B) Somebody finally gave the homie, Pedobear, a real, actual job. It's been too long, my g. Too long.
Jokey jokes aside, Jesus Christ, Japan. What in the shit is wrong with you guys? Were regular nurses no longer viewed as "hot in the streets" anymore? Are you guys trying to expedite the inevitable robot takeover? Either way, this is bad news (BEARS). Come see me in the streets if you're not about the #dadjoke puns. Frankly, I was convinced we were going out via Skynet style robots shooting laser beams. Not by some bears that look like they belong on the anime block of Adult Swim, but such is life.
It goes without saying, but I have been listening to a whole lot of Ja Rule on this glorious Friday. Really making a day of it, actually. More specifically, I've been listening to an intense amount of "Put It On Me." And by "intense amount", I mean I've listened to it like 6 times in a row. Look, I know that's not advisable, healthy, or remotely sane, but a jam is a jam. My hands were tied.
So, after listening to this damn song a thousand times, I started getting some ideas. Yes, most of these "ideas" can be classified as "COKE DREAMS" or something of that ilk, but they were ideas nonetheless. With that said, I immediately began to convince myself that "Put It On Me" was quite possibly the greatest romantic ballad of all time. You can see it play out in real time on my Twitter:
break the mold and replace your vows with the lyrics to Ja Rule's "Put It On Me" this upcoming wedding season
— WJ (@WMsDiary) February 20, 2015
watch grandma's eyes light up as you let out a grizzled scream of "WHAT WOULD I BE WITHOUT CHU, I ONLY THINK ABOUT CHU"
— WJ (@WMsDiary) February 20, 2015
hey guys, we kind of really fucking dropped the ball in not recognizing "Put It On Me" as the greatest romantic ballad of all time
— WJ (@WMsDiary) February 20, 2015
Existential crisis or brilliant realization? You decide. Just kidding, it was brilliant. So brilliant that I truly suggest changing the game this wedding season and let Ja take the reigns in expressing your love to your future life partner. Gone with the boring "I will be by your side until my last breath" and in with the "CUZ EVERY THUG NEEDS A LADY" I say. It's 2015, be your own person a little bit.
Face it, you planned a wedding, spent a shit ton of money, and you're exhausted. You don't have time to get the creative juices flowing to form truly meaningful and heartfelt vows. Ja did that so hopefully you won't have to go through that.
It's safe to say that, as a dude, shopping with any type of woman is the worst experience ever. We know all too well that "I just want to look at this dress" is a cryptic and extremely complex message that essentially means "Your soul belongs to me for the next 2-3 hours." And you know what? We go because we're scared, guys. We're really scared.
In the rare occasion that I have to shop for anything, I either dart into the store and buy it within 5 minutes or have a mild panic attack and become stricken with anxiety for 15 minutes. In both instances, I'm in and out reasonably quickly. Everything changes when your mom, girlfriend, friend that's a girl, or sister brings you into a store, though.
Shopping with girls is an adventure akin to one of those "Choose your own fate" Goosebumps books. Trips filled with plot twists, secret traps, and tough decisions. Mess around and end up in Narnia if you're not careful.
First off, I may be killed for even writing/having an opinion on this, but Beyonce is officially not a perfect robot with a whimsical combination of hue, glisten, and shine. She's just a regular, extremely attractive, semi-perfect person with occasional robotic tendencies.
Needless to say, the Beyhive is not pleased. Not pleased at all. And by "not pleased at all", I mean that I'll probably be dead before I hit publish on this and my internet remains will be scattered all over social media as a form of "don't try us" symbolism. Conversely, I'm pretty sure some members of the Beyhive have sent out the three-skull-emoji salute to indicate that they're "literally dead because they couldn't even right now." All in all, this is a blood bath with no real winners.
Or, if we are being red 100 emoji with this, Jay-Z is the only loser based solely on this picture:
YAAASS hunny, you BETTER WERK! Hov is in a crisis, y'all - standing in that "bad betch" Instagram pose that more or less indicates 200 likes or bust. The Knowles-Carter Foundation is bursting at the seams. I may never listen to "The Blueprint" again.
Ending your season with a -9 PER and shooting 2-13 from the 3pt line in a game filled with open uncontested three pointers is the perfect icing on an otherwise underwhelming season.
Despite the Knicks win percentage being at a "God damn! You're fired" batting average, we can't forget the contributions you made to the organization this year:
Can't forget that time Melo hid 5 golden tickets in boxes of Honey Nut Cheerios to give a group of lucky kids a magical journey inside the General Mills factory.
Or when Melo starred opposite Kevin Kline in "Wild Wild West", in an effort to thwart Dr. Loveless' dastardly schemes.
Or when Melo was feeling extra benevolent and took in little orphan Annie.
And last but not least, we can't overlook that time Melo and his partner, Launchpad McQuack, repeatedly saved the world. Also invented the phrase, "Let's get dangerous." Wild iconic.
So I watched "Kobe Bryant: The Interview" last night and came away with a few things. For one, Kobe is the most self-aware asshole that I have ever seen. Can't help but respect it. Kobe also looked to be completely annoying on the court in a multitude of ways throughout his career. I guess you can say that this goes hand-in-hand with the "asshole" thing, but he just kept talking to people that didn't want to talk. Not trash-talk, per se, just bothering people. He basically followed the arc of everyone's little brother his first six years in the league, then became everyone's horrible older brother that was verbally abusive for the next 10, and now he is the sagely grandpa giving advice to people that didn't ask for any. It's fascinating.
The main takeaway from "The Interview", though, is the full understanding that Kobe Bryant is 100% going to die on the basketball court in the very near future. Dude doesn't know how to say no and can't really do anything BUT play basketball. We're like 18 months away from watching Kobe come down the court in the 2nd quarter of a November regular season game and having his arm fly off mid-jump shot. Knowing Kobe, he'll call a time out with one arm, go in the crowd to find his other arm, reattach it, and come back on the court demanding the ball. This will keep happening until the dude just disintegrates into a pile of dust or spontaneously combusts like a putty from the Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers.
Regardless, it's going to be a super depressing, mildly hilarious ride to the great beyond with the Black Mamba (shout out to self-appointed nicknames, too *high fives self for creating Dub Jeezy*).
Looks like I messed around and fell down a terrifying internet worm hole. No one to blame but myself in this instance. Sometimes you flip over too many stones and end up finding out you look like overweight R&B singers and Lil’ Flip.
As a result, I’m inconsolable. I tried to log off of my computer several times, but the images keep replaying in my head. No matter what picture of myself I choose, I’m still some horrible humanoid concoction of people I simply don’t have respect for. And let’s not forget the big elephant in the room here, guys. Forty years old. PicTriev didn’t even blink an eye when it came up with that number. In fact, nothing on my phone has ever loaded faster than my “assumed” age based solely on my picture. 4G LTE must have been waiting years for the perfect opportunity to fuck my life up.
Since everything ultimately has no meaning anymore, I figured I’d just look at all of my look-alikes and break down how horrible I feel about each one. You know, as a healing exercise or something.
Allen Iverson: 19%
Can’t be too mad at this one for my #1 look-alike. By all accounts, AI was considered a handsome dude when he was dominating the NBA and scaring the bejesus out of white people. It may be a reach, since I can’t effectively grow facial hair without looking like a homeless, but I’m not upset with this.
Antoine Dodson: 15%
And just like that, the train has fallen off the tracks. One second you’re an NBA scoring champion, the next you’re Mr. Hide Yo’ Kid, Hide Yo’ Wife. Absolutely no idea if this dude is dead or live right now.
As you will come to find out, this androgynous bastard highlights a troubling theme that will come up later in my look-alikes list. Spoiler alert: this shit said I look like Jill Scott, yo.
Busta Rhymes: 7%
If it was 1999, this would be pretty sweet. We’d be wearing our JNCO jeans, deliberating about posing as lesbians in AOL chat rooms, and Busta Rhymes would still be relevant. Too bad it’s 2015 and my last decent memory of Bussa’ Bus is him falling off a stage and cracking his head open because of vertigo or some shit.
Rashad Evans: 7%
Not familiar with MMA, but I’m fairly certain that this dude delivers serious fades for a living. In all honesty, I can get behind that. He scares the shit out me, but I can rally off of this information. Minus the blockhead look and the blank concussed stare, being confused with an MMA fighter can only result in less scuffed shoes at the bar.
Shannon Brown: 7%
“Hey Dub, anyone ever tell you how much you look like that guy that looked like a shittier version of Chris Brown and was trash at basketball?”
GTFOH. I mean, look at this shit:
Damon Dash: 6%
We’re back, baby! Right when I start to question my appearance and consider jumping off of various roofs, I get matched up with the .gif GAWD Dame Dash. Needed this morale boost desperately. When you’re spilling expensive vodka on video girls with piss poor moral values, life can’t be that bad, right?
Jill Scott: 6%
Never thought that I would reach this point, but I guess we’re here now. The internet thinks I’m 6% woman and, as we all know, the internet is rarely wrong about anything. Guess I give off a wild saucy, estrogen-filled vibe of a proud black woman or something. Or this site is horrible and incredibly disrespectful to people’s self-esteem. Frankly, I’m most upset about this because Jill Scott isn’t even hot and now I feel weird that I want to be favorably compared to a hot girl. But such are the times.
For the record, I’m definitely more of a Zoe Saldana, but who’s keeping score anymore.
Paul Pierce: 5%
If I could be frank, Paul Pierce is toilet water personified. No offense to his basketball prowess and legacy, but being aesthetically paired up with The Truth is on the edge of being more offensive than Jill Scott. Pictriev says I look 5% like I dude that has been stabbed 11 times in the face. According to that math, my face looks like it’s been stabbed ~.5 times. I’ve had some razor burn here or there, but god damn Pictriev. God. Damn.
Lloyd Banks/Lil’ Flip: 5%
Coupled these two together because, well, what really distinguishes them? Nothing to see here but two mid-tier, Butler University-esque rappers that had a couple of hits, but are currently playing at your nephew’s bat mitzvah. Don’t get me wrong, Lloyd Banks could rap his ass off at one point and Lil’ Flip made “Game Over” which was just a fantastic time, but these guys aren’t rappers to be associated with at any point in 2015.
On the pantheon of “people white people thought I looked like due to subtle racism”, I never got called any of these names. Now I’m all sorts of destroyed mentally. Should I wash my face extra hard tonight? Maybe I should buy glasses. At the very least, I need to consider “accidentally” injuring my face enough to require facial reconstructive surgery. Just set this thing ablaze and start from scratch. Jill Scott, bruh?
We all watched the Super Bowl - yada yada the Patriots won, Marshawn didn't get the ball, whatever. It's over. It's done with. What isn't done, however, is the hangover and the crippling realization that real life is still happening.
Can't argue about play calling and decision making when you're watching a dude in a shark suit fuck up some dance moves
— WJ (@WMsDiary) February 2, 2015
Left shark had not a god damn clue what it was doing out there. Just flailing about hoping 500 million people weren't focusing directly on him. Unfortunately for him, we were all watching. Dude lost it the second he smacked himself in the face with his fin. That was officially when the train fell of the tracks. Like most of us, when shit hit the fan, he immediately started doing the robot. And finally, he just assumed defeat and completely gave up before our eyes. It was a roller coaster ride of emotion through that six seconds that we can all relate to, even right now.
To you, wildly hungover Pats fan that threw up in the shower this morning- you are the left shark. Even me, the guy that inexplicably came into work during a blizzard, blew his nose, had a nose bleed and walked out of his office to go home - I am also left shark. We are all left sharks.
Lots to discuss here. Firstly, this "Dilemma" video is doing NUMBERS. Shit's flabbergasting. If we're being real with ourselves and push nostalgia aside, this song wasn't even that great. Catchy as hell? Yup. Actually a good song? No.
Bringing nostalgia back for a second, the combination of "Dilemma" and "I Need a Girl Pt. 1" all but confused me forever about women. The early 2000s made me really want a girlfriend while simultaneously making me never want a girlfriend. A confusing time indeed. Nelly wanted a chick with a man and a son even though he knew it was a terrible idea and Diddy was just fucking depressed. I had no idea what to think. But preteen boners be preteen boners, ya know?
Now to the subject of the picture - Kelly Rowland, what in the shit are you doing? You accidentally clicked on the Excel icon on your sidekick and you think you're texting Nelly via spreadsheet, you idiot. Nelly ain't trying to see your bomb-ass Excel macro at 2:45am. Unless you're playfully drawing ( - )( - ) boobs in these cells, Nelly wasn't going to parse through your regression analysis, ma.
Don't worry. We can learn from this, fellas. With all these new fangled dating apps and websites, it's hard to standout. Well lucky for you, WMD is here with foolproof Microsoft Excel game-spittin' tactics.
Change the game by sending that chick you met in the club during "MLK Jr. Ladies Get In Free" Weekend an excel document outlining all the ways you're going to change her life for the better in Q1. No need to thank me.
This goes out to all of the dudes out there that have had their girl walk into the gym when they were playing basketball. If this has happened to you, you know exactly where I'm going with this one.
When your girl comes to the gym to watch you play ball:
- you play irrationally hard and completely out of your comfort zone
- you quickly start sweating more than everyone else on the court
- your skills either increase or decrease significantly
- passing is ABSOLUTELY out of the question
- you will more than likely hurt yourself, but play it off like you're not actually hurt
- you start thinking of cool basketball Youtube videos you watched and inexplicably start trying those moves that you've never practiced
- other people (presumably dudes that are trying to steal your girl) are trying to clown you
- she honestly doesn't give a damn about what you're doing unless you're stinking up the joint
- if you're playing horribly, best believe she is calculating your PER and +/- to determine whether or not it's going to be a lonely night for you
- you're probably not going to play any type of defense because getting crossed is effectively grounds for breaking up
Moral of the story, don't ever play basketball in front of/with/or anywhere near your girl to prevent any of this from happening. No benefit to having them watch your games.
