they pop out a couple kids and "forget" to go the the gym their physique starts to diminish. Moms are older too and their once perky boobs have been sucked dry by the thirsty/selfish children they have raised. (You)

Sure, they've got handcuffs, which can come in handy if things go well, (intercourse) but the majority of lady cops are unbonable. I'm not sure which female officer of the law this Lil' Wayne character is referring to in his popular song "Mrs. Officer," but I have yet to see a hot cop that wasn't being portrayed by a model/actress in a television show. They have their hair up, can't wear makeup, and are really, really mean. I am not in the mood to be hitting on someone after they give me a ticket for public indecency***, its just not my style.


I don't know about you, but I am not a fan of being shushed while I covertly masturbate to internet porn at the local library, it ruins the mood for me. The whole glasses and bookworm thing isn't my style either, get contacts you nerds. Librarians sit around all day so they can't be in great shape and they always like to talk about reading, which is one of my least favorite subjects. And lest we not forget the fact that most librarians are retirees that enjoy bossing people around and yelling at children. When was the last time you saw a librarian younger than fifty?

Here is short list of professions where all the females are hot, so spend more time talking/looking from afar with them:

-Models with big juggs
-Lingerie models
-Nudie models
-Runway models
-Golf cart beer girls

So there you have it. I have successfully proven that just because you have a certain job does not make you hot, and in certain situations, (bitchy librarians) none are hot. Next time you hear one of your dumb buddies bragging about banging a nurse, just remember that she was probably overweight and had a visible mustache. For those of you that currently occupy these jobs, try to spice it up a bit and have sex with one of your 3rd graders.

*If she is unattractive/fat then she should get life in prison.
**Not a real profession since an income in not allotted and most of their time is spent watching daytime dramas.
***Charges dropped due to insufficient evidence.

Monday, October 26, 2009

No. 78 "Benign Minutia VII."

What kind of dinosaur was the Thesaurus? I bet he was nerd that was always reading and got bullied by the T-rexes.

Are mud flaps with silhouettes of busty women given out at every redneck's 16th birthday?

Whenever I see RIP (insert random celebrity here) as multiple statuses on Facebook I don't turn on the TV or log on to I just check Wikipedia. If it says they are dead then I believe it.

I only take vitamins to make my pee look cool.

Being too drunk is a great way of getting out of doing favors for friends.

Is it possible to wield something that isn't a weapon?

I hate when I go to take a shit and bring some reading material cause I know I'll be in there for a while, but then the shit only lasts like two minutes and I'm strangely disappointed because I know I won't do anymore reading until I have to use the can again.

To the best of your ability includes the nerd I'm sitting next to when taking tests, right?

I've found that putting a couple quotes by respected authors and philosophers on my Facebook makes me seem smart and cultured. Just Google some Socrates and Ralph Waldo Emerson quotes and you're set.

Beneath every emo kid is a skinny unathletic nerd and beneath that is a homosexual.

Every time I "help" my dad put something together, 95% of my tasks include handing him things and standing around.

Since the morning after pill is called Plan B, what is Plan C? Abortion? And shouldn't that be Plan A?

Having glasses and a strange haircut are essential to looking creepy. (Being Asian helps too)

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

No. 77 "Career Skills."

To whom is may concern:

I have been forced asked by the welfare board to submit my job skills to your enterprise in order to attain a job/career that best suits my skills in the workplace. I am confident that my many areas of expertise will help you connect me with a promising career of awesomeness that I can excel in and make the world a better place. Bellow are a list of possible jobs I would be perfect at. As you can see, I have a lot of experience and various trades that can easily translate into a financially stable career.

Facebook Status Commenter:

I've already perfected this craft through years of writing snide and crude comments on my friends' new statusi statuses. I have five years of Facebook status commenting experience, and if you contact any of my personal references you will come to learn that I have not only annoyed but entirely ruined friendships through vigorous sarcastic and rude comments on people's statuses.

Boob Feeler:
I have been a breast connoisseur since the mid-90's and when I am not studying breasts on the internet or television I like to use my boob feeling skills in the field. I, myself have felt over three pairs of breasts of all sizes and qualities and am confident that my combination of squeezing and playing with the breasts at hand will translate in the workplace. I also do asses.

Douche Bag Puncher:
This type of job wouldn't involve any supervision or salary. I could work strictly on tips from clients. Basically, I would arrive at a large city with a high density of douche bags (such as the Jersey Shore) and set up shop in a popular hangout. I would then put up ads for an Ed Hardy sale to lure them in. Once the douche bags flock in, I will trap them and punch them one by one and collect money from their Louis Vuitton wallets.

Halogen Light Breaker:

My skills at breaking shit objects is one of my proudest. Since I was a child I have always enjoyed destroying objects that break into tiny little pieces. Halogen lights are perfect because they look like swords, (which are awesome) and they turn into dust once they are broken. I can work long hours doing this job and am willing to do overtime if the quantity of halogen lights is large.

Hand Rail Slider:
Sliding down hand rails has been a passion of mine for many years. I prefer to slide over walking down stairs and feel that my experience in this activity are second to none. I can slide both regular and goofy stance and have no problem taking on rails of large lengths. Nylon pants will need to be provided by the employer and I will not attempt rails that curb upwards at the end due to groin injuries in the past.

Annoying Child Silencer:
I have a variety of different ways to "silence" a child that do not include homicide. Since I am bigger, stronger and almost always smarter than children, I can overpower them and force them to be quiet in public places. It is important for one to love their job and nothing makes me happier than to see the frown on a child's face. Rope, duct tape and a taser must be provided if astute work is to be done.

Trivia Competitor:
This is probably my best skill. (save boob feeler) I have attended numerous chain restaurant/bars with devises for trivia of all sorts. My formidable skills are in movies, sports and music. Science and history are not my strong suit and mathematics is a trivia subject I refuse to compete in due to the fact that its super lame. If the job requires me to drink copious amounts of alcohol before/during competitions, I am willing and able.

Professional Napper:
I perfected the art of the nap long ago when I was a baby. I would just cry a bunch, throw bowls of cereal at my mother and then pass out while the bitch my mom cleaned it up. Nowadays its very similar. I go out and drink heavily with friends while making rash and sometimes life-changing decisions, then I pass out and my mom cleans it all up. (The puke that is.) My personal favorite nap is the mid-afternoon after-masturbation nap, but I am willing to nap whenever, wherever. (As long as a blanket and pillow are provided)

Wet T-shirt Contest Judge:

This goes back to my skills in boob-feeling. Although I may not need to feel the contestants breasts, (but am willing to, if needed) I have very good eyesight and can rate a pair of juggs from a 1 to a 10 without much trouble. Beads and drunk sluts will be need to be supplied by a third party, as well as a hose with a source of water. Other jobs in this field I could translate my skills towards: foxy boxing referee, jello wrestling instructor and champagne sprayer of big-booty hoes on large boats.

I, personally do not know how to translate my multiple job skills into an income, but since it is your job to do that, I will be expecting many job offers within the next 3-5 days. It should be known that I am unable to work mornings or weekends because of religious circumstances. (Alcoholism) I am willing to travel and can provide my own sword and/or cape if needed.


Sunday, October 18, 2009

No. 76 "Breakdown Of A Blackout."

7:14 PM: Time to start the night off right with a shower beer. It'll be just like Freshmen year, except no RA's yelling at me and calling my parents.

7:33 PM: I forgot how much soapy water got into my shower beer back in the day. Scratch that idea for next time. Now I'll have a crisp, refreshing, non-soapy beer while I get ready and make my hair look awesome.

7:49 PM: I know it's called Drinking and Driving, but I'm not drunk yet, so I'll be fine to drive while I enjoy a cold brew. I'll just pretend its Sarsaparilla.

7:55 PM: Well, the cop didn't believe it was Sarsaparilla and tried to take me to jail. Luckily a beer works as both a delicious beverage and a make-shift weapon. I dragged his lifeless body to the side of the road though, so as to not create a road hazard.

8:01 PM: At my buddies place and ready to rage! He's not here yet, nor is anyone else, so I'll just make myself a mixed drink with whatever is in his fridge.

8:04 PM: Gin and milk is not my new favorite drink.

8:09 PM: Not buzzing quite yet, and kinda bored. I think I'll just play with his dogs while I wait for everyone to get here.

8:11 PM: Fuck, they ran away. I'll just pretend I never saw the dogs -- better yet, say I never knew he had dogs in the first place. Genius.

8:24 PM: Finally Jimmy and the crew got home. I don't know why they keep joking around about not inviting me and forbidding me from their house. Those guys...

8:25 PM: Jimmy has just realized that his dogs are missing. I better hide.

8:27 PM: Bathroom, perfect. I could really use a drink, though. Hmm... mouthwash?

8:33 PM: Jimmy has calmed down because his dogs came back home. Whew... that was close. Now I'll slyly "borrow" a couple beers from them and converse.

8:55 PM: Just drank five beers without anyone noticing. I should be a secret agent.

8:57 PM: They found out I drank their beers and now want me to reparate them in a monetary fashion. I'll just give them an empty Starbucks gift card.

9:12 PM: People are starting to flock in, and my Starbucks gift card has given me the ability to drink their beer without having to do it covertly. A group of scantily clad women are playing a drinking game, I must join.

9:23 PM: Alright, they don't appreciate dead baby jokes, especially that one chick that brought her baby. Who brings a baby to a party, seriously? Shots? Shots!

9:40 PM: No one wanted to do shots with me because they were too pussy or something. Oh, and it turns out that I mistook that chick's baby for a midget. He still doesn't find dead baby jokes funny though.

9:51 PM: Beer pong!!!!!!!!!!!

9:52 PM: My partner is kind of pissed off at me for losing the game by accidentally knocking over all of our cups while showing off my sweet karate skills to some lady folk. They pretended like they weren't impressed, but I know the truth.

9:55 PM: I love this song! I'm gonna blast it.

9:57 PM: My stereo privileges have been taken away.

10:03 PM: More shots! What is this? Vodka? Who cares, I don't got shit to do tomorrow.

10:06 PM: Riding Jimmy's dog like a horse. Ye haw!

10:09 PM: Just got yelled at by some girl for opening the bathroom door while she was taking a shit. And yes I do know how to knock, I just forgot. Jeez.

10:22 PM: Time to hit on some chicas. I'm a wee bit drunk, but I can pull it off.

10:32 PM: I just talked to this girl for ten minutes and have no idea what she said or what her name is. I only know what she looks like -- oh shit she turned around, I forgot which one was her.

10:44 PM: OK, no numbers, but I did make this one girl laugh when I slipped on the kitchen floor and hit my head. I think I might have a concussion.

10:46 PM: More shots!

10:56 PM: I should probably take a little power nap so I don't get too wasted and act like a fool. This bed looks comfy.

10:57 PM: Shit, someone's in that bed with a girl and they do mind if I take a nap there. I'll try the next room.

12:34 AM: Whoops, that was a bit more than a power nap. Whoa, look at the time -- 1, 2, 3, 4. I must be the first person to ever notice that. Its all good though, I am back in partying shape!

12:50 AM: Went to grab myself a beer and everyone thought I left. I don't know why they acted so disappointed when they saw me again. Probably another joke.

1:02 AM: Did someone say beer bong!?

1:07 AM: How come no one wants to do a beer bong while I hold it?

1:10 AM: Fine. I'll do it. Just one though, I don't want to get too drunk. Why are you pouring a bottle of whiskey into the funnel..?


1:37 AM: Fuck it, I guess I'll shotgun a beer to spice things up for this party.

1:38 AM: Sorry lady, I didn't mean to spray Keystone Light all over your cocktail dress. Maybe you shouldn't have stood so close to me.

1:45 AM: What? There's a pool here? Sa-weet!

1:51 AM: Hey everyone! Watch me jump into the pool from the roof!

1:53 AM: Maybe not the best idea. Which way is my left foot supposed to point?

1:59 AM: A shot of Everclear should make this pain go away. Fuck it. Make it two.

2:12 AM: hdlwh dlHLf fhk klfhew;qw nwd90k!

2:20 AM: Right now would be an opportune time to text my ex-girlfriend and tell her I still love her.

2:34 AM: Everyone's leaving and my head and foot still hurt. This might be my last chance to run some game at chicks. Better hurry.

2:35 AM: Running with a probable broken foot is NO FUN AT ALL.

2:39 AM: They skedaddled into their cars and sped away. Definitely lezbooooos!

2:48 AM: Have you ever noticed how weird your hand is if you look at if for a while?

2:56 AM: There's just a few of us left, but I know how to get this party rolling again. I'm gonna down that bottle of Captain Morgan to impress everyone. I bet they give me a round of applause.

2:58 AM: Gotta barf! I don't want anyone to make fun of me so I'll casually announce that I'm going to the men's restroom.

3:00 AM: ARGGGGGGGG! BLAGGGGG! (Barf noises)

3:12 AM: Feel much better. Who wants to wrestle?

3:33 AM: Just got thrown threw a window.

3:35 AM: No one is helping me and I can't get up. No worries, I'll just pass out here on the ground covered in glass and shame.

3:37 AM: Zzzzzzzzz

11:28 AM: What the fuck happened last night and why are there penises drawn all over me?

Thursday, October 15, 2009

No. 75 "Ways To Be Hotter (For Chicks)."

Good afternoon lady folk, I am glad you came here today to learn how to be hotter. Now I'm sure most of you are beautiful in your own right, (great personality) but could use some tips to boost your value so as to attain rich men with luxury cars and platinum credit cards. Well, I am here to help. As a man* I can give you some beneficial advice on how to become more attractive to your male counterparts. Now I know you have short attention spans, but try to give this five minutes.

If you are not at least a 7 to begin with, none of these awesome tips will be helpful because you will just gross everyone out and look like a fool. Just stop reading, eat a jar of marshmallow cream and cry yourself to sleep. :)

Side Boob:
The best part of the breast really. Showing more side boob will most definitely make men pay more attention to you. (or at least your boobs) I know that it is hard to find outfits that show side boob without revealing the whole thing, but be creative. Take your favorite dress and carefully cut two holes on each side to show a little something-something and thus become 15% hotter. Double sided tape may be needed to pull this off, but I'm sure you're a trooper.

Sexy Outfits:
Now I know you're saying to yourself "I have plenty of sexy outfits I wear all the time!" Please stop yelling. I'm sure you do, but the sexy outfits I'm talking about are the ones you only wear once a year. That's right, your slutty Halloween costumes. Every now and then wear a nurse uniform or a tight race car driver outfit to spice things up and call attention to yourself. So what if people tell you it is inappropriate for a wake. Your cousin Jimmy is making googly eyes at you and he just got all of grandma's money. Ca-ching!

It's OK if you're not from another country or the south, just fake it. (you girls are good at that) When you meet a guy, just start talking in an British accent and use dialectic words like "mate," "cheers," and "wanker." You'll have the attention of every man in the room. If this turns into a serious thing, you may have to slyly lose the accent unless you want to talk that way for the rest of your life. Don't worry, guys probably won't notice because we never pay attention anyways. (Right?!)

Be A Sister/Best Friend To A Girl With A Boyfriend:
This one is easy. Every guy wants to bang his girlfriend's best friend or sister, (or both at the same time, high five!) and this makes you more attractive simply by being there. Its easy, everyone wants what they can't have. Just make sure to casually flirt with him and send him cute text messages so he knows what's up. Next thing you know you'll be getting railed by your soon-to-be ex-best friend's boyfriend and you got yourself a new man. Side effects include: being called a "dumb slut" and hair pulling.

Watch Sports:
"But I don't like sports! I like fashion and Gossip Girl!" What did I tell you about yelling? Anyway, you don't actually have to like sports. Just watch some football with a couple of your dude friends and cheer every 2-5 minutes, even if its just a commercial. Guys will love this and say things such as "Becky is cool as shit. She likes football and shit." Another tip to top it off: Wear eye black. (the stuff football players wear under their eyes) Its pseudo-gay that guys like this, myself included, but it is hot as shit on a chick for a reason the universe will never understand.

Drink Beer:
90% of Fortune 500 executives meet their future wives while playing beer pong***. How are you supposed to link up with a successful businessman if you don't drink beer? So what if beer has a lot of calories, just drink enough of it so you throw up. Problem solved. Guys love chicks that drink beer, it makes them awesome in a way that cannot be explained or described. Cranberry vodkas and Cosmos are cool and all, (no they aren't) but if you want to make an impression and gain hot/cool points, you best drink yourself some brewhaha.

This might just be a personal preference of mine, but pigtails are fucking hot! It looks sexy on a girl and can be used for other activities if you play your cards right. Pigtails may not be suitable for a cocktail party, but if you're just hanging out and want to look super sexy, pigtail that shit up. Also, porn star hair is another favorite of most men. I have no idea what its actual name is, (I'm sure you do though) but I know it takes a lot of time and effort to do. Even if you're an ugo, I'll give you a high five for sweet hair and effort.

Talk Less:
Just kidding. We men love when you talk about how everyone at work is dumber than you, the new Sex & The City movie, and your super cute new shoes. We eat that shit up.

That wasn't so bad was it? Now you will gain even more attention from the opposite sex and be described as "hot as fuck" by males all over. I hope my tips help you attract a financially stable guy or least a dude with a job. Just remember to show side boob, wear nurses outfits, work on a sexy accent, make a friend with a boyfriend, watch football, drink brews, rock pigtails and talk less about dumb shit. Easy, right?

*Being a man does not include: changing a tire, fixing appliances or holdling a job. It just means I am over the age of 18.
**Warning: Do not attempt to use a Boston/New Jersey accent, as it will annoy the fuck out of everyone in the room.
***Based on a study I made up.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

No. 74 "Great Idea #1."

I just came up with this great idea! Its kind of like a bar, but instead of being able to just walk inside you have to get to wait in line for an hour while you wear clothes you hate wearing and get judged by large strangers with clipboards. Once you get in though, that's where the awesomeness really begins. Why be able to just order a drink and receive it in a timely matter when you can wait much longer and have to physically grab a bartender to put in your drink order? And instead of paying a reasonable price for a beverage you can exchange your entire paycheck for twelve ounces of imported beer. It gets better, you won't have to deal with making conversations with friends and girls because the obstreperous techno music will make it utterly impossible to communicate with anyone. Who needs air conditioning when you can sweat your balls off and breath B.O. from a variety of different people. And fuck being able to sit down or have a table, you get to stand up and get bumped into by roided-out men in bedazzled t-shirts. The women that frequent this place will be much different than any chicks in bars. They like to play a silly game where they ignore you and act rude to you because you don't drive a Mercedes. This place will also have something called a "dance floor" where one can make a fool of themselves attempting to rid the world of the stereotype that white people cannot dance.

I call this great idea a "club."

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

No. 73 "You're Welcome, Bob Barker."

I finally got my dog Buddy neutered the other day after putting it off for over two years and tricking myself into thinking that I could monetize his seed. When I sat him down to tell him the bad news he didn't take it exactly how I imagined. Instead of pleading to change my mind and throwing himself on the ground he just looked at me strangely with an expression that said: "Bro, you got food or not? You're wasting my time" and then pleasured himself. Like father, like son.

Unfortunately for Buddy there wasn't another option to getting neutered. He doesn't have the skills (or opposable thumbs) needed to pull-out properly. I thought about telling him to just have butt-sex, although I'm pretty sure dogs don't have two holes. I'm not a connoisseur of the sexual anatomy of dogs so I thought I'd just stay away from that one. And they do not make condoms for dogs that I know of. I attempted to create a make-shift doggy condom using a Doritos bag and a hair-tie but was vastly unsuccessful.

My mom pretty much forced me to get Buddy neutered after she made a bargain with me that someone was going to get neutered in the near future, me or my dog. As annoying as my balls are when it's 110 degrees outside while I'm wearing silk underwear I decided to go with the latter.

I wanted to take Buddy to the dog park to let him have one last screw before his manhood was taken away. (And I'm not talking about marriage.) Things didn't go as I had planned because every time that I went up to someone and asked casually if my dog could fornicate with theirs, I was given a dirty look and called a "sick bastard." After multiple tries and eventually being escorted from the park I gave up and bought Buddy a prostitute.

Apparently hookers aren't into beastiality. Since when do women whose incomes come from sucking hobo's dicks have morals? Another mystery of the universe I suppose. No final screw for Buddy before the castration. After I banged the hooker I made an appointment for Buddy with the scrodem guillotine and was on my way.

I learned that I had to check Buddy into this ball-cutting-off-facility (or whatever it's called) at 7:30. You must be asking yourself: "7:30 at night? That's kind of late, dude" Well dude, I was equally as confused, but soon learned that it was in the A.M. The last time I was up at 7:30 in the morning I was coming down from 'shrooms, and I certainly was not in the proper state of mind to be driving to pet hospitals.

Once I awoke for the big day, I woke up Buddy and grabbed his leash. He thought I was going to take him on a stroll at dust. Needless to say, my dog doesn't know me very well. I put him in the car and I drove down to the pet hospital. Buddy kept looking out the window at parks I continued to pass and gave me a confused look as if to say: "Dude, you've missed like ten parks, what the fuck?"

I finally got to the pet hospital and had to check in and fill out paperwork, while Buddy barked at other dogs and attempted to attack them. I have a feeling the conversation went something like this:

Buddy: "Hey you! Dog over there! What is this place?"

Other Dog: "Dude, he didn't tell you? This is where they chop off our balls so we can't bang bitches no more."

Buddy: "No fucking way! Owner with brown hair (I assume he doesn't know my name since he's a dog) would never do that do me!"

Other Dog: "Well, sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but that's what is about to happen."

Buddy: "You lie! I'll kill you mother fucker! Bark! Bark! Bark!"

Just a guess, but I'm pretty sure that's how it went down. Anyway, after I filled out the paperwork that Buddy kept trying to knock off of my lap, I gave Buddy over to some woman who coerced me through guilt and eyebrow raises to purchase expensive pain killers. I looked around this pet hospital and not a man could be found. The secretary was a woman, the technicians were women and the mean paperwork bitch was a woman. I have a feeling that these broads get some sort of kick out of de-balling dogs. Just a thought...

Later that day, the secretary interrupted my mid-afternoon nap to let me know that Buddy was dead. Just kidding. You almost cried for a second didn't you? Pussy. She told me that Buddy was ready to be picked up and after napping for an additional thirty minutes I left and picked his castrated ass up.

He was really timid and probably high from all the medication he was on. Unfortunately it does not work for humans. Believe me, I asked. They recommended coerced me into buying a cone so his self esteem would fall even lower. I bought it because it would make a great toy to put on drunk people and I enjoy seeing my dog bump into walls.

And bump into walls he did. After laughing hysterically and taking numerous pictures I gave it a rest and finished the rest of my nap. He looked so sad in that cone though. I wanted to take it off of him but knew he'd just start licking the empty sack his where balls used to dangle and create an infection on himself and my wallet. Luckily, he only had to wear his retard cone for a couple days and was very happy to be able to walk around the house without knocking over glass vases. Its like when a pregnant woman finally pops out her baby. No more knocking over shit on tables. I'm sure it's a nice feeling, but I'm never going to be castrated or pregnant so I'll never know.

Overall, I'm glad I got Buddy neutered. He's calmer now and I don't have to worry about paying for a doggy abortion (or performing one myself.) If I learned one thing from this experience it is this: If the animal kingdom had laws, all male dogs would be convicted rapists.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

No. 72 "Promasturbation."

Alright, OK, lets do this. Test tomorrow and I have to get a good grade. I've got my textbook that I just bought today, despite being enrolled in the class for over two months. I have three two pages of notes, most of which is doodles of boobs and sharks with sunglasses. It's all good though, because I have my textbook now. Lets see... the test is over only four chapters, that shouldn't be too hard, probably only like forty pages, I can read forty pages no problem.

What the fuck? Two hundred and thirty-nine pages!? OK, that's not too bad, its like reading three Maxim's, without the scantily clad women. Speaking of which, I think the newest issue is out, I'll just go check the mail. No. I have to study.

Before I study though, I should have a little fun, let off a 'lil steam. Just to get it out of my system so I don't procrastinate. I'll play a little XBOX, but... I'll play Call of Duty which is an educational game since it's about WWII, and so is my test, I think. Talk about killing two birds with one stone. Die Nazi Zombies! Die!

Perfect. I had my fun and I learned a little about WWII. Nazi Zombies are hard to kill and grenades don't do the trick. I wonder if that will be a question on the exam? Now I'll just sit down, skim through the book and pay attention to the words in bold. Those are the only important ones anyways. I'll just memorize the bold words and be fine. Those other words are useless anyway. Let's just find myself a comfortable chair and enjoy some nice quiet reading on a Thursday night.

Three pages in and I have
already memorized five important bold terms, I'm gonna fuck this test in the ass! Hell yeah! I deserve a break for doing so well. Sportscenter it is.

Wow, I didn't realize it was a ninety minute episode, but it's all good. Back to studying. I better check out that study guide Professor Iforgothisname gave out to everyone. Ugh, six pages, on both sides? This dude doesn't fuck around. Its not problem though, I'm smart, I got like a 1080 on the SAT and I was hungover when I took it. Nobody in the testing area seemed impressed though. Where was I? Oh yeah, time to go over the study guide. None of the bold words are in the study guide. I think I might strangle this professor, that is just cruel.

Well, maybe I don't need to read all the assigned chapters, it's mostly fluff anyway. I'll just use the study guide and book as a reference. I should have done this in the first place. Shit, none of the study guide questions are in the text. Did I even get the right book? Oh, this is a Maxim, whoops. Fuck the book, I'll just use the internet machine to find all the answers. It has served me well for my masturbatory needs and should help me out with this gay ass study guide.

Internet up and I'm ready to go. I'll just check my Facebook real quick. Damn, that hot chick still hasn't responded to my friend request. She probably just got caught up looking at my awesome pictures and reading my hilarious, yet ironic "About Me," and forgot to hit "Accept." It's all good though, I'll just send her a message saying "What up" and end with a winkey smiley face. Bitches eat that shit up.

Back to what I was suppose to do, look over my Facebook. Oh, John's having a "killer bad-ass kegger" tonight. That sounds bad-ass and killer, maybe I should stop by and say hello. OK, I will, but I have to do at least half of the study guide and be back before midnight. That will give me incentive to get this study guide done. High five, self!

Question number one, prepare to die at the hands of my friend Wikipedia. I wonder what college kids did before Wikipedia? Probably had to check out those rectangular things with words at that place where they hide the books. Shit, forgot what that's called.

Damn, Wikipedia doesn't know the answer. Maybe if I type the exact question into Google it will have an answer for me. Better yet, I bet some smart nerd created a website with all the answers to the questions on the study guide because he was bored and not busy getting laid.

I guess I was wrong before. No one seems to know what Europe's ethnography before 1500 had to do with the industrial revolution. I better look up what ethnography means first before I prepare an answer.

It is a methodological strategy used to provide descriptions of human societies, which as a methodology does not prescribe any particular method (e.g. observation, interview, questionnaire), but instead prescribes the nature of the study.


I'll just skip that one. I'm pretty sure even the professor doesn't know the answer to that one. It was probably just a joke. That silly fuck. I'll go through the short questions and then come back to these stupid long ones that hurt my head.

What is the capitol of Denmark?
Pfft... easy, Amsterdam.

When was the War of 1812?
Trick question, there never was a War of 1812, dumb ass.

This shit is easy, I don't even need to use my book or computer. I'm just a smart mother fucker.

Look at that, half way done with the study guide. Now its time to party. I'll have a beer or two, talk to some attractive females, and then come back in time to finish this study guide and get a full night's rest. This whole college thing is fucking easy.

Back from the party. Woo! That was fun. Drank more than I planned to, and ran over a manikin or something on my way home, but it's all good. I almost got some chick's number after I did that super sweet keg stand, but she left quickly after I barfed on in her purse. Her loss. What time is it? 3:30? Shit. Better get back to studying. Now that I don't have any distractions I can study in peace.

Before I get back to studying I should probably check Facebook again and see if that hot chick accepted my friend request. God dammit. What is wrong with this hoe? You know what? I'm gonna write her a message and tell her to fuck off. Yeah, that'll get her to notice me. Message sent. Back to stud-- whoa... a Youtube video of someone popping the world's biggest zit. Studying can wait, I gotta see this.

Holy shit, that was gross, why the hell did I watch that for ten minutes? Fuck you, Youtube. I need to finish this study guide, the test is in five hours. These questions seem more difficult to read than before, I can't figure out why. I'll just sound out the words. Back to the internet to solve my study guide woes. Google, time to help me out, homie.

List the ways Abigail Adams helped America gain independence.
Who the fuck is Abigail Adams? She sounds like a porn star. I wonder if this is another joke question from the professor. I'll search "Abigail Adams porn star" and see what comes up.

Nope, she was some president's wife. Damn, that would have been a fun question. I'll just skip that one for now and go on the the next one. That one sucks too, I'll skip that one. Shit, all these questions suck, why am I in this class? I wonder if anything will come up if I Google myself.


Lets see... my Facebook, Myspace, Twitter, arrest report? Shit. That's public? I hope my mom never googles me. That came out wrong, I think I might still be drunk.

You know what? I can't study when I'm still drunk. I'll just take a quick power nap, finish this study guide and then buttfuck this test. (No homo.) That's all I need, just a little shut eye. You can't take a test if you are too tired, this is a grand idea.

Ah! What a great power nap. I feel more powerful because of it, maybe that's where it got it's name. Now time to finish this study guide. Let me just check the time and I'll be on my way to academic success. 8:30!? Shit. Fuck. Cunt. The test is in thirty minutes. OK. OK. OK. Calm down, I'll just study quicker.

Fuck it, I'll just email the professor, tell him my grandma died and make up the test next week. Sorry grandma, I gotta kill some Nazi Zombies.

Updated 7/20/10
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