Sunday, October 31, 2010

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Good to see the Celtics out in costume celebrating Halloween in full effect. Is it acceptable for someone to dress up as a fellow athlete exploited in the media? Not sure Rajon Rondo really thought this one out...

So from left to right we got Rondo with Jermaine O'Neal as Mr T., Glen Davis in his best PJ's? Delonte West as V for Vendetta, Paul Pierce as a frog, and can somebody fill me in on what the hell Kevin Garnett is supposed to be? Either way its cool...just proud to be a fan of this team...

That is until I stumbled upon a video of Shaquille O'Neal as Shaqeeta...Man, this guy has definitely lost his mind. What did the rest of the C's have to say when (s)he rolled in? Couldn't have been a pretty site.  But hey as long as he keeps doing well at starting center I guess we can it slide. Right?
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I guess in a high tech world smugglers have got to get creative to survive, but I think there is a point when even this out of his mind man from Sri Lanka can realize that putting 2,060 diamonds into 42 condoms, and EATING all of them might NOT be the best idea?

I mean, I have to take off my jewelry when I pass through airport security. Not a problem for him apparently? Most importantly I think the people from Jackass, maybe even the next Jackass 3D, need to get in touch with him because he's obviously got big dreams. Seems like their type of man.

Then again, this lunatic made it on the plane out of Sri Lanka and into India before he was arrested on a tip, so maybe he knew what he was doing after all.

Though it had to be a little awkward sitting in the police station while they fed him bananas and waited to ah... recover... 42 glistening condoms. Not really the image you want to remember when it's time to buy that rock. So what's better, blood diamonds or..... ?

Thursday, October 28, 2010

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For lazy folk like myself, some enterprising scientists in a laboratory unknown decided to create a bed that you never have to make. They combined the zipping convenience of a bookbag and a pair of pants and combined that with a bed, so that you can just zip the bed up when you're done to give the illusion that you take care of yourself. I'm all about illusions.

Love making people think, I'm a good person. I'm also fine with making people think that I live a clean lifestyle and make my bed. If there is one thing a person can respect, it's a clean bed. If I can hoodwink/bamboozle someone into thinking that, the bed's done it's job.

Can we talk about possibly having a "close" friend sleep over? Imagine them initially thinking that you're neat and continuously make your bed, to only find out that it's a zipper illusion. It's like "Where's Waldo" or something. Just frustrated at the end. That'll really tell you how the relationship will be.

If she reacts slightly favorably to you having a zipper bed, you need the dump the hell of that chick immediately because that girl's batshit crazy.
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So is selling the world's largest Gummy Worm...otherwise recognized as the world's largest...yeah yeah we get it. They certainly don't avoid what people are thinking through their advertising schemes. But anyway what a ridiculous idea...a 4,000 calorie 3 pound gummy worm for 27 dollars.

Then we get to the world's largest Gummy Bear. This candy dubbed Gumzilla trounces the opponent with its 5 pound 12,600 calorie frame towering at 9 inches tall. A stuffed animal in the texture of gummy. Now that's what I'm talking about. An extra two bucks well worth it.

So how many weird looks would I get if I rolled up with one of these in the movie theatres? Gotta be tough to distribute. There wouldn't be any ideal spots to set it down when the first 1/2 pound is gone.  Ahh what the hell...might as well make a memory and give it a shot.
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Didn't need the help of you a-holes out there. I know I put our email address out there for "suggestions" and leave the comment section open for "comments", but yet again I'm left fending for myself. In a case of intense irony, I end up looking like a huge a-hole each and every October 31st. I was Sisqo last year...Sisqo.

This year, I took the initiative. By initiative, I mean I had my friend decide costumes he would be if he were black and tell them to me. Within that pool I selected the funniest, cost-efficient idea and rolled with it. Brainchild of said plan is the Old Spice Guy.

If there were ever a "bingo, bango, bongo" situation out there this was it. Sign, sealed, delivered, it was mine.

Let's be honest, the shit's not going to work. Being nude from the waist up is going to be a problem in these sub-zero Boston temperatures. Plus, I'm undoubtedly going to lose the necessary Old-Spice bottle that keeps me from looking like an absolute D-Bag. Oh well, just the cross I bear I guess.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

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NAUCC 2010 from Max Schulze on Vimeo.

I mean, the unicycle is like the nerd equivalent of the knuckle ball. No one's doing it, you probably won't have a ton of competition, and you have the security of knowing that if you're the best, you'll probably be the best forever.

Add this to the list of things I'm going to need my kid to do immediately upon coming out of the womb. Dude's going to spend a few hours in the morning kicking field goals/punts, throwing knuckle balls during the afternoon, and hop in the unicycle foam pit by night. I'll toss some steaks and some Hawaiian Punch in there periodically to keep my million dollar boy from dying and what not too.

So, how bad of a father will I be? It's already determined that this kid is going to be removed from my possession, but like how soon? 1 year? 1 month? Delivery day?!
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Stop the god damn presses because today is a big day. Nah, seriously, it's not. I truly didn't/don't know how to open up a post about the halting of production of cassette players.

Were these things the most frustrating items? First off, I thought they were some pretty special items in my youth. My mom and dad had one and simply wouldn't let me touch it. I thought that shit had nudity on it or spouted flames, so I stayed away. Little did I know, it was just a cassette tape. A time consuming, painfully angering cassette tape. Like that part of a song? Just hit the rewind button and HOPE you land where you need to. An errant press of the play button can completely ruin the song playing experience. Not to be on my high horse here, but these things had like 7 songs on them. Three on side one and four on side two. You literally had to stop everything you're doing, press the eject button (can we talk about how the eject button is slowly phasing out of society?) and flip the tape. Oh, and 9 out of 10 times the tape's actual tape was probably coming out because you bought that Mase cassette at Tower Records for $4.00.

So, it was probably for the best that I never really jumped on the cassette tape bandwagon, because I'd probably be a creepier, angrier dude. Straight frustrated with PTSD-like rage whenever I'd hear any click noise.

Don't even get me started on VCRs and VHS'es.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

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Safe to say this real life Russell from Up will be out and about trick-or-treating this Halloween. Get 10-15 of these dudes at your door step and it's over. You can't just turn him away with one baby Snickers bar. Time to stock up on the candy and make the kids happy.

I don't mean to be calling out Russell here but it definitely looks like he's ready to go. The light choice in costume is a dead giveaway...just a guy who's ready to go the distance through the town. Trust me I know from experience. Back in the day I wasn't out wearing any sort of masks or heavy jackets. It was all business baby.

Lets just say I took the double shift in my fat kid prime...sometimes that meant going out with two sets of groups. The neighborhood friends/younger kids at six and the older buddies for round two. Not even sure I fit in with any of them, but I was certainly calling the shots on where to go and how to get there.

Halloween was my time to shine. Best believe I'll be prepared to hand out some candy come October 31st. I don't know how many trick-or-treaters will be roaming the greater Allston area but I'll be there. But hey, the more they miss out the more I keep in my personal stash. Still got the fat kid business sense after all.
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Yeah, that's confirmed as a pumpkin. The zany combination of markers and actual holes is downright mesmerizing on this thing.

That being said, the person that did this is an absolute fucking nerd. Probably fixing his glasses right now, submitting photos of this construction to George Lucas' office right now. What else do nerds do? Dude's probably buying pens just to fill his pocket protector up.

If you put a gun to my head and asked me to reconstruct this thing, I can assure you I will die from blood loss. I don't know what it is, but every time I'm in the vicinity of a pumpkin and a sharp object, there is massive blood loss. Like not just a little cut--there is a debate whether I need to go to the hospital. So while I will diss this nerd until I can't type no more, I have a partial bit of respect for this World of Warcraft monster.
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Not exactly the case, but Four Loko is becoming that new "Resident Evil" virus of our generation and causing college kids to get zombie drunk to the point where there forcing cats to funnel beers. Correction. This cat looks ready and willing to take this funnel down, but I bet it had some Four Loko too. Here's a quote from Central Washington University's administrative official:

"These people were fighting for consciousness almost ... their eyes were rolling back in their head."

Damn. Back in my day, you'd blackout, yell at a couple people, and possibly pee somewhere or throw up on your laptop--now these mofos are unconsciously terrorizing campus with no visible pupils. You best believe I'd perform at least 3 "All Weapons" codes per semester if this were the case. I'm like the "Blade" of Four Loko zombie'ism. I survived my first episode with Four Loko and it's taught me how to deal with others induced with the poison. I can also chill out in the sunlight and rock the leather jacket like no other.

But seriously, is that cat crushing this funnel? If so, I'm embarrassed in a way I've never been embarrassed before.

Monday, October 25, 2010

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Week seven in the new spot and the troubles resume...

Still no microwave. I can only get so innovative with my cooking schemes without a microwave. Yesterday I came to the realization that can't just throw burritos in toaster ovens. Just simply not conventional.

Maybe the idea would eventually arise to buy a new one...could've suggested that earlier but I held back. Why haven't I taken action? I have my reasons (definitely don't). Fine, call me out. When will us young professionals ever get settled? The over under has gotta be at the turn of age 25...sadly.
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I've seen some interesting movie trailers in my day (i.e.: Human Centipede), but this one takes the cake. I have never seen one trailer escalate to the point that this one did. One second there was some sketchy Youtube nudity, next there was a woman transforming into the fakest looking human-wasp thing I've ever seen, then there was the obligatory large car explosion to just throw everyone off.

Either way, I believe "Wasp Woman" is a telling look into female interaction with men. Don't remember her birthday/anniversary? You're getting fucking stung by a human-sized wasp chick. I mean, anytime I've forgotten a significant date for any woman, I get the passive aggressive, "I'm not mad, I'm disappointed" routine. Let's just say that's probably the exact equivalent of Wasp Woman's rage.

Minus the getting impaled by a very large stinger part, of course.
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I liked the commercial, still like LeBron, and am pretty pumped for the game tomorrow.

Would have done the exact same thing. You think I'd want to be in Cleveland for anything? Cleveland is like if the shitty version of Boston had a baby that mistakenly fell on it's head.

Dare I say...Go Heat? Kidding Craw. I'm a C's fan vs. the Miami Thrice.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

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Not that I can't/haven't played an effective game of flag football blackout drunk before, but I'd rather be kind of sober if I had the choice. Reason why I need these vitamins is because my birthday is Saturday. Yes, the national holiday of my birth will again be hitting us this glorious October 23rd. Needless to say, I'm going to be stanky level drunk at an early/consistent hour Saturday night and will need some strength to continue my MVP campaign in the realm of flag football.

Apparently this vitamin has the magical elixir in it to prevent even the drunkest of drunks from dying out there on the field. Hey, if you're listening Drinkwel, we want to endorse you here at WMD. We have no qualms about your sketchiness, your message, and your overall effectiveness. We're just starving for advertisers/sponsorship to the point that anything that can partially promise me a longer lifespan on the field is fine by me.

But seriously, I may not make it past this weekend. I know I've said this before, but there will be so much alcohol present per square foot the next few days I'm just bound to die. God speed, and wish me Happy Bday on my Facebook wall. I love posts from out of the woodwork.
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You know how everyone watches certain movies throughout school. I believe they're classified as "must-sees" or "necessary" films. Movies like, "Glory", "To Kill a Mockingbird", and "Schindler's List" fit the bill pretty good, but I think we should add one more movie to the mix...

Starship Troopers. Yup. That movie about giant bugs terrorizing a fake planet with Neil Patrick Harris in a supporting scientist role. Hear me out here. I know this movie doesn't have the social impact of the previous movies I listed, but this movie is just straight up awesome. Just a ton of unexplained shit about how the Earth moved to Costa Rica and then Costa Rica was essentially blown up by bugs. Earth is pissed and wages war on the bugs. There's the plot. Nothing more, nothing less.

Let me tell ya, the film is needlessly gory. Ineffective soldiers are getting chopped in half at a pretty vicious clip and a couple decapitations are tossed in as well. That may create a couple issues with the whole "watch in school" thing, plus the exposure of boobs may cause an additional snafu or two. Sidenote: those were easily some of the first boobs most of us have ever seen--transcendent indeed. Taught everyone about class systems, futuristic weaponry, and the ability to defeat and enslave a bug race. Basically all the tools you need post-graduation.

I feel like this movie was like career quicksand, with Neil Patrick Harris being the only survivor.
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Judging by this picture, the NBA is going to be off the wall, bat-shit crazy this year. Toss Kevin Durant, The Incredible Hulk, Rajon Rondo, and Spiderman into any picture and you're definitely going to grab my attention. Chuck "The Thing's" arm in there and you will HAVE 1000% of my attention. Dude was baller. Just a big ugly rock that crushed buildings and undoubtedly beers. Nothing but respect for that guy.

So yeah, back to the NBA losing it's mind. What's going on? LeBron is snapping from all angles (recently retweeting racist things said about him ), Shaquille O'Neal stated that there was going to be a statue built of him in Harvard Square (before playing a game for the Celtics), and Ron Artest is still lurking behind a rock somewhere, which is always concerning.

I'm not entirely sure..but I think a hologram of C3PO is coming out of Kobe Bryant's hand. October 26th can't come soon enough--it's when the circus begins.
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Talk about making the most of your time. No wonder the kids are so crisp with the dance moves. Just seizing the opportunity in every moment possible. Most people twiddle their thumbs or pretend to read the paper in the midst of waiting to get their teeth checked.

These dudes say hell no....we're gonna get ready for the big time and bust out our entire dance routine for every receptionist and patient that'll prepare to watch and take notes.

Lets go.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

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So the NBA recently banned players from wearing the new $300 Concept 1 shoe that guarantees to immediately help increase vertical leap. Is it any coincidence that the sneaks are the same color as Flubber? There are three scenarios as to why the league put a stop to the new age PF Flyers

1) The basketball sneaker Gods (Nike, Adidas, Reebok) collectively offered the league a large sum of money if they banned the new guys from coming in and stealing the limelight. Think about it this way...when I purchased Nike Shox back in the day was I just completely wasting my money? Think so.

2) The shit is ridiculous. Real life Flubber. Same color. Same product. On my way to buy a pair right now and dominate pickup.

3) The company paid the league themselves for the publicity so every decent player (like me) will go out and think they're gaining some sort of advantage. Well it worked...See you on the courts.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

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Amen Jimmy McMillan...The rent IS too damn high.

Here's a guy just coming out and telling it like it the people of New York what they want to here. The only one who could pull this off even better would be Mr. T himself. I mean the dude really sounds like Clubber Lang in Rocky III. Has there ever been a more bizarre Governors debate? I don't know about his reference to being a Karate expert but I'll roll with it...the rent's just too damn high.
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I went to public school and let me tell you, it was nothing like this. PS 106 had a turtle tank and that was about it. Basically everyday's plot twist centered around the well-being of those turtles. Music class consisted of me STRUGGLING on the piano and watching literally everyone else kill it on the clarinet/flute/cello. Teacher pegged me as the piano kid which absolutely sucked.

Needless to say, there aren't any underground hidden Youtube videos of me bangin' out a rendition of "Back At One" by Brian McKnight with 37 of my fellow 3rd graders. I was too busy being exceptionally good at tag and digging for bugs all day. Plus, at one point or another, my entire family told me that I'm not a good singer. In an era where we were to believe anything was possible, I had to scratch singing off the list. God dammit.

Oh well, those turtles kicked the shit out of singing popular songs with my classmates and gaining national notoriety any day.

Monday, October 18, 2010

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I feel for you Red Parrot...Just looking off in the distance pondering as to why you're stuck with the blue group. Not really sure how to bring up fresh conversation with the accountant and the new guy next to you. Not quite confident on how to act in all situations presented.. What to eat/drink, how to sit, when to mingle...the list goes on.

I certainly encountered a number of difficult challenges in the midst of my first company outing today. In what should be a fun setting I was completely stressed out. Things that didn't need to be overthought were absurdly analyzed. Some would tell me to just be myself but we all should know that's recipe for disaster. That said, I lost it for a moment in the buffet line when I thought I had everything under control...The realization came when I looked around to see that everyone else started with a salad and were quick to laugh at my well constructed steak sub.

Before the buffet debacle were the seating arrangements. Turns out my trusted friend and co-worker played it cool and squeezed into the last seat at the sales girls table (god damnit). Then we get to drinks. What to order...Coffee? Soda? Water? Alcohol? Is it free? Of course its free...Settle down and order what your Boss gets. Jesus. Coke.

Overall conversation was tricky. Some business talk followed up by a handful of stale jokes. I decided the best thing to do was treat to it like a date. Ask questions. Nod your head. Laugh. Just went out there and showcased a standard B (-) performance through the adversity presented. Expecting to be a bit more smooth next time around.
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Wow. I've seen it a bunch of times before and all I have left to say after seeing that Speechless. Just as bizarre as bizarre gets when it comes to anything in general.

Normally, I'd love to be appointed leader of the ad-agency for a debacle such as this one, but I want to be nowhere near this. No connection/affiliation/partnership with this Skittles campaign. So what's the deal with these candy commercials these days. They are scaring me more than Paranormal Activity would have if I was brave enough to see it. Just be annoyingly cute and partially witty like you always are candy commercials. That's how WMD is so successful.

Just day in and day out of Dub J and Craw being annoyingly cute and partially witty.
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Introducing the Victoria Salmon Kings logo. It's Victoria so I'm assuming they're a hockey team or something, but come on. If I'm one of those toothless bastards freezing my balls of in Victoria, Canada, I assure you that I will not be pumped about playing for this logo. Shit doesn't even look like a salmon. It's like a dolphin, possibly even a barracuda. It would essentially be a stretch to even call this a salmon, let alone the KING of all salmon.

Like, the rest of team will be skating out on the ice and I'll be there just staring, confused as fuck at our "apparent" leader..the salmon king that we are out there playing our ass off for. Who knew there was a feudal class system out there for salmon? I thought they just kind of swam around waiting to die. Playing with fire each and every day of their life avoiding the fishing line or a bear.

I'll tell you what team I'm rooting for--the Victoria Salmon Kings, because those mofos have to be the least motivated squad in the history of sports.
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Not to say that I'm backed into a corner, but I'm fucking backed into a corner right now. I know you see what these dogs are pulling and if you're not nervous, you're out of your mind. You see that dog in the fry suit? He is absolutely bringing it right now. He even has two fake hands to hold his disproportionately sized Happy Meal and large Coke--in fact they all have hands. Even that creepy ass smiley-faced costume is baller as hell.

Right now, the plan for myself, Craw, and crew is a barbershop quartet, but with 5 people. Don't give me the "that's a quintet man", you'll sound like an asshole. The main concern is that these dogs are killin' it out here like they weren't even trying. The fact that I was beaten to the punch by a set of canines if extremely alarming.

In another world, Dub Jeezy would have suggested the fast food items/creepy smiley faced dude idea promptly at 7:14pm on the 19th of September--just would have been a trend setter. These dogs may have won the battle, but their inability to speak, use thumbs, and reason, will allow me to win the war.

Saturday, October 16, 2010

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I gotta say...all these UFO sightings lately are starting to mess with my head. Makes me rehash the ending scene in Men In Black that quite simply puts everything in perspective. Dub Jeezy tells me I'm crazy when I say this, but our entire existence could solely depend on the fungus under some aliens big toe in another layer of life (graphic, crazy, outlandish - yeah but it's worth a it?).

I don't know if its okay to have a Will Smith comedy change your thoughts on existence... Wasn't too difficult for me to buy into it but nothing really is. On a completely unrelated side note, allow me to shift your attention to the theme song. Can't reference MIB without showcasing the Fresh Prince too (check 40 seconds in when he flashes the business card...awesome).

Thursday, October 14, 2010

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Check this kid taking in wisdom from Washington Redskins kickers. If I'm the parent watching on from the sidelines here...this is the moment where I see my sons bright future ahead. Field goal kicking and punting...nothing else. How many of us wanted to be star Quarterbacks, shooting guards and starting shortstops in the pros. When I was in 5th grade I was convinced I'd be playing for the New England Patriots...So that didn't quite pan out, but at least my job consists of selling their tickets.

I wish there was a time when a pro kicker pulled me aside at the age of six and said "look kid, you wanna be in the Bigs? Stick to the necessities here.  All you have to do is start punting the shit out of the ball for the next 12 years and you're there. 100 reps a day. No throwing, passing, running routes. We're skipping the high school glory days and going right to the NFL." Straight wisdom for the common man right there.

How many kickers were practicing their craft at an early age? It's sort of that position in high school where the coach looks around and says "alright guys so who can kick it the farthest?" In 35 years I will have raised a professional bowler, Olympic curler and field goal kicker...and now you all know how.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

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is wayyy better than:

The Carlton dance is like the 7 year locusts. It disappears for a strangely consistent amount of time and then reappears and figuratively fucks shit up for like 2 months. Right now we are seeing this locust dance descend upon the NFL and eat away at the dance monopoly that was the dougie for the past few weeks. Good riddance if you ask me.

Oh shit, wait:
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Aside from the fact that the game follows the trials and tribulations of a rapping dog, this game digs into much more concerning issues. Issues include: the rapping dog's love interest being a Sunflower, a bear DJ, a sidekick cat stuck in the 70s, and wise cracking instructional onion. Put that insanity aside even further and just let yourself into the game like I did when I received this strange, strange gift on my birthday in '96.

Keep in mind this is the era when Rap is all about respect, battling, and overall being more badass than the next guy. Like Biggie and Pac were dying and shit, Dr. Dre first mentioned that he may, possibly be interested in making Detox, and (^)orange frog hats were NOT in. I came into the game expecting it to be rated "M" for mature, fully prepared to build up my hood story, and maybe purchase a gun or 2, but nooo, I was receiving instruction from an old ass onion in a dojo on how to rap. After the wind was officially taken out of my sails, I see that my rapping earned the eye/interest of a fucking Sunflower, yes..Sunflower. Granted it was a hot Sunflower, but a plant nonetheless. Even at 9, I knew that a dog-flower combination can't produce viable results. Before my hands let me put down the controller, the game didn't let me off the hook because I was getting patronized by a DJ'n Bear.

You best believe Parappa the Rapper collected dust thereafter. Off subject though, I'd love a rapping dog as a pet. In a fucking second.
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Not buying it. Not one bit. No offense here, but no one can have tourette's that bad that conveniently. Dude was so off point that he was on point with his tourette's reaction to Rick Asshole. Granted, he may have gotten "Rick Roll'd" and is possibly touretting the shit out of this because he's pissed.

I remember I just couldn't figure the internet out one day. I was on Youtube scouring for interesting videos to put on the blog one day and got Rick Roll'd like 7 times in a row. Just a poor showing on my part. I was getting lead from Elmo videos, to KFC commercials, to Rihanna 911 calls and seeing Rick Astley's face every step I took. Shit was embarrassing.

I change my stance on this. Dude probably has tourettes. Nothing wrong with that. But this is probably the same exact reaction he would have had to singing to this song immediately after getting Rick Roll'd when he was trying to search for "The Situation's" Dancing With The Stars final performance...

I'm just saying...

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

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On this not so ordinary Tuesday I happened to see a total of three Fu Manchu's and I was completely baffled. One being my co-worker, I chuckled at first but eventually just couldn't stand to look at him. The Fu Manchu will undoubtedly get a laugh in all scenarios for a good five minutes. Classroom, party, office, in line at the grocery store, you name it..

But after that it starts to sink in that yes, this kid did just spend time in front the mirror crafting his facial hair to really look like that. Take this subpar looking gentleman in the purple Devil Rays shirt for instance. This Fu Manchu certainly wasn't rushed. It appears as though he actually got picky to align both sides just right to the point where he felt as though he should rock it for the next couple of days. Probably even made it his facebook picture for a while...

The only (not so) notable character with the Fu Man Chu was in Sly Stallone's 1987 arm wrestling movie Over the Top (why the hell do I know that?). But brace yourselves because the style is apparently alive and well.
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Bonjour bitches. Let me introduce you all to the Slanket Armchair, known by some as "The Slarmchair."

Tell me that you won't quit your job/school/life for this thing. It's like having a baby x 4000. Something that comes in and takes over your life and becomes your all day, everyday focus for years to come. Hell, I might even set aside a college fund for this bad boy.

I'll be in the stands with my condescending, but supportive looks at all of my Slarmchair's sports games. I'm super pumped to share the rest of my life with the inevitable sleeved-blanket-armchair-contraption I'm bound to get for my birthday.

Something has catapulted to the top of the list Mom! Step your game up por favor.
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I know I've called myself a scientist an annoying amount of times on this blog, but seriously, I'm no scientist, but this doesn't look like the best method of rescuing people. Hell I wouldn't even let that shit bring my puppy from the depths.

We've all seen "The Jetsons" right? The whole "this is what the future is going to be like spiel" that clearly wasn't accurate. No hovercars, no food pellets, and according to the sticky spots on the floor at the crib, there's certainly no Rosie the robot around saving all our asses. It looks like real life decided to skip all the cool shit like floating cars and slave robots and immediately jumped into making the "Air Chute" popularized by George Jetson. Dude was late to work, he tied a written excuse to a brick and chute(d) that thang on over to Spacely within 7 seconds. No explanation of how it got there, but the only "logical" reason had to be some sort of air suction/expulsion system. Again, I'm not a scientist, nor did I guest star on that underground Jetsons episode as the sole black character, but that doesn't seem like it'd work period--let alone on a human body.

Apparently, we've had like 3 months to think about how we'd go about saving these people from tectonic plate death or what have you, and all we came up with were Jetson air tubes? Put me on the scene. Not saying I'll come up with a better idea, but I'd probably come up with the air tube idea maybe the third day in and have everyone at the boardroom table laugh it off, because an idea like that is clearly a joke and should never be considered.

I'll tell you who I don't want to be right now: 1) Stranded Chilean Miner--shit's not baller, 2) Air Tube operator--you can't control the air unless you're a Planeteer, 3) Dude who came up with this idea--people can only say "whoops, my bad" so many times.

Friday, October 8, 2010

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Yup, rocks all up in my sink. Not even a rock within 100 feet of my place, but the sinks filled with rocks. That's what happens when you share a bathroom with a dude of the exact same age and ethics as you. Straight no regard/care for communal space or products. Toothpaste, hell even a toothbrush on a REAL hungover morning is fair game. I ask said bathroom-mate to you know, pick up the next body wash because we are going tandem on those--guess what? Dude comes back with two novels. One a joke book, and one a legitimate Pulitzer nominee. I mean, I'm pleased with the new arrivals, but these balls aren't going to get clean with sheer elbow strength. A brotha needs some sort of Old Spice product on the mini-shelf to the side. I don't even care if it's "Swagger" or "After Hours", the kid's just trying to smell reasonable for his daily endeavors.

Let's talk about the "crust consumption" that the sink is pulling right now. It looks like a god damn rainbow shot itself in the face in our sink. Colors that haven't been seen since the 99 crayon Crayola box. Mauve and perriwinkle stains all over the sides of the sink. While being half my fault, I don't even understand how these things could happen. Like, does a deadly combo of toothpaste and deodorant create strange colors? Don't know, frankly don't care because guess what? Not my problem. Apparently not my bathroommate's either.

So, I guess we're stuck in a game of "who's going to get the next body wash" chicken right now, which is frankly, fucked up. No one wins and we have to use Isopropyl Alcohol to clean the places where the sun don't shine.

Kidding, we don't wash our bodies with alcohol...we just drink it--if you read this post and thought I wasn't drunk, you're straight stupid.
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I wanna say that this is how Diet Coke makes me feel on a daily basis. Clearly it doesn't... So I'll just go ahead and admit that it's completely inexcusable to down six while casually dining at a restaurant. Six, yes, six Diet Cokes in one sitting.

It took for somebody across the table to call me out when I came to the realization. Sort of like checking in on a friend at the bar saying "whoa dude, how many beers have you had you better take it easy." But no, it was merely an ordinary zero calorie soda thats intake should never reach triple digits in ounces.

I wish the clip above could really sum up why I drink so much soda. That right there just looks like an awesome time. I, however, had a sugar rush, trip to the bathroom and a handful of headaches that followed. Even so, does anyone out there agree with me that 12 oz cans are pointless? Gotta be at least 24 right? (my bad...I'll just have to adjust with the rest of society on this one)

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

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Haha, Kendall I feel you. If I had some sort of compensation for every time I had to tell a "I'm black, so this can only happen to me" story to my majority white friends, it goes exactly like this. There's the kid next to me that has NO idea what's up in society and is just dying laughing. It's almost offensive how much he's laughing, but you need that friend. Makes the story way better. Than there's the chorus of unnamed white friends that are just like, "Wow, who woulda thunk it?"

Sure I've made up some tales. Hey what's that mark on your side.."Oh, that's a gunshot wound", "Hey man, Doo Rag, nice, what's that for"--"Oh, it's religious, for black people religion"--"Sick man." Dude had raw, unprocessed cotton in his pocket.

Funny video, check it out if you didn't.
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Yeah, check the Red Ape's face. That's the exact same face that I made when I beat the game after 117 levels. Yes, 117 levels of the same song and fucking dance. The only real conversation that could have occurred based on this game's premise is: "Yo, Lizard, you want to climb a skyscraper, eat like 7 humans, a toilet, some poison, a dollar sign, and avoid the military for 117 straight days?" I can't even conceive another conversation that could have possibly happened.

They literally only ate people, dollar signs, and toilets for a long, long time. They were also logically thinking humans (made into giants by the government..I think), so there's no primal instinct excuse that can be tied to it. They were genetically restructured people left on a city block of 5 apartment buildings and an unlimited amount of cars. WAY more cars than people that could possibly live in the 5 buildings. I just remember one day my cousin and I committed ourselves to beating that game. The thought process was that the ending has to be ridiculously baller because the game was so repetitive/boring for what seemed like forever. Dad brought in some Mountain Dew, saw the intensity in our eyes and dipped out, knowing what was being attempted. It had to be a crisp 4am when we finally got through the game, and guess what? A spaceship picks up the "human" forms of the Ape and Lizard--credits roll. What?!

That was it. I've never been blue-balled worse in my entire life. Rampage, solified as the wackest game I've ever played.
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Just one of those times where you should just take off the pads, unlace the skates and never return to the ice. Dude just pulled off some Mighty Ducks tricks between the speed of Luis Mendoza and finesse of Kenny Wu.  Really got the crowd laughing, screaming and heckling...all at the goalies expense while he was too busy being distracted and dizzy to prevent the love tap at the end from going in.

What a confident puck handler though. Seriously that could've turned into a much different scenerio. I could be posting on this video in light of the shooter's inabilities to make it past the blue line cause he tripped over the puck he was trying to flash around. This time we'll just have to say best of luck to the goal keeper...hope you're still employed man.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

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Oh Omar Epps, we've all been there. We all let the wrong thing slip out at some point. Never to this extent, but I may have spout out that I wanted to eat boogers or something back in 3rd grade, so I get you.

The thing that concerns me most is that Omar seems really enthused by this idea. Like he's certainly PUMPED to engage in cannibalism with a woman of the night. I'm pumped for Pizza. Omar Epps/Possibly Mike Tomlin is ecstatic about eating a star in the field of pornography.

To each his own I guess? Right? This almost fully explains the fact that Omar Epps has been out of the movie game for what seems like the better part of a decade
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Sounds harsh I know, but hear me out here. I'm generally the perfect gentleman when it comes to giving up my seat on the train. It's usually that brief eye contact with the old woman and then some quick eye contact with the hot girl in the corner to let her know that I'm giving my seat she knows.

Creepiness aside, my limits have officially been pushed. I'm starting to get walked on like a god damn welcome mat up in this piece. Just getting on the T and people staring at me just expecting me not to sit down. It's basically at the point where if I sit down, people are offended. Like I'm getting these, "Pfft, look at this able-bodied guy just taking a potential seat away from a potentially old/disabled person..what an asshole" looks left and right. Really? I'm tired, 27% chance I'm hungover, and my knee hurts because I did something athletic 5 days earlier--can I at least get a quick seat? Just a quick one, I'll get up in a few stops. Nope. Society won't give me that.

Let's talk about the women and children here. I'm cutting the age mark at about 52 years of ages and below 4 years old. Not cutting it where I'll give you a seat. My heart has been carved into a cold and black rock in regard to T rides. You have to be 52+ or 4 and below for me to consider giving you a seat. You can be right up on my thigh staring holes into my head. I will not budge. Shit has been upgraded to Code Red/Blue (still not clear on which is worse) for me to give you my seat. There needs to a clear disability present as well as a note from an accredited "Doctor's of America" doctor with a diagnosis. Then and only then you will get my seat woman or child. A cold, cold heart has been built these past few years everyone. An ice cold heart. Old men? Forget about it.

Don't get mad, aren't they saying that America's overweight anyway?

Monday, October 4, 2010

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When Dub J and the roommates questioned my decision to bring a mini basketball hoop into the new place this picture was the only thing that could back me up. Our own President calling plays and running routes with his staff is certainly a good enough reason for me to be able to get a few shots up in the living room.

So things are looking up for now. There were definitely some quality mini-hoop games in the midst of our weekend activities...But I should admit...we've already been through two minor "incidents" seven days in. The first came when somebody managed to miss the rim by a good five feet, where the ball proceeded to "tap" the top of the new TV we just chipped in damage = no one upset. The other mis-hap was when we left a plate of 30 wings out. Let's just say we had a few stranded honey BBQ's with a side of blue cheese all over the floor. I cleaned it up + no damage = no one upset.

At this point it's too late for me to take action and announce to everyone that "hey, maybe this is sort of a bad idea." Everyone's already hooked. I get home from work everyday to see the guys gathered around that hoop working up a sweat. But what happens when shit (literally) hits the fan? Who's gonna be the first to break what object? Right now I'm undoubtedly the man (statement), but lets see where I'm at when one of the guests becomes a bit over zealous with their wall shots during a friendly game of PIG...I guess we'll just have to wait and see.
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The new craze that's hitting cool kid nation. Basically it's asking your friend (let's call him Craw here for now), actually, putting your friend on the spot, and saying, "Yo, what do you see yourself doing at 12:37 on Saturday." It's quite the loaded question. Like, hey drop whatever you're doing and predict what shit you're getting into 6 days from now.

Well, I asked Craw this last week and he gave me the perfect response of: "Sweating. Possibly on the dance floor, but definitely sweating." Amen, brother. Because what did we end up doing on Saturday? Sweating fucking bullets. Covered in a concoction of rain, dirt, and sweat in the bar depths, you can find Craw and I, back-to-back in the middle of a dance circle quite resemblant of Chris Tucker and Jackie Chan during any Rush Hour movie.

It's also pretty damn sad that I can only think of 4 legitimate things I can be doing at that hour. It comes down to dancefloor, fast food, video games, or the rare chance I'm "hanging" out with a girl. That's it. You won't hear shit about the kid Dub Jeezy catching a "show" or "going out to dinner" on a Saturday night. Not that those things are wack/boring. My lifestyle is just piss poor. The pissest of poor. No variety or change. Just Bud Lights, Burger King, Smash Brothers, and making out. Nothing more nothing less.

So seriously, what are YOU doing at 12:37AM on Saturday?
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There's no denying that this dog IS hot shit. Making waves and crossing bridges for all those aspiring dogs out there.

Here's the thing though. Is this dog a dude or a chick? It has all the grace and elegance of a chick dog, with the cockiness and swag of a dude. Guess the only explanation is that this dog is a gay dude, because as we all know, gay guys are the most dangerous people on the dance floor. Equipped with enhanced dance moves and the lack of creepiness towards women, they create quite the advantage for themselves. A tip of the hat is necessary

I see you homosexual dog, I see you.

Friday, October 1, 2010

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So I went to a concert at the Paradise Rock Club this week and it was a great time. Not only was the band rockin' out but the 200 people in attendance were honestly the most interesting collective group of people I've seen in a long time.

I know concerts are generally judge free zones but how can you not people watch. First you got the unorthodox group of guys with ear plugs in high fiving other. Then you got the middle aged white woman with dreads all the way down to her knees reaching up to the Gods. Then there's the girl who drags her boyfriend out cause its her absolute favorite band, and as she drools over the lead singer he's forced to dance along too...causing for a handful of uncomfortable occurrences.

The craziest thing I saw was the guy directly in front of me...looked exactly like this...chose to passionately shake his head from left to right throughout the entire show. What ever happend to the standard head nod. Nope, dude insisted on a horizontal lifestyle. But at the end of it all...everyone's looking at the motionless one in the back with a beer in his hand just not fitting in...that was me.