Wednesday, January 21, 2015

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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.

Monday, January 12, 2015

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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.

Tuesday, January 6, 2015

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O_o

Gee willikers, man.  When your phone doesn't even have the heart to tell you the highest temperature that it could possibly be outside, it's confirmation that everything is awful and we are all going to die.

You know that feeling when you step outside in the morning and your nostrils freeze together and your eyes start tearing for no reason?  Well, it's here now and we have no one to blame but ourselves.  We all could have left and moved to Florida, Texas, California or Arizona.  But nope, we're dumb.  We keep saying, "Hey, it won't be anywhere near as bad as last year" and trudge along through our lives.  But here we are again.  More specifically, here EYE am again, in the midst of becoming diseased with Seasonal Affective Disorder for, like, the 23rd straight year.

Welp, guess it's time to inexplicably download that Dominos Pizza App.  Full disclosure, I hate Dominos, but this shit's so god damn convenient and times, well, times are certainly hard.

Friday, January 2, 2015

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What happens after this?  Does the game just abruptly end?  Do you quit the game of basketball forever?  

Personally, as a guy that has shot a few bricks in his day, I would blame it on everything but myself.  Blame the ball for being wild over-inflated.  Sue the referee for calling the foul and putting you in that precarious situation.  Immediately fake a very serious, slightly implausible injury that will confuse the audience.  Punch someone in the face to make people forgot that you shot a basketball so poorly that you almost killed somebody.  Who knows, I'm just spit balling here. 

Thursday, January 1, 2015

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Good heavens, Play Doh.  What the hell has gotten into you guys?  Last I checked, you were in the non-toxic clay business.  The boring, smelly, dickless clay business.  It appears things have drastically changed.  You nasty bastards.

I need an audio stream of the product design meeting where they approved the PENIS ICING DISPENSER.  Dudes in suits glossing over penis-related details left and right.  Imagine, as a dad, walking into your daughter's room on Christmas and seeing her squeeze this onto a cake.  The next immediate move would be to buy several grenades and at least 3 AK-47s and kill everything.  You want that holiday blood on your hands, Play Doh?

And you guys had the nerve to put propellers on the base too, giving little boys false hope that their penis will someday allow them to fly.  SMDH.

Wednesday, December 31, 2014

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In case you missed it, 2014 was a dumpster fire. Super trash.

We lost TWO planes.  But, you know,  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.  Donald Sterling brought racism back to the NBA because, my god, did we miss it.  No one thought "Redskins" was offensive.  Ebola happened, then we all Googled it, and got scared about pooping blood.  Oh, can't forget those crazy ISIS bastards.  Horrible.  And then, without fail, racism happened again.  All of sudden, police officers started killing black people like hotcakes.  Hotcakes, I say!

Iggy Azalea and Macklemore are also the songbirds of rap.  Drake got smacked by Diddy and also did this:


On the flip side we got Bobby Shmurda, who almost single-handedly saved 2014 with the Shmoney Dance:


Almost...




But then we realized "Hot N***a" was the highest charting murder/gun storage confession track of all time and we lost our hero.

Cheers to another great year of random blog hiatuses, overt racism/sexism/everything-ism, violence and disaster.  All in all, it was hot basura.  Luckily we get another one tomorrow.  Let's try not to screw up 2015, guys.  Plus I promise to blog more.

Friday, December 12, 2014

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Good lord, man.  These ambiguous blobs of nitrate-free "treats" have set an almost unattainable level of whiteness.  Even Whole Foods would scoff at this like, "Oh wow, we..we just can't sell these."

But you know what?  These are a great way to set the bar EXTREMELY low for children.  Basically perfect for when you want them to have a childhood, but you secretly don't love them/care about their happiness.

Very curious to know what a gingerbread woman even looks like.  Boobs or nah?  Just trying to ask the important questions out here.

Thursday, December 4, 2014

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Mike Brown

Mike Brown's family this past Thanksgiving without their baby

Clear, vivid, and disturbing image of Eric Garner getting choked to death by the NYPD

Eric Garner's last words.

(Let's take a break from the dick jokes, cute animals, and strange, yet hilarious, banter.  The world is turning into a terrifying place right before my eyes.)

Look, I don't hate the police.  I was raised to revere them - to love them.  My father is a retired law enforcement official and still holds the spot as the best man that I know.  Although life was not great for him, he made sure that he raised a pragmatic and intelligent son.  He kept me safe, but not sheltered.  He made sure to teach me right from wrong, but, most importantly, he pulled back the curtain.  

For years I wondered why my father always told me to keep my wallet in my front right pocket (I'm right-handed).  At first I thought it was just a comfort thing, but then I slowly realized it was a precautionary measure.  While attending high school in a predominantly white area, I asked many of my friends where they kept their wallets. Most said they kept theirs in back because that's the only way they've seen it done - a respectable answer, but also a privileged answer.  Their fathers didn't have to worry about their kids getting shot when they were reaching for their wallet because the cop thought it was a gun like my father did.  They also didn't have to worry about walking alone on the street late at night.  Or being deemed "suspicious" for wearing certain clothes.  For awhile, I was naive.  I thought that if "I stayed out of trouble" and "kept a low profile", everything would be alright.  
Every day is a dice roll for every individual that walks the planet.  But, for me and others that look like me in the United States, the die are a bit more weighted.  After the recent events that have taken place in Ferguson and NYC, it has become abundantly clear that my life's value is much lower than I thought it was.  Again, naivety.  Like many others, I thought "WE MADE IT" when President Obama was elected.  I thought racism (overt and subtle) was on the way out.  It's not.  It's just reformulated and re-purposed.  Even though I've stayed out of trouble and kept a low profile, I can be dead tomorrow.

I'm not a lawyer and I'm not going to pretend to be (same goes for you, fake Facebook political analysts - newsflash, you all look like idiots), but lives were lost and repercussions were not administered.  A family was without their son and children were without their father this past Thanksgiving.  Trayvon Martin's parents had to spend another year filling that void in their hearts.  Legal system aside, that is some sad shit.  Imagine your dad, brother, friend not being around this Thanksgiving/Christmas and every holiday thereafter.  It's heartbreaking.  And I know that could have been and still could be me.  I wear hoodies, I listen to rap music out of the car, and I'd attempt to break up a fight if I saw one on the street (barring the situation).  But preconceived notions, man.  I'm a SERIOUS threat because I'm a reasonably stout, young black male and there is no way that I can shake that.

Please, everyone that reads this, take note of what I'm saying here.  Don't hit me back with "All Lives Matter"  (that's like running into a random funeral and yelling that you've experienced loss, too) or comment any stupidity on this post because I won't be having it.  Just read and absorb perspective from the other side of the lawn.  Ask questions.  Reach out to people and say "hey man, how are you?"  Shit like that goes a long way.  I implore you that this is not the time to argue.  Lives were lost, families were destroyed and cultures have been rattled.  It's bigger than all of us now.  

Thanks for reading.

Sunday, November 30, 2014

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First off, why is a hot dog rolling onto the court in a wheely cart at Cameron Indoor?  Just doesn't seem like the most logical move.  But obviously that's not what we're getting at here.  This hot dog has some SEVERE problems.

What's more American than wrapping an American flag around your body and cannibalizing yourself in front of thousands of teenagers returning from Thanksgiving break?  Honestly, I can't think of anything.  With that said, dude is determined.  He even has that biting-my-lower-lip-because-I'm-working look going.  He really wants to make sure he's delicious before he tries eating himself.

All in all, none of this makes sense and, frankly, I'm a little disturbed.  Regardless of what happens on the court today, little Timmy will always remember his first basketball game when a hot dog accessorized itself with condiments before eating its own body.

(Using a push cart to wheel your suspiciously phallic lower body is kind of a beast move)

Monday, November 24, 2014

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About two weeks ago, there was a 4.8 magnitude earthquake in some of the flyover states (sorry, coast or die). As most people know, earthquakes are the price California residents pay for dramatic ocean views and beach access, in addition to crippling mortgages and rents, and extra taxes and regulations.

Since the rise of fracking, earthquakes have been driving people in other parts of the country into doorways and under desks and tables, thanks to the shoving of water and chemicals into the ground with enough pressure to decapitate a dinosaur from 18 miles away. Because we're running out of energy sources and [many more politically inflammatory comments about money, Big Oil, government, and why not throw in OPEC, too]. 

So, since people outside California (and sometimes Washington and Oregon, I guess) don't have the involuntary earthquake detection factor, it's shocking and nobody thinks to be prepared. Certainly not the people in Kansas and Oklahoma. Someone called 911 after his recliner moved eight inches across the floor. 

Another resident reported that every ornament on her Christmas tree shook. This was on November 12. This is the real story: someone had her Christmas tree up and fully decorated by November 12. Is that a thing people do? Are we all supposed to have our trees up before Thanksgiving? I guess I'll start counting down to 2015 right now.