Wednesday, October 1, 2014

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Got to hand it to the person that drew this comic - they went all in.  Probably realized that no one is reading print newspapers anymore and threw up a YOLO comic.  Hey man, we've been there.  A lot less overt racism and crude artistic depictions of world leaders, but we've been there.

Like, yeah, we get what you're trying to say with the intruder bathing behind Barry's shower curtain, but the other stuff was up to a bit of "artistic interpretation."  Aside from the obvious toothpaste jab, the monkey ears move was a "eh, I'm probably getting fired soon, let's get REAL racist with it."  I'm not even that mad about this because at least it wasn't another black dude getting shot at by a cop. Any time that doesn't happen we have to chalk it up as a win in 2014.  On a sidenote, I'm completely ok with the racist foods associated with black people.

Watermelon?  Refreshing and delicious.  Fried Chicken?  Possibly the best thing to ever happen to food.  Grape flavored beverages?  Tell me you won't do horrible things for a Welch's grape soda and I'll call you a liar to your face.

Good thing Boston's not known for having a rich history of racial unrest or anything.  Really dodged a bullet on that one.

Monday, September 29, 2014

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30 days, everyone!

Thursday, September 25, 2014

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Welp, cuddling is back, I guess. I don’t know how or when this happened, but obviously this is terrible news. It goes without saying that cuddling sucks. We didn't need this. I’d even go as far to say that people are living in a Golden Age of easily accessible, non-committal ass. Someone invented Tinder and people are able to arrange random sex with strangers from the comforts of their own couch. Then Cuddlr happened and it pooped all in the punch bowl.

But, since I’m all about that creep life and take my journalism seriously, I did the damn thing and downloaded the Cuddlr app to see what it was all about. (Spoiler: I got freaked out and almost immediately deleted it)

So I opened the app and instantly got hit with some bullshit:


Couple red flags:

1) Nah, yo. These egg people are giving off some troubling vibes. And by “troubling”, I of course mean “come back to my place so I can chloroform you, dump you in an ice bath and remove your kidney.”

2) An hour to accept? Someone who looks nice? What does any of this mean? If you’re going to cuddle with an organ harvester, you better dive face first into the act. Make that decision in 10 seconds or less.

How do you find a fellow cuddler, you ask? Apparently the same way you found enemy trainers in Pokemon Red.


Do we just cuddle right on the spot? Do you rent a motel? Should you get drunk first? I have no idea how this works. Either way, you might have to deal with the ramifications of random erections.


Wait, what? PG? I don’t feel comfortable using an app based solely on rubbing genitals if random erections are not socially accepted. Can you see the egg people’s hands in that picture? Exactly. Definitely some yolky funny stuff going on there.


Simply because I’m a competitor, I would strive to be the world’s greatest Cuddlr even though cuddling is fundamentally stupid and pointless. If that means working out less so I get fat, doughy and more cuddle-able then so be it. Perhaps I need go on eBay and buy a CD player so I can create cuddler-specific mixtapes for each of my meetings. There’s being a good cuddler and then there’s going the extra mile for that ‘thumbs-up.’

Now that I’ve pretty much transformed cuddling into a sport, let’s see what the deal is:


Ah, the old “we need your Facebook info so your girlfriend and all of your friends can see that you’re using an app to cuddle with strangers” trick. Not going to fall for it this time. With that said, it’s still worth poking around and seeing what the clientele is looking like. You know, for experimental reasons.


Let’s call a spade a spade - lots of dudes, including two infants. And a picture of two ninjas fighting each other with fences. It’s safe to assume that this app has a few kinks to work out in the user department. Shout out to Evie, though. Her phone battery must be hot to the touch with all the cuddle requests that must be rolling in. Basic only-chick-at-a-sausage-fest economics right there.

It may come as a surprise that I deleted the Cuddlr app about 45 seconds after downloading it, but it had to be done. They were asking about my government name and wanted to make me into a social pariah. Plus the egg people were VERY off-putting. Other than that, I can see this app going through some real struggles. Zero dudes actually want to cuddle, we all get erections, and, to be honest, we generally don’t smell awesome most of the time. The market is going to use this exactly like they use Tinder and that’ll bring about some hilariously horrible results.

Monday, September 22, 2014

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Don't know what else to say about this other than BRA-VO.  There are YOLO Mondays where you refuse to log-in to your computer for three hours and then there are YOLO Mondays where you come in, tell everyone that you literally don't give a fuck and leave on the spot.  I'm inspired, but not enough to actually do anything about anything.  I'll just applaud from afar and stare at my screen debating whether or not I should press Ctrl-Alt-Del to officially start this work week.  Shout out to Alaska for repeatedly letting us know that they are still a state, though.

Friday, September 19, 2014

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Take a walk down memory lane with me, as we reminisce about a special, completely inexplicable time of our lives – the body spray era. It was revolutionary and, at the time, life-changing.

THE GOLDEN AGE

The {insert cologne (but let’s be honest, it was Michael Jordan cologne)} grandma got you for Christmas just wasn't producing the results that you expected. Girls weren't any more interested and you didn't get better at basketball. It became abundantly clear that Michael fucking lied to us. Because there was no socially acceptable way to ask your parents to buy you cologne so you can increase your odds at at actually making out with a girl, there needed to be an alternative. Enter Axe Body Spray. It was cheap, efficient and the commercials were overtly sexual. You had us at cheap and boobs, Axe.

So, as 13 year olds, we collectively convinced ourselves that Axe smelled awesome, showers were optional and that girls would be all over us. Think about it, there is no cockier person alive than a middle-schooler that just sprayed half a can of Axe on their chest/stomach/balls right before homeroom. I’m convinced that kid would walk by me on the street right now, call me a pussy, and spit on my shoe for no reason. We were all beautiful birds that haven’t yet flown too close to the sun.

THE FALL

We all quickly became Axe lemmings. And by “lemmings," I mean that we were all smelly teenage assholes that basically lost all concept of reality. People straight up stopped showering after gym class, no one was getting ass as a result of Axe, and we started body spray shaming kids that used Bod Man Fragrance Spray. Shit was getting weird.

It was also starting to become evident that all the scents basically smelled the same. If you were able to truly decipher Phoenix from Essence from Touch to Kilo, you were lying and you were a horrible individual. The jig was officially up. The girls that we thought were laughing with us were actually laughing at us, our parents were legitimately starting to hate us and we probably lost a few years off our lives because we inhaled full containers of $4.99 aerosol deodorant. It was time to grow up.

THE AFTERMATH

Axe still exists and, by all accounts, is still thriving. As long as there are middle school boys looking to make their balls smell magnificent, there will always be a market for Axe. Like most businesses, though, Axe has had its fair share of ups and downs since we parted ways.

1. People almost died:



In defense of Axe, these kids need to step their respiratory system game up.

2. There are negative connotations surrounding Axe spray:







I'm sure we all have a half used bottle on our dresser at our parents’ house that we don’t have the heart to throw away. While the handjob forecast was wildly exaggerated, the memories were too fond to let go and toss in the trash.

Dear Axe Body Spray,

Haters gon’ hate, hate, hate, hate, hate.

Sincerely,

Dub

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

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This is big, nay, HUGE news.  Amid all of the chaos going on in the world we finally have something good to talk about.  We can type on fried chicken keys, y'all.  We made it.

Sure, maybe most of the keys don't have letters and all of them kinda resemble the same piece of chicken, but that's besides the fact.  The Colonel expects you to know the nuances of a standard QWERTY keyboard by now.  Also, do not for one second think that The Colonel action figure overlooking your typing prowess is lost on me.  It's so important that he's there.  So very important.

I basically reacted like a basic bitch at a Beyonce concert when it was revealed that the mouse and flash drive are drumsticks.  Screaming "I CAN'T even right now" all over the place to no one in particular.  There are game changers and then there are drumstick flash drives.

So it goes without saying that my new life goal is winning the KFC keyboard contest on the Japanese KFC website.  Everything else is currently cast aside.  Relationships, hygiene, work, etc. officially placed on timeout until this is all sorted out.

Once I figure out what Anime Colonel is saying, this shit is ON:


Monday, September 15, 2014

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Great and horrible news.  Great because we all get to pretend that we're 11 again, horrible because our bodies simply won't be able to handle it and we're all going to die.  A real coin-flip situation.

Pro: Relive the days where your had sleepovers with friends and someone's parents bought a 24 pack of Surge, three pepperoni pizzas and you spent all night infiltrating lesbian AOL chat rooms to unknowingly talk to other dudes.

Con: Yellow #5.  Granted, the whole "Yellow 5 kills your sperm" thing turned out not to be true, but against all odds, I still believe Surge can kill your sperm.

Pro: Actually that "con" above is a pro.

Con: Fast track to diabetes.  Since I am already resigning to the fact that I'm going to become morbidly obese at some point relatively soon, we might as well expedite the process.  If I have surgically removed feet, I don't have to walk anywhere.

Pro: This .gif that makes so little sense that it actually makes all of the sense:



Con: It honestly never tasted that good.  When you're a citrus flavored drink, you're kind of in purgatory from a taste standpoint.  You're not orange, grapefruit, or tangerine and live life with no identity.  Can't have a soda with no identity in 2014.

Your move, Pepsi Blue.

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Bags of sand, bro.  Bags of sand.

Welp, no going back from here, folks.  Yes, I realize it's Monday and we just went THERE, but I think this was important viewing for a number of reasons:

1)  Japan has left us in the Stone Age as far as weird sex shit goes.  I'm kind of upset about that from a patriotic standpoint.

2)  If (LOL, "if") this kid ever gets to the point in life where he touches real human breasts, I'm pretty sure he's going to be wildly confused/terrified if the girl is not in the arms-over-head position.

3)  How do you win this game?  Seriously, asking...for a friend.

4)  Did NOT like any of the sounds going on in this video one bit.  From the weird dubbed computer voice to the sound of the anime chick giggling, I feel like I need to go to church and take a shower.

5)  Have to give props to the Oculus business model, though.  The untapped market of repressed, introverted, and sexually frustrated teens and young twentysomethings is quite possibly a one trillion dollar industry.

Happy Monday!

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

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So this is a real text exchange that I had with one of my buddies.  He randomly flew out to Miami and had an awesome weekend galavanting around and shit.  Naturally, I was hatin' from afar, but jealous to the point that I had to know every move that he was making.  That's when these texts happened.

Take a quick look at this picture:


Now imagine walking up to (presumably) unapproachable girls, tapping them on the shoulder, showing them that picture and then making a hand phone on your face.  Preposterous, right?  A move I'd deem as downright psychopathic.  But you know what?  There's a good chance that it worked.  From the perspective of the girls, they don't know what the fuck just happened.  This guy basically bought 14 acres of land in your psyche and you don't even know if the move was hilarious or not.  You don't even have time to be creeped out.  The game has officially been changed.  

Stop wearing nice clothes, buying drinks or wearing cologne.  No need to smell good when you can just mash people's minds into confusion. 

Monday, September 8, 2014

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ZOMG.  Guys.  I think I'm blacking out.

*realizes what happened and takes a deep breath*

Ok, I got my shit together and can speak coherently now.  YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

*whoops, blacked out again*

So, back to the ducks.  Perhaps the intro wasn't exactly accurate to what we know and love, but ducks aren't capable of wearing monocles.  That's on us, guys.  Can't get an accurate Scrooge without duck monocles.  Huey, Louie and Dewey, on the other hand, killed it.  Those ducks were just waiting to get into some weird shit with their adorable little color-coded hats on.  Made me want to go to the pond and commit the unethical act of straight up stealing ducks.  Thankfully it didn't come to that, but there's always tomorrow because LIFE IS LIKE A HURRICANE HERE IN DUB WORLD.  Sorry.