Monday, May 31, 2010

"When the circumstances turned against me, I lost my enthusiasm for this city," said Raptors small forward Hedo Turkoglu. "My lawyers have talked to the front office recently. Honestly, I do not want to go back to Toronto. My lawyers talked to Mr. [Bryan] Colangelo and I hope that they will come up with a solution soon."

Damn that's gotta sting...So the nine-year veteran Turkoglu is currently signed to a five-year contract with Toronto. Those are some harsh words coming from someone who averaged just 11 points a game (career low) with 43.8 million dollars owed to him over the next four years.

Doesn't exactly seem like the best time for an already dismal franchise. Chris Bosh just spent his last days in Canada, and Turkoglu is openly doing everything in his power to ensure his exit while the door's still open. Looks like it's back to square one for the Raptors. At least season ticket holders will still have their disturbing mascot to look forward to.

How many bitter NBA players are out there right now? With all the free agents and trade requests going on, I think it's only appropriate for the league to completely re-draft through random NBA 2K selection. Thoughts?

Friday, May 28, 2010

// //

Ain't that a bitch?

Your moral constitution just gets attacked after what looked like an undoubtedly tough day of work in borderline bankrupt Greece. Do you keep driving risking the lives of rougly 700,000 frogs and a messy clean up just to get home, or do you wait out the "storm" of sorts? I'm just saying, I always have a high pressure hose handy for situations like these.

Seriously, if frogs mess with your Memorial Day drinking and galavanting, I sincerely apologize. The human mind isn't built to deal with dilemmas such as these.

Have a great weekend!

I don't care how much sleep you got, surge protectors are embedded in your brain within the first 4 hours you get to college. You pop in with you alarm clock, TV, Playstation, laptop, and an iron if you're classy. Low and behold, just one fucking outlet on your side of the room.

That's when surge protectors come in. Seems like an easy problem solver until you go to the campus store and the only one they have available is the super-mega-ultra surge protector that has the power to keep Las Vegas lit up. Oh it's only $49.99.

Come on college kid, get your shit together.

Thursday, May 27, 2010

// //

If Mike O'Malley came to my doorstep and challenged me to duel a pair of 12-year old international phenoms in a race to the top of the Super Aggro-Crag...I might just freeze. The Super Nova Irena and Tiger Rachel would destroy me...and also check out how Ricardo absolutely crushed that Tornado run. I was always intimidated by the challenging tasks in each Guts episode, but I certainly got discouraged when that shit went global. And did you hear what Mike had to say at 1:50...

"We are now at the Crag and boy has it evolved. First it was the Aggro-Crag and then it evolved into the Mega-Crag, now the SUPER - AGGRO - CRAG. Bigger, sharper, and filled with more surprises and more obstacles then ever before. Players begin in Boulder Canyon, where blistering blasts of venomous vapors erupt from the canyon floor. Then its up through Switch-Back Bend, with volcanic boulders ready to explode at the slightest touch. Lurking ahead, Avalanche Ledge. Ultra sharp fires and rumbling rocks, ready to roll. From there, its a hard solo on the ice wall straight through the falling sheet of snow protecting the Crag peak. And all the while, our players will be facing the sound, and the fury, of a molten volcano that is ready to blow! YOU WANT RULES!? I GOTCHA MO.....MO!!!"

Jesus Mike can I get you a glass of water or something? How are these kids ready to take on Indoor Everest after watching O'Malley practically pass out just describing it. I'd take my helmet off as soon as Mo started giving out the rules. If I did end up taking a shot I'd be done at Switch-Back Bend for sure with my own physical Guts all over the floor.

But seriously though, the Tiger is just gonna scale the Crag in less than 20 seconds? What the hell was that all about? Were NCAA coaches scouting Guts with hopes to bring in some early recruits? I don't know, but I think it might be a good time for the release of the Super-Mega-Aggro-How-The-Fuck-Do-I-Climb-This-Crag as part of the further revamped Guts 2010.
// //

This could easily be the worst post I have ever posted on this site or it could be some groundbreaking stuff.

I've been around the block before guys. I was around when "Reptar" was hot, so I know what a dinosaur costume is and is not supposed to look like. Plus it's during a baseball game, where unless any of the teams are named after dinosaurs this thing doesn't make sense. It had one realistic roar and the second one lacked a lot of luster. It was admittedly off-putting, but I stuck with the vid based on the shear realism of that costume. How much would it hurt a grown man's back to walk like that across a baseball field? And little kids are not able to produce the sound that thing made. Only explanation lies in the fact that there was a midget controlling this costume or this was a real dinosaur.

I was waiting for the ironic twist of the video where the dude in the yellow shirt heckling the dino just got ripped to shreds Deep Blue Sea-Samuel L. Jackson style.

// //

EMBED-Lazy Cat Coughs And Farts At Same Time - Watch more free videos

Yup. It did that.

I've been seeing more and more videos of cats casually chillin' sitting down. Not that it's a bad thing. I see it as progress. Sometimes you just want to relax and not have a furry, purring mess laying across your lap.

It's fine to just cool down and lean your back up against the couch too cats.

NOTE: I can't stop laughing at this video..
// //

Sometimes you can't make this stuff up. A phone number is straight up causing people to die. When you see the number it doesn't seem that weird because 0888-888-8888 is a fucked up phone number no matter how you cut it.

Imagine being at the bar, things going well, and it gets to the point where you exchange numbers with the girl. She gives you her number, all giddy and shit, spirits at their highest point. Then all of a sudden, you drop the 10 straight 8s on her. Talk about buzz-kill. There is no faker number out there aside from 000-123-4567. If you can somehow explain that as your real number you probably have a desperate girl, or more likely, you are going to get killed by this person.

I know you all have watched "The Ring" and if you didn't shit your pants you probably covered your eyes or left the theater. I'm getting close to Ring scared about this (I rate fear by how close it is to "The Ring"). We've all received a call from an "Unknown" number. Could have been Mr. Shit-ton of 8s on the other line. Eerie stuff...
// //

^sorry guys, this pic scares me too.

1-You're undoubtedly creeping: This one's obvious. Not really a shocker or anything mind-blowing. It's like a situation when you know you kind of smell and someone tells you that you smell. You knew you smelled, someone recognized it, and now you feel embarrassed even though you smelled like shit to begin with. It all starts with clicking that Facebook button in your bookmarks/favorites section. You don't know why you did it. You see that person X uploaded some new photos of Spring Break, you recognize that person X looks pretty good, and after 227 pics in a row, you just spent a week in Cancun. Like clockwork. You notice person Y wrote on person X's wall. What were they talking about you ask? Like Chris Brown did in '05, you're jumping from Wall-to-Wall. We all do it, nothing to be ashamed of.

2-You're super self-conscious about your pics: Saturday night got fuckin' crazy right? How crazy? Well according to Person X's pics, you pissed and vomited on yourself at the same time. There's also this incriminating pic of you making out with person Y at the staircase when you know your GF has a chance of seeing these pics. You detag that shit with the quickness, you have a rep to uphold. Girls are the main culprits. If you aren't looking pristine, there is no chance that picture will be up while someone is (see reason #1) checking out your pics. Oh and pictures with your eyes closed..forget about it.

3-You lost your fucking phone: I know co-blogger Mack touched on this awhile back, but this shit is an epidemic. Yes, it's practical, but I don't want to know about your phone falling in the toilet, or a puddle, or left in a cab, or hit with a nuclear bomb. You get in, get the information you need, and get out. Sad part is, I know as soon as I undoubtedly lose my phone, first place I am going is FB. Only if "lose my phone" secretly means, "I have my phone, but I just want to snag some pity numbers from some hotties thinking my phone got run over by a steam roller."

4-You want people to come to your theme party: I was in college before. I know that in order to get people to come to your awesome "70s Party" , you have to go to that shitty event page, make some stuff up about your location, then drop like 7 in-succession jokes in the description so people will want to come. Plus you promise a ton of booze and a guarantee of "Disturbia" playing. Again, it's practical and saves time for the lazy guy that wants to incognito-ly invite roughly 175 girls, no dudes, and make the event information a secret. Trust me, if you are cool (which you are if you're reading this), you've done some variation of this.

5-To promote your band, business, or BLOG: Facebook has sprouted like 100 legs and is off and running in directions no one knows. This one is for the people..I think. Because Myspace is creepy as shit and people don't really like interacting face-to-face anymore, Facebook created a way for people to listen to and read everyone's shit. Once you guys get that thing you want to promote, you're using this. Hell, this entire post was a ploy to get you to go to WMD's Facebook Fan Page (click it). Either way, I appreciate if you clicked it and "liked" it as well. You're just plain special.

PS. If you're a fan of good music, you might as well click the Stereo Drive-By Fan Page too.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

God damn! About time you guys start playing like the 59 win team you are. Rashard Lewis awoke from the grave, the Celtics got like 35 technicals, and Glen Davis got KO'd. I mean, it's not the best way you want to win a game, but I'll take it.

Also, we got hot from the land of 3 NBA Jam style. See you in Boston (...if I was hypothetically from Orlando...dammit).
// //
The United States just announced their 23-man roster for the 2010 World Cup in South Africa. Before I start ranting let's get one thing straight..I don't know anything at all about soccer, nor do I care about anything soccer related. So for any SUPERFANS out there, it may be in your best interest to continue on to the next post.

Does anyone else out there agree that the guys in the picture look like a frat house wiffle ball team? I'm well aware that everyone displayed is a superior athlete but seriously though, some of these dudes look like they're ready for a daiquiri timeout.

Before we send our men out to compete internationally at our worst sport, should we first set them up to battle a handful of WNBA All-Stars to see who comes out on top? I might have to go with Taurasi and Co. here.

They definitely should've threw in few bruisers for team pics to build their cred to say the least. I'd look at the squad a little differently if Mr. T or John Cena were present to replace tight jeans on the left.
// //

Well, well, well internet, I see that you tried, yet again, to sneak a wonderfully performed rendition of a popular Top-40 hit performed by the cast of "Glee" right past me.

Unlucky for you, I have an eye on all levels of the internet. Plus I'm on Facebook like 4000 times a day, so I know when something big goes down based on the news in the home page.

I found it, got it up, and gave it to you all because I love every single one of you. Or because I can easily find it whenever I'm feeling blue. You decide.

PS. You best believe I am getting my people in contact with the girl in pink's people ASAP. Need to get some sort of meet and greet going.
// //

Confused as hell. That's what I am. Confused in regards to this song and confused in regards to her appearance.

I really like this song. It's very summer-ish and has a reggae feel that automatically makes you feel 7 degrees warmer (sucks that today is like 95). 97% of me thinks she's hot too, but there is still that 3% telling me that she is riddled with disease, stupidity, and is primarily composed of spray tan liquid.

Well, I'm currently bumping this song at full volume and Google Imaging the shit out of Paris Hilton. Confuse me no more!

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

During the spring and early summer days it's evident that people are just a bit more joyful after months of pure distaste in regards to freezing temperatures. Once that crisp spring air hits it's okay to take a moment outside and enjoy your surroundings. Now, these moments are only really enjoyable a few times a year. Then comes the problems, with the leading factor making early appearances...

Bugs...yes...BUGS...and any other forms of annoying life. On my run today when I went to take that very first breath, it led me to consume a mosquito through my nose...not to mention the 100 swarming around my head through the woods. Fun's over, they're back. And I won't even get into the thought of bed bugs. I think the link above provides the necessary information.

Then we get to allergies. God damnit. As if my winter cold wasn't bad enough (it was awful, Dub J can certainly attest to it). And lastly, (for now) there's that thing called Poison Ivy. I just recently identified an interesting mark on my elbow and I'm just praying for it not to be what I think it is. Last summer it took me 2 months to get rid of it, which included a trip to the ER for the appropriate drugs.

Anyway, I apologize for choosing to point this out so early in the season, but somebody has to do it. I guess next time I'm overwhelmed I'll just have to take another deep breath and hope for the best...

First off, this isnt't a post about sexting, but more so, it's a post about what happens to your sexts (or texts if you're not a freak) between when you send them and when they are received.

I won't divulge my history in the realm of "sexting", but as a pro-blogger, let's just say I had to do the necessary research by posing as a person that sent sexts on the reg. By the way, did anyone know that there is a legit Wikipedia article on sexting and they are soon going to add the word into Webster's dictionary? World's definitely ending in 2012.

The problem here and the subject of this post (finallllly) is where the balls do said "personal" texts go during the time between they were sent and when they are received? Is there a text purgatory station that we just don't know about? Or does it just float throughout space and time? Can anyone with the most super-est powered Iphone Deion Sanders (intercept, nerds) sext/texts to the crib? If any of these are the case, it's pretty effed up.

Every now and then I send a text about a location I am going to be later that night to a friend who may be a girl. It also may or may not include a smiley/wink/exclamation point. If that hypothetical text got into the wrong hands, I can be ruined. Not as ruined if I sent a more revealing t(s)ext, but pretty ruined. No one can hypothetically know that I hypo-casionally (made that up) use an emoticon or an "!" to woo a girl into an eventual dance-floor makeout. That's why I need answers. I need to know if I am going to have to Jack Bauer this text-purgatory hideout/lair, or if I'm going to need to know the best places to text so thatMegatron Iphones aren't pick-6ing my unmentionable texts.

Another mystery. Another post that may not have made sense to you.

--the actions takes place between 0:35 and 1:35.

I've been holding off on these posts for a little while now because if I posted every instance small children displayed their stupidity, this blog would be full of stupid kid posts (which doesn't sound like a terrible idea).

Maybe I was a bitch, but I thought escalators were the scariest things in the world to little kids. The whole "where do these new stairs come from" and "what's moving this thing" questions were enough to make sure I wasn't effing with them unless I had to. Plus, there is that old wive's tale that if you don't tie your shoes when you ride an escalator, your foot gets mangled or some crazy shit like that. You best believe my Penny Hardaways were triple knotted whenever there was an escalator encounter looming.

This kid. This motherfucking kid is a piece of work I tell ya. Trying to get slick and put all the other slightly smarter 4 year olds to shame. What respect does that get you at that age? I'm pretty sure I didn't acquire a friend until I was 5, so who was he braggin' to? I guess he'll be able to tell mom and dad how sweet his move almost was as they're getting carted off to jail for neglect.

As soon as I get icons or some shit to click, I swear there's going to be an extensive "stupid kids" section with over 3 billions links and overall thoughts on the epidemic.

When I first saw this, I had one of those mind-warp flashbacks where racing video-games were still cool and racing games with destruction were even cooler. Like, this is some Twisted Metal/Mario Kart shit.

Clearly that person going the opposite way was being controlled by someone's little cousin that didn't really understand the controls, but was having a great time either way. Dude doing that side wheelie was showing off because he owns the game and has to insert his dominance with cheap tricks. I'd say I would play the role of the dude driving the car. A true face of determination, but overall riding a steady race.

Just straight up content with copping the bronze on Rainbow Road.

Monday, May 24, 2010

The Cleveland Cavaliers organization just recently took action and fired head coach Mike Brown after 272 wins in five seasons. Despite earning the best winning percentage compared to any coach in Cavaliers history, his failure to claim an NBA championship with the leagues most talented player ultimately cost him any future reserved seats at the Q.

But this isn't about Mike Brown or's about the disappointment ahead when Cleveland's only hope at a pro title signs with Chicago, Miami, New York, wherever...Apologies are in order, so without further ado.

Sorry to...

the guy who created the LeBron corn maze

all current Cleveland Cavaliers season ticket holders. Looks as though things may revert back to Big Z and Co. fighting for .500 regular season records.

any pathetic local political figures who participated in We Are LeBron.

the WITNESS car and garage owner (But seriously, get a clue man...)

the role players in Cleveland. It was an honest run fellas.

All in all, cutting ties with Brown definitely won't change LeBron's decision to stay or leave. I hope Clevelanders are preparing for the storm ahead. July 1st and on - There's no telling what will become of the state of Ohio.

Welp, Nike just convinced me to feverishly follow a sport that I barely understand the rules of with that commercial. So many different levels of awesome that I almost can't even knock anything about soccer.

I'm a little upset about the discrepancy with the word football. Granted, it seems appropriate that soccer gets called football since the game is 90% played with your feet, while lowly kickers are the only ones that really use their feet in football. Still, I feel like calling soccer anything other than soccer is a little questionable. And.....USA! USA! USA!

You best believe I'm getting sloshed and getting my ass whooped by soccer hooligans all throughout the world cup.
// //

Sticks & Stones guys, sticks & stones. I didn't know calling someones's socioeconomic status subpar could result in fisticuffs.

Fists are not the answer. Repression is. Everyone's been called out for something. We all went through middle school. Literally the cruelest years of our lives. You didn't see little Dub Jeezy knockin' herbs out left and right when he got dissed. He was devising plans and plotting in the distance. Say that same kid that made fun of you went and said something real stupid under his breath thinking no one heard it. Well, you did and here is your opportunity to let everyone know what he said and expose him for it. Because you're smarter than that kid, your attack will be more lasting and painful than that he issued onto you. can just knock his ass out like Hydrogen did to Boost.
// //

In the midst of all the craziness surrounding the "Lost" finale yesterday, I began thinking about the modern mysteries surrounding my life.

I'm fairly certain that Sonic does not exist at fucking all. No fast-food place can have such great and consistent deals without any locations. I can't believe you guys have that 4 double-cheeseburger for $2 deal without any known locations in the northeast, south, west, or midwest. Plus they allegedly have people that roller-skate your food to your car. That shit doesn't happen. This isn't "Grease." There are pebbles on the ground that will most definitely send that small coke and those tots flying.

Until I actually see one with my own eyes, I will equate Sonic to "The Island" on Lost. A place where nothing is explained and it probably doesn't exist.

Friday, May 21, 2010

// //

Try it out, it's true.

Have a good one everyone, I'm off to be a rockstar and ditch this blog.
// //


I recognize this may be one of the toughest questions you've ever encountered in your life, but I just want to know. Both pictures bring about so many questions with not one answer in sight. Clearly, the main question is: how did both of these pairings happen? Bears and horses? A Mouse and a toad?

I know it's Friday and everyone has to be burnt out to this point, but I urge you to forget the spreadsheets, the meetings, and the unnecessary paperwork, to look into a mystery greater than that of Pandora's Box.

If I can find the pictures taken 15 seconds after these I'm sure we'll have more to think about, or at the very least a variety of dead animals.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

// //
Another day at the office...

Faxing computer gazing and mouse clicking (in a nutshell). It's all about sticking it out for those eight hours before you're finally able to roll up the sleeves and unleash the rock star within. So when the time was right it was me in the KONA, shades on and back in the streets.

It's almost like my everyday presence is the depleted version of Clark Kent and Superman. From 9 AM to 5 PM Monday to Friday it’s all business.

How are you gonna come to play on a not so typical Wednesday. Now is my chance to give a selfless promotion for my band Stereo Drive-By. The group was rockin’ by Fenway in the midst of a Red Sox victory over the Twins. Crowd went wild, and in that particular moment on stage we were moving mountains taking names. Drink after drink… nothing could stop us…That is until the alarm sounds off at 6:30 am and it’s back to reality. Shades off, glasses on and a subtle part in the right side of my hair(sigh).

Only this time around, it was hard to miss the shit eating grin mashed in with the glazed over zombie look. Faxing, computer staring and mouse clicking with a bit more authority.

// //

It's a movie about a tire that kills people with it's psychic powers. Yup.

Sometimes the video or the picture writes the post itself. Saves me some time. Seriously, I'm sweating fucking bullets over here.
// //

How many herbs does it take to beat up a set of muggers you ask? Allegedly these guys beat the hell out of some muggers trying to attack one of their boys.

Here's why this story is made up (and you heard it here first), first, the attackers supposedly went after the guy at a Ninja Dojo. I'm no mugger, but if I'm going to attack a gentleman for most likely his Ipad (because I still don't know what they do, but I want one), I'm not going to go to a location where there is any possibility I can get my ass whooped. Next, these guys are potentially the biggest herbs I have ever seen. It would be a good fight with me and the guy in the middle when I was 14. Now he has no chance.

Plus, I see these other guys trying to put fear into everyone with their well-timed "punch when the camera flashes so we look blurry" picture. Not buying it bro. Your hair will never generate a blip on my "bad-ass" radar.
// //

A classic example of survival of the fittest right here. The fox comes at the dude HARD, but old Chester here (that's probably not his name) retaliates with his best rendition of Ryu's spin-kick from Street Fighter 2.

Fox didn't have a gameplan. Can't go into a fight or a game without one. That's why Chester is on the Early Show and the fox is still twitching in the parking lot wondering what the fuck just happened.
// //

^no lie, recently found out "quad" was short for quadrangle. What the hell is a quadrangle? Dare you to Google Image it and come up with a conclusive answer.

Ah, the quad. The place where maximum levels of people watching, people watching people watching, and bro-ing out occur. I used to eff with the quad in my younger years at college. Would skip class with the quickness if the weather was bikini-worthy for the ladies and toss the football around for like 3 hours. That's how I rolled. Just casually strolled around the "hot" section to check and see if we had a reason to get into conversation. If not, we lingered like creeps. It was fine, because it was the Quad.

Just walked through the quad of another school and saw all the familiar faces. You know the crew--here are some sample convos: Hi dude pretending to read with your Lacrosse pinney on! Hey girl that chose to wear a bikini bottom because you've been hitting that elliptical like a motherfucker this week! And I can't forget you two guys throwing the frisbee. You're probably doing some sick tosses, but truly, no one cares!

Cheers quad, cheers.

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

// //

Just scanning to see what's up on this glorious Wednesday afternoon and low and behold I end up peeing my pants.

I want in to that Olympic committee meeting where they decide the new mascots. It's probably like 25 big-wigs in flashy suits, with indestructible suitcases, and 27 Powerpoints going. A serious scene until...

Man 1: I think this year calls for something different.

Man 2: Different? I'm pretty sure 64 people committed suicide because they couldn't wrap their head around the anime yeti mascots we had for Vancouver.

Man 1 (completely disregarding what Man 2 said): I'm thinking a cyclops.

Man 2: What?! A cycl...Jesus...

Man 1: You're right, we should have 2 cyclops, but we mustn't forget, we need to give them each an anime pupil.

Man 2: I hate my life.
// //

^look at that flimsy, yet taunting wave he's giving...just an asshole.

Despite a life-transforming event that happened to me last night that directly involved a mouse, I am still giving this week's title to Jerry. When you can recognize that a comically drawn cartoon mouse is a DICK as a 5 year old, you know that character sucked.

Well first off, last night was a problem. It created and opened an entirely new bag of ethical worms that I never thought I'd encounter. So I'm just hangin' when all of a sudden a baby mouse strolls (let me stress, strolls) into the room. I freak out because mice aren't close to being baller, but I wasn't that shook because I have to admit it was cute as shit--a baby mouse to my best estimation. Needless to say, in an attempt to immobilize the mouse, I lofted my dress shoe at it and, let's just say, it did more than immobilize it. I won't get into detail, but that shit was dead as a mofo. Foolish to even question it still being alive. Following that, I dealt with (still dealing with) roughly 20 hours of guilt and constant Youtube video watching of "cute mice." I'm weird.

Jerry, on the other hand, deserved the fate of the undeserving mouse that met the bottom of my shoe. He intruded upon this cat's home, full on knowing that cats eat the fuck out of mice, and raised the most hell. I felt like every episode had Tom just chillin' somewhere, drinking a lemonade, watching TV, when Jerry would just sneak up behind him with a mallet and bash him in the head. Why would you do that? I have to admit, Tom didn't truly have the killer instinct because his days also looked terribly boring. He needed Jerry to spice things up. It was frustrating for 5 year old me, who did have that killer instinct and wanted that cartoon mouse dead.

If you don't understand Tom's constant need to destroy Jerry, it stems back to their childhood:

Jerry definitely just hit Tom with a mallet.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

// //

This was downright disturbing to see. First off, Shannon Brown and Chris Brown are definitely brothers. Secondly, he tried to kill Jason Richardson. When you do a dunk like that you are trying to murder the other man from the inside out, no other explanation.

Also, everyone reacted like it went in. Just straight bizarre from all angles. Chris Brown's got hops..

PS--I accidentally paused it at the 0:10 mark and Derek Fisher's face sums up everything going on here.
// //

Wheeler, you shrewd son of a bitch! We all thought about pulling off some capers in high school. I know my friends and I came up with some elaborate schemes to cheat the SATs, dominate the shit out of Yale/Harvard, and build industrial empires, but that's what they were..schemes. They were fun to talk about and have a solid laugh, but no one dare attempted such an act. I probably had the best scheme idea back in the day. I wanted to use my middle name as my first name (which makes a very convincing basketball/football player name) to con a top-tier D1 school to give me a basketball/football scholarship and apply for the NFL/NBA Draft. That's taking advantage of racism right there.

Anyway, congrats kid, you had more balls than me.

Monday, May 17, 2010

// //

How epic of an Air Hockey table is this? I mean, it's Air Hockey. I'd love to walk into an arcade in downtown Tokyo and see what I'm made of. My guess is I wouldn't last 10 minutes without having a heart attack or getting visibly upset to say the least. People definitely demand their money back left and right as soon as the fake pucks light up the playing field.

Could I make it in Japan? Do you think there are serious Air Hockey leagues out there. I was a gamer back in the day but lets get one thing straight...this is clearly a whole new level. Everyday at my entry level position I often ponder the most outlandish opportunities waiting for me. After another day at the office, aspiring to be a professional eater and game tester in Japan doesn't seem so bad. Hopefully tomorrow I can stumble upon something a bit less ridiculous.
// //

I'm reasonably sure SNL is entirely the guest star, Andy Samberg, and Kenan Thompson. Not a bad crew to go to war with week in and week out, but I'd feel more comfortable if they picked up a couple solid free agents.
// //

I've been defending bears in the "what animal would win this fight" debate for years. This video is absolutely RUINING my credibility in the animal-fight debate world. It's like I just got disbarred or something.

I thought bears were ruthless killers that can swim, climb, and run with the best of them. This bear is standing in the corner frigid like a bitch. Check the 0:28 second mark. The lions have this, "whoa dude, that bear is freaking out" look on their faces. Embarrassing.

Maybe it's time to hit the ol' dusty trail. I should have known my animal battle skills were dwindling when I said that a teenage grizzly bear had a chance at beating a Jurassic-era Tyrannosaurus Rex.

PS. The Japanese are ruthless, huh? Ringing bells and shouting nonsense when the bear goes down and shit. No holding back in the far east.
// //

In a routine reminiscing experience, I couldn't help but remember a funny moment from my last year in college before I became a "Working Man." Because I am an immature writer, I will do it book report style circa 4th grade.

Place: Modular 11A. The best place in the world.
Setting: Undoubtedly a Sunday.
Time: Unknown
Headache: Intense
Mouth: Cotton
Girl In Sight: Fuck No

A more hopeful Dub Jeezy wakes up, confused and blurry-eyed because he slept in his contacts for the 97th straight night. Noticing only a minimal case of morning wood, he makes his way into the bathroom which is not but 2 feet from his room (this takes him 7 minutes). Upon entering the bathroom, our hero sees a shocking surprise waiting for him. There is a note on the toilet that reads:

"I don't know why, but I flushed the only pair of scissors we had in the Mod down the toilet. Again, I don't know why I did it, or how they properly flushed, but they are gone. The toilet does not work...mainly because there are scissors somewhere in there. I hope you didn't need to cut anything because the scissors are in the toilet. I didn't call a work order, I am sorry."

--I cleaned it up for clarity, otherwise it would have looked like the "Wing Dings" font.

In a bout of confusion, our hero bypassed the bathroom downstairs and chose instead to piss outside next to the school tennis courts.

I miss college.
// //

^exactly what it's like when I'm belting my lungs out, tube-top and all.

First off, I spelled Karaoke right on the first try. In the grim life that is mine, that shit is a crowning achievement. Secondly, singing songs to complete strangers is the absolute balls.

I'm one of those "Rock Band" kids. You know them. They're the kids that sang "Say It Ain't So", "When You Were Young", and "Say It Ain't So" again (because it's easy as shit) drunkenly at 4am when you were trying to study for your LSAT senior year. So any opportunity I get to sing whilst drunk to other drunks is a slice of heaven. The thing about Karaoke is that if you're a cool kid (which I assume you are), you don't truly know any bar's Karaoke night. You just stumble in there, most likely drunk as sin because you and your cohorts randomly decided it was hard alcohol night, and notice the spotlight on the stage. The hand of god reaches down, tells you "it's time", and you go to that fucking sign-up sheet like your life depended on it.

Here's where you can dictate how your night goes. You can be that guy (that same guy that has all the bars' Karaoke nights calendar'd on his Iphone) and pick songs that like 2 people know, or you can be the cool kid and pick a god damn jam. By jam, I mean: 1990s, prominent in the "TRL" scene, 80% of the bar will be singing it, and women will be urged to toss undergarments at you, but will settle for just hooking up. Basically only two songs encompass all of those guidelines: "I Want It That Way"--BSB and "I Don't Wanna Miss A Thing"--Aerosmith. You don't even need to sing them well because no one will be listening, they're like the 1992 Dream-Team of Karaoke songs. Can't be beat...

Just get sufficiently drunk, casually meet some girls along the way, and sing those songs, and I GUARANTEE it'll be a fun ass night.
// //

Drunk facebook messages are still a no-no.... especially to girls I haven't met yet....damn it

Mack: May 16 at 2:06am

nicole you are sexy, my band is playin at church (bar near fenway) this week. you should come by

Her status the following day...

Upset Girl:I'm just going to say this once. If you're even remotely interested in a chick on facebook, do NOT proceed to (A) call her sexy and (B) promote your band... Sounds kind of cheap when you break it down, right? p.s.- I'm seeing someone whom is also very very sexy, works out doesn't it?

Yesterday. 8:23pm

Brandon: you are so boss girlfriend ♥
Yesterday at 8:26pm

hey grl i thnk u r sexi cum chck out ma band plyin in boston nxt wek

so talk like that?
Yesterday at 8:34pm

Well sooorrrrry jesus christ, thought I'd send a late night compliment while trying to build the fan base.

PS - I did some creeping, the guys not that hot

PPS - My band is playing at this bar church on wednesday at 1030, come check it out... you all are sexy

Saturday, May 15, 2010

// //

What ever happened to 7up Cool Spot advertisements? I remember as a kid I was roped into the 7up video game for Sega (pretty much like a sub-par Mario game with a red dot as the main character). Needless to say I thought he was the man, which was the sole reason I purchased a handful of 24 oz 7up's over the years.

What about Make 7...Up Yours. Who didn't want that green t-shirt back in the day? I purchased some 7up to mix a few drinks yesterday and frankly, I wasn't too thrilled with my purchase. Maybe if Cool Spot found his way back into the limelight I'd feel better about it. There were some sleeper advertisements going on in the beverage department...It's time for a resurgence.
// //

Steve Nash is ready. He will not back down from anyone or anything. After sweeping the Spurs he is now more focused and more determined than ever before. Quite possibly this will be Steve's last true championship run. You can rest assure he will give every part of his body for the chance to humbly hoist that admired trophy.

Friday, May 14, 2010

// //

As the minutes dwindle I see that I finished tied with Michael Jordan and just one vote below LeBron James in the person you'd rather be at age 25 poll. Either both my parents, all my aunts, uncles, and acquaintances voted or you guys have some high aspirations for little ol' me. I'm just kidding, I'm jacked. So more like jacked ol' me.

My poor job history, my lack of qualifications, my general un-dateability, and my refusal to get a web-designer really makes this a head scratcher. Clearly the site's shit, I write 1/3 of the posts whilst intoxicated, but you guys really like it and I appreciate it.

I will use this as fuel for the blogger-iffic fire that gets spit through words on a daily basis. Then one day I'll become the person you guys think I will be by age 25...Have a good weekend.

// //

Vince Carter looks ready?...I think.
// //
Before I get into this, I have to say that it is truly shocking I am ahead of Michael Jordan and slightly behind LeBron James in the "Who would you rather be when you're 25?" poll. I didn't even vote this time. You guys must have lost your minds. I'll be lucky if I'm alive at 25. With the path I'm on it doesn't look promising. Plus I'll be worth around -$32,000 or something. I guess in some people's minds that is better than winning an NBA Championship and being worth like 150 million.

Back to the task at hand...

-Here we have Mark Sanchez. He's just being the consummate professional that he normally is. He's also teaching Eli Manning how to correctly pronounce sentences. While other QBs are barbecuing and shit, Mark is meeting with the big wigs and getting that Super Bowl to New York in 2014. Simply put, that's some respectable off-season shit.

PS. Mark holds the pigskin like it's life or death. Can't be holding it like a loaf of bread Eli...

(only watch 0:13-0:30)

Here's Tom. Just casually golfing, not worrying about his priorities or obligations to his team or the region of New England. No Superbowl efforts here. Just a couple shanks/hacks/slices and a elegantly assembled ensemble (can't knock that). To top it all off Pats fans, he throws a pretty large duck into the air at his presumed caddy. Plus I also think he has text records that show he was in contact with 3 porn stars, 4 reality show floosies, and a couple random slags on the side.

When New England is just getting to first base, New York is already home...

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

// //

I will contest that anyone who liked Sid was a god damn liar. I mean..look at him. He is not an aesthetically pleasing cartoon character. It was like, someone had a 10 cartoon deadline to meet and he was stuck at 9 with about 30 seconds to go. Sid was most likely a brainchild of a cartoonist who was scurrying to a deadline.

Sid represented the faux-hustla of "Hey Arnold", arguably the best cartoon show ever created. That shit taught me how to go about regular life as a dude on the grind in the 2010. Everywhere Arnold or Gerald turned, there was always an obstacle in their way. Most obstacles circled around that sonuvabitch Sid. Sid did this, Sid's running from the cops, Sid has incriminating photos of some main character. All in all, Sid never helped you do anything, but always hurt everything you tried to do. Everyone has that kid they know. Most likely they're tucked in the top left of your Facebook with their friend request still pending. We're too good of people to actually ignore the request, but we're dicks enough never to accept. It's a delicate balance. If something goes awry, things will fall apart.

Cheers to you Sids, consistently populating my Facebook friend requests with no real chance of me accepting them.
// //

I love seeing these sexy attempts at being "cool" and "edgy" by some dude with a lot of cell phone plans. Like it's cool you have a Iphone, the touchscreen Blackberry, and what appears to be several Zunes(??), no need to flaunt it. Plus, I see that little makeshift "Simon"(anyone still have one of these?) speaker thing you have there. There are no strings on it bro. How will my two Iphones' keyboards connect to the speaker?

Didn't think of that one, eh?
// //
Why does the press continue writing more and more about Ken Griffey Jr potentially sleeping in the clubhouse during Saturday's game. If I was Griffey and a reporter came up to ask if I was available to pinch-hit that day, I probably would've said something along the lines of...

"Look, I'm everything that's ever been good about the Seattle Mariners organization. I've hit 630+ career home runs through my 21-year career. I'm one of the best players in the history of the game. If I want to sleep...I can if you could do me a favor and shove it I'd greatly appreciate it."

But...I guess that's one of the many reasons why It's okay for me to have never found the spotlight. Griffey decided on a more respectable approach, simply stating "I'm always available." Manager Don Wakamatsu handled the situation to perfection, making it 'clear' to everyone that he was on the bench the entire time. "He wasn't asleep," claimed Wakamatsu. "He was available to pinch hit and I chose not to use him as the manager."

There have been other complaints in regards to Griffey's performance with his .200 batting average and .225 slugging percentage so far this season. As far as I'm concerned, Griffey should be able to sign and sit on the bench with the Mariners in uniform until the day he dies for all of his contributions. Any more questions or concerns? Let the man be.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

// //

WARNING: Viewer discretion is advised.

Honestly...I've never been so confused in my life. The clip above starts off with a friendly hippo innocently dancing (for about 10 seconds) until it progressively heads down the wrong path we all didn't see coming. As soon as the creepy stare found the screen 30 seconds in it was over...I knew I wouldn't be able to rest easy tonight.

I just want to meet whoever created this disturbing footage and ask how the uncalled-for innovation emerged. I was expecting a hippo full of joy and innocence, and this is what I find in return. Unbelievable...
// //

-He thanked the staff by touching the big water jug of Poland Spring and declaring it a party.

PS. How awful do you feel if you were cited for "running down" Jesus?

--thanks ER
// //
^for those of you watching (or watched) the Celtics game, it has to be completely obviously that LeBron is mailing this game and this series in. Here's why...

The rewards offered by "Scores" for LBJ if he decides to come to the Knicks in the offseason:

- A free lifetime of lap dances
- A "LeBron James Day" when all the strippers will wear his jersey
- And free food for life at the strip club's very own steakhouse

By god. I've never seen a more appealing offer in my life. You can ask me to do just about anything if this was my prize. I'd even be fine with still having "LeBron James Day" instead of my own day. Where else would you have the option to straight up eat a $100 Steak off the body of a top notch stripper? Nowhere, that's where. So you best believe LeBron's elbow will be mysteriously flaring up midway through the third quarter and he'll be unable to play the rest of the series.

Honestly, is this the best deal ever?
// //

Eerie huh? I mean if we're doing sequels (that are better than the original) to high selling pop stars, can anyone get a shot out there?

If this is some "Lord Of The Rings" shit where whoever has the figurative ring has all the power in the world (aka pop stardom), I want in.

Can I at least be Drake pt. 2 (one with an intact ACL) or at the very least give me Kid Cudi the sequel?
// //

As you may have noticed (because this blog is still up and running) over the past year-ish, I have not "made it" in America. I'm pretty sure I am doing exactly the opposite. But much like a dude randomly chillin' in Antarctica, it ain't no sweat. Sometimes you have to ride the wave.

I'd like to blame it on laziness, apathy, confusion, or some other negative buzz-word that we stick in our philosophy essays for a few bonus points. It's just that wave up to it's ol' tricks again. I've been in collaboration with friends coming up with ideas for random website after random website. Some are good, some are meh, some are fueled by a torrid combination of beers and jack&cokes. They're rarely if ever funded and the plans generally fizzle within a few weeks. Again I'm not sweating it because of one primary postgrads (from '09) are Freshmen at life.

Remember freshman year of high school? You were undoubtedly not that cool. In fact you weren't on the radar unless you played a varsity sport or were big/hot as fuck. If you were anything else, you were struggling out there, coming to terms with your braces, being short/underdeveloped, or any other anxiety causing issue. If you were on varsity, you probably weren't playing, and no one gave a shit about JV. Grades mattered, but not really. A finding your way time.

Freshman year of college was an entirely different monster. This was the drinking age. You've formed into what you're probably going to look like for awhile and it was all about social standing. Questions like: What parties are you going to attempt to inevitably get kicked out of (if you're a guy), what friends you're going to make, what opposite sex plays you're going to make all the while avoiding the "Freshman 15." Sounds like a full plate. There was a shit ton of disappointment and lost opportunities, but they all made you stronger to the point where you ran that shit your senior year. So we just have to power through the tough times. The shit apartments (I had a possum), the lack of a social scene (no girls), the unsureness of your job (have one?), and what else may be creeping up your skin will be over soon. Like our parents always told us at the least opportune builds character.

We're all taking our finals soon, so there is a light at the end of our Freshman year tunnel...

Monday, May 10, 2010

// //

I think this is Boston exclusive, but it's only the first 3 seconds you need to watch. If you watch more, this is one of the shittiest posts I've ever made.

Tell me how fast this man says, "This is the Higginbottom Family Founders of The Osiris Institute." I have him clocked at like 1.8 seconds. That shit is impressive. He turned it all into one ridiculously calculated and partially slurred word.
// //

Roughly one year ago today, my life ended aka I graduated. I then got confused as all hell, and in the middle of several rash decisions, this blog was born. It was kind of like an unplanned pregnancy where I didn't really like the idea of the blog at first, but it grew on me and I learned to love it. That's not true. It's more like I realized this figurative kid was really good at sports and had potential to make me money down the line, so I had to stick it out. Wow. I'm going to stop with that controversial comparison and get right to the point...

Listen up college kiddies that may be approaching D-Day:

1) Don't worry about it.

1a) Actually, don't even speak about it. If any of your friends say the "G" word, beat the shit out of them, they'll understand.

2) Make everyday last as long as possible kids. You don't have many days of reckless, finals-free drinking remaining, so buck up and slam the cheapest of brews into the earliest of hours. You'll regret it if you don't.

3) Make sure you see everyone that had an influence on you throughout your 4 years (or 5 super-seniors). Even the enemies you made. Nothing is wrong with engaging in several epic brawls before you don the cap and gown. Just don't lose the fight though. It's not a good look to have a black eye and a broken nose in front of the fam.

4) If a majority of the school is participating in Senior Week, do it. Even if it's stupid or expensive. If you don't lease your first apartment and ask your parents for $3000 two days before, you should probably be able to afford it. You don't want to miss out on the last memories with the majority of your class present.

5) Somehow try to reach a smooth drunk before you cop that diploma. Obviously don't be shitfaced (no one wants to see you throw up on Grandma) or hungover, because you're going to be sitting there for awhile. A good drunk will allow you to laugh off the terrible speaker with your most likely drunk compadre next to you. Don't worry about the pictures, if you're a stud or a hottie, you're going to look awesome. Don't listen to Facebook when it says you can't take pics drunk.

6) This may be the one last opportunity in life where it is mildly acceptable to cry like a bitch. Yeah, I did it. It was a combination of the steady drunk, the goodbyes, the knowledge of my life effectively ending, and again, the steady drunk. Let a few shed. Your parents will be disappointed, your father embarrassed, but hey, you used their money to get that paper, cry it up. Wait..that doesn't make sense.

Good luck out there kids. I'm expecting to compete with like 74,000 of you in the blog world within the next few months.
// //

I wish there was a job that entailed the title of this post because I'd be the Bill Gates/Steve Jobs/and ironically the Mark Zuckerberg of that shit. Sure it's easy to just close your eyes and pick a random person (hopefully chick) to friend, but there's more of an intricate art about it.

For example, this evening I was reading one of my favorite sites, when they presented me with a Twitter address of an allegedly funny/abrasive girl. At first I laughed at the idea because such a thing doesn't exist, but I looked into it and she was, in fact, funny and abrasive. By God. For those of you that know me, you know that there is no Facebook riddle I can't solve. Friends used to come up to me and say "there's this girl in my Econ class that is so sexy, that sits in the front row." Within 5 minutes I'll have her grill up on my Facebook, and I'm not even in that class. When you give me class rosters, campus directories, and a "Guess Who" like mind in deciphering chicks' seat preference, what do you expect? Being good at Facebook creeping is like being good at crime. You don't want to be good at it, but you it's your cross to bear. I have to just best use my talent for good like Robin Hood stole from the rich to give to the poor.

Anyway, I read her Tweets, got the necessary info, and friended her. She confirmed because she saw my dashing/powerfully sexy profile picture and within a few minutes of me creeping her, she FB chatted me. A creeper's worst fear! She asked what made me friend her. In what normally would have been a patented Dub Jeezy white lie that would have involved some combination of me faking being foreign or saying that she friended me, I chose to tell the truth. I told her I found her through said site and really enjoyed her Twitter. In more words than one, I basically said, "I would like to electronically date you." In a surprising play on her part, she laughed it off, thanked me and I happened to tell her about this blog--she said she'd check it out.

So here's to you girl that said, she'd read this blog. You dispelled rumors that creepers can't prosper and form potentially lasting business (and real) relationships between Twitter and WMD. Dub "The Robin Hood Of The Internet" Jeezy, thanks you.