Tuesday, November 30, 2010

// //

Damn Kel. Way to hide yourself under a rock for roughly 11 years and then emerge with this shit. Really dawg? Just going to piggy back a Soulja Boy trend after you formulated millions of kids' humor back in the late 90s? You created Dub Jeezy. You probably didn't create Craw. G probably thought you were hot. You were a big part of WMD and now I see you making a fool out of yourself. What are you 37? I know you just signed a deal for a new cartoon show called "Orange Soda Boy", but that doesn't mean you act a fool all up on Youtube. You pop a champagne bottle and cash your check.

Shit man, I'm disappointed.
// //

Before we break this down, we have to assume both of these men died minutes after these pictures were taken--because the art of baller 100% means putting your life in danger.

First off, I'm real weirded out by these animals' lack of alarm in relation to these dudes riding on their back. And what's that dude holding in the lion picture? A fucking Jai Alai whipper? I don't get it. Dudes that play sports like that are NOT pictured riding lions. Got to award points there for sheer surrealism.

Bear dude is rockin' some Brett Favre, Wranglers commercial gear like it ain't no thang. We can all see where he's coming from not trying to wear nice clothes while riding a bear, but still, it's an "every man" sort of way to go about it. His lackadaisical approach to the whole "I'm riding a bear" ordeal is kind of off-putting, ya know? For that I will not award the bear guy the winner. I will pull a Wild-Card play and flip the script. This picture is the winner, because I own a turtle and these are clearly the most baller animals in the game.

Monday, November 29, 2010

// //

So it looks like the Miami Heat won't be breaking any regular season records in 2010... LeBron, D-Wade and Co. are all pointing fingers and the Whiskey Tango is certainly paying the price. The bar is reportedly obligated to serve up to $25 per customer whenever the Heat lose...Not the best idea for a promotion with Miami's super team hovering just above .500 18 games into the regular season.

"We're pretty much unprotected from an insurance standpoint, so we're kind of at the mercy of the Heat," John Todora, co-owner of the bar, told CNBC. "But we're happy we did this. It has given us so much publicity." Well John, better hope you get enough publicity to cover the $30,000 lost in car bombs gift wrapped to Celtics fans on vacation this month. Sounds like one hell of a time to me.
// //

Finally Harvard has decided to pull it's weight in the science field huh? Not like they've done anything of note EVER. Pfft. But seriously, Harvard are turning mice into Ben Button.

Mice. Always tormenting me. Whether they're skittering around the oven at my old apartment or ruining my newly purchased bread, they're just not cool animals. Assholes if you ask me. Test that fountain of youth serum on me, not them. You know I'll appreciate it, while they'll continue to poop anywhere and everywhere to the point that you're impressed that they managed to poop in the back of the freezer. I digress.

I want out of age 23 so bad, you have no idea. Shit got real super fast once that college diploma hit the palm of my hand. You can pick any age prior to 22 really and I was probably having a better time in general. Sure the title of this blog would need to be adjusted (A Non-Working and Strictly Video Game Playing Child's Diary?), but the overall pizazz would be there and I'd still crush it on the social commentary/funny life situations scene. Seven year old me would probably post something along the lines of "Not Tryin' To Eat These Peas Mom" or "Can A Brotha At Least Get A Tamagotchi." The simpler times really. No waking up for "responsibilities" or supporting myself. Most people would want to wait until they're like 85 to pull of this little caper..not me. I know what's ahead and shit is looking grim.

I'm trying to get entrenched in a gentle mix of senior year of high school and freshman year of college. Essentially a year when you don't give a shit combined with a year where you get a ton of girls. Plus I'd still be a legitimate athlete. None of this, "I have to wake up early tomorrow" business or being unable to grab the rim on a 9 foot hoop.

How much you trying to bet that I'm not plotting a Harvard laboratory break-in right now?
// //

I hope to God your answer is no. I hope it was a real quick no too. One of those answer before you read the question type things. At first glance you'd think these shoes were covered in glittery mud of some sort of excrement. You're probably wondering how much someone would need to pay you to wear these things.

Have no fear as this shoe is not covered in glittery mud/excrement, but instead covered in sterling silver, because you know, that's practical. MJ's former ball-and-chain decided it was a pretty appropriate birthday gift to have 40 of his rookie-year shoes dipped in pure sterling silver and charging a very reasonable 40 grand for them. Apparently the CEO of Gatorade has one, so I guess all the cool kids are getting them. I'll just wait for the price to dip before I consider it.

How heavy are these shoes? Like 14 pounds? My hops are suffering enough without putting the weight of an infant on my feet.
// //

God damnit. What is so wrong with a slightly overweight 23-year old Irish ticket broker getting lost in Rihanna's latest tracks while stuck in his cubicle. Everything. Well I'm sorry but I just can't help it.

Somebody had to say it. Who isn't testing out the sound system when Only Girl (In the World) or What's My Name pops on for the third time in that hour? It's between screaming or giving a nonchalant fist pump in the moment but either way...the excitement is there.

Rihanna if you ever want to break things off with Matt Kemp the big guy is available. Take away the overall qualities that include being rich, great looking and a starting outfielder for the LA Dodgers then I'd say I stack up fairly well.
// //

What's the real spirit of Thanksgiving? Though Craw's portrait of completely awkward and almost unbearable family encounters was close, and Dub Jeezy's noting of the ridiculousness of the Energizer Bunny still being on Parade for no reason whatsoever was absolutely on point, I think we all know what Thanksgiving is about.
It could be football. It could be excessive amounts of unhealthy food. It could be a celebration of some assholes in black and white frocks stealing Pocahontas's land so she could never paint with all the colors of the wind. (I mean, I can't. Can you?)
(Is that tear black? What is going on?!?)
Though it COULD be all of those things... the real reason for the season is and always has been shopping. Not just regular shopping... shopping to the death. At midnight. Or 4am. Depending on how zealous your store is. Thanksgiving is all just preparation. For Black Friday shopping, and then for total consumer pandemonium right up until the birth of Christ.

What can you really say about our society as a whole when a GOOD Black Friday for a typical retailer is one in which no customer gets trampled? "Way to go, guys!! No one DIED trying to get a discounted toaster today!" Yep, that about sums it up for our country. And Thanksgiving. 

Seeeeee ya, placeholder Holiday. Bring on Santa Clause. 

P.S. Does Pocahontas count as a Disney princess? I mean, she was a princess, technically...

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

// //

Co-blogger Dub Jeezy recently expressed how great it would be to view a Craw family sky cam at the Thanksgiving Day table...I honestly couldn't agree more. First off there's always a good amount of unspoken competition between the big boys in the house. My dad, brother and I used to split two large pizzas and fight all the way down to that sixteenth slice... explaining why every plate that's ever been placed in front of me is polished off in four minutes flat. Just imagine what happens when we get in the buffet line or sit around the Turkey Day spread.

Secondly, you never know which cousin will decide to bust out the most wildly inappropriate comment right in the thick of the family festivities. Just waiting on somebody to ask about that one ridiculously drunken facebook picture that slipped through the cracks to the homepage before I could delete it...Perhaps bring up the handful of sub-par relationships I've been in...maybe a shift in conversation from one relatives promotion to inquiring about my raise (the answer is no...no raise).

Then we inevitably shift to the general holiday sports talk that circulates the greater New England area...NFL games on TV...Miami Heat...Why the Celtics are better...Bruins (lesser priority - sorry)...Red Sox off-season conversation (no one really gives a shit - but you've already discussed everything else). Reminiscing the high school Glory days with the uncles is entirely optional. May respectively dismiss myself at that point for some girl talk and unwanted blueberry crumble (god damnit).

So there are some of the unavoidable scenarios in land O'Craw before the alcoholic beverages are thrown into the mix (we don't have to go there). Craw family sky cam it is? Wishing everyone a pleasently bearable Thanksgiving from WMD.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

// //

In light of Thanksgiving coming around, I want to avoid being thankful for anything, because frankly, it's not baller. Instead I want to improve upon some things. Namely, being that fucking weirdo in the background of pictures.

One of the worst feelings around is seeing an email that says "G tagged you in 7 pictures (oh by the way, you look weird/creepy in a majority of these)." Like, come on. A) Why didn't anyone ask me to be in these pictures? B) Did someone ask me to be in a pic and I just blatantly chose to pop up at the flash behind someone's shoulder? These are the power questions that I need answered before I check into therapy for Facebook-Picture-Insecurities (FPI...they'll put it on the psychological spectrum sooner or later).

Look at this dude pictured above. He's immortalized forever as that scary creeper that wanted to eat Jessica Simpsons children. For the time being, I'm that guy on a much smaller scale. Anytime someone takes a look at G's latest album I'll be on display looking like a god damn vagrant. Her friends are probably like, "Yo, 124 pictures were cool, but two of them really bothered me with that creepy guy peering over everyone's shoulders. I frankly can't look at your albums anymore." With that G, I'm sorry, it's the cross I bear. Sometimes I drink a pineapple juice, Sprite, Vodka concoction and shit goes awry.

Good luck on traveling home to your respective towns. It's going to be a bitch on the roads.
// //

When has the Energizer Bunny been relevant? The "it keeps going and going" jokes have been out of circulation for at least 10 years right? Dude is still making regular appearances at the big parade year after year. The parade organizers are just getting lazy over there. Must be a bunch of old geezers talking about the perils of Hip-Hop music and junk food, discussing the simpler times when the Energizer Bunny and Little Caesar's Pizza was making waves.

In the defense of the parade committee, what could we honestly put up for floats this year? Mike "The Situation? A Four Loko can? Seriously, this was one our worst years as people. Not an ounce of progress in medicine or in politics. The reason we have irrelevant characters and random slices of pizza out there is because we as a country are too embarrassed to feature what really happened this year. Shit's ridiculous.

Monday, November 22, 2010

// //

Come Thursday afternoon when you think you've eaten as much as possible just think of Sonya 'The Black Widow' Thomas crushing 10 pounds of Turkey in 12 minutes...defeating a handful of the most dangerous heavyweight competitors to ever hit the eating circuit.

Quite a feat for the only female weighing in at no more than 100 pounds. Just a different way to express thankfulness, gratitude, and appreciation for the bountiful harvest in front of her. No excuses when you see that extra slice of cranberry sauce left on the table. Dessert can wait.
// //

It's tough to break down these pics because frankly..I don't know what's going on. I can only imagine this is what "Inception" would be like if goats and sheep directed it. Just pure lunacy from a physics standpoint.

First picture features roughly 23 thousand sheep going in and out of tunnels that look to be constructed by Wile E. Coyote. And from the looks of things, it appears that a duo of dogs and dudes are commanding this fleet, which is just straight up impressive. For a man and his pup to have the wherewithal and the free time to circumnavigate cartoon tunnels is worth a slow clap. On that note, it would take roughly 5 million dollars and a signed letter from Tim Burton telling me he's not involved in that zany construction for me to even consider leading these sheep on this journey. Hell it'd be like Oregon Trail out there. Every 15 paces, like 4 sheep would get dysentery, two would die from fording the river, and the dogs would get snake bites.

Second picture features what appears to be goats with suction cups on their feet. Now how a guy gets suction cups to fit the hoof of a goat is beyond me, but that's why he gets paid the (figurative) big bucks. These things are seriously walking up the wall like it ain't no thang. The slightest of inclines and I'm on my ass. I probably have the worst balance in the game without alcohol being added to the equation. As soon as I stopped playing organized sports, my body stopped caring about getting me from point A to point B effectively. Shit's a joke. I've got goats making a mockery of me now--scaling the god damn Hoover Dam just for fun, while I can barely tie my shoes without getting dizzy.

What happened to petting zoos featuring animals that didn't participate in Tim Burton-like illusions?
// //

^"Everybody knows he's a motherf------ monster!"

I'm not one to use lame catchphrases or quotes, but this man is literally a force of nature. If that force of nature was built exclusively upon the idea of dunking on tall European white guys. There'd be hurricanes, tsunamis, tornadoes, mudslides, and dunks-upon-tall-European-white-dudes as the complete rundown of all things we're going to have to worry about in 2012.

Seriously, I can see it now. The news would be running ongoing stories about how houses in North America were getting wrecked by Earthquakes and tornadoes. India would be erased by an even fiercer tsunami and all of Europe would be decimated by the arrival of Blake Griffin just dunking on all males upon exiting their homes. It'd be a massacre. Just dude after dude with nut imprints on their foreheads wondering what the fuck just happened.

Or 2012 will feature exclusively zombies. Either or really.

Friday, November 19, 2010

// //

I'm still waiting for the day I find someone "Super Mario" drunk. Actually, I'm putting drunkness aside and pointing the flashlight at the giant hallucinogenic elephant in the room called mushrooms. The only way you'll see that above is if you abuse copious amounts of 'shrooms, opium, or drink two Four Lokos at your predictable yet still hilarious "Four Loko Prohibition" party. Speakeasy Bros and Flapper Hoes?

Seriously though, I've received like 4 texts this week all of the "Yo man, I just bought $4,000 worth of Loko" ilk. I mean, good job? I'm extremely regretful after I spend $3.11 on Loko let alone harvesting a small farm of that stuff, but yet again, to each his/her own.

Peace out Loko. May our paths never cross again.
// //

Kim Kardashian is SO average. Wait, what?

The New York Times recently did a profile article on Kim Kardashian as she opened up a new jewelry line with Bebe. They interviewed a few adoring fans flocking around the reality tv star, style entrepreneur and sex tapestress (made that one up, but I LIKE it) and asked the fans what Kim represented to them.
Everyone was kind of confused when Kardashian fan, 22 year old Julie Sunday from Scranton PA, said Kim represents, "The average girl." Random blogs have been popping up with MORE articles just about this comment, as everyone scrambles to associate this ridiculously glam girl with the word "average."

Last time I checked the millionaire socialite party scene wasn't available to typical American youth, but hey, I'll roll with it. I mean, if people are famous for being overweight (Biggest Loser), pregnant (Teen Mom), AND/OR just generally obscene human beings (Jersey Shore), then is Kimmy really so special for being famous for being famous? Or is she just famous because she's got sex appeal?

Who knows? But hey, I've got nothing to lose. I'll jump on Sunday's outrageous, nonsensical bandwagon.... Kim Kardashian: gorgeous, rich, skyrocketing celeb status and her own jewelry & clothing lines? Pfft.... SO average.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

// //

Full of zest. Full of vigor. Just a kid in a candy store getting all the words wrong and annoying his teammates.

Fast forward like 54 minutes and here is our boy. God speed Chad and your FLIMSY ass shoulder. May your immortal Madden measurables of 68 Throw Power and 99 Throw Accuracy live on forever.
// //

Man, I can't believe Family Feud is still relevant in 2010...sort of. So that's where Steve Harvey has been all this time...Just falling off the map but but suddenly reappearing on sub par late night/morning television. So many questions and so little answers provided...

First of all how the hell do people qualify for this show? How confident was this guy on the right when he stepped up to shout out naked grandma? Funny how Steve Harvey and the other contestant sort of shrugged their shoulders all nonchalant and proceeded to voice their opinions on the matter..."I mean, I don't wanna see a naked grandma not me..."

At the end of it all the guy is rewarded points. Who are these judges making the call to match naked grandma with guy/occupant? I guess you could argue on technicalities but come on...outrageous. Just another reason why you won't catch me on Game Show Network from 12:30-1:00 am.
// //
^I flirt my ASS off on the reg and believe me, it has never involved discussing the Eiffel Tower and/or holding a wine glass ever so eloquently.

So these crack researchers went ahead and decided that if you flirt better you will receive better results on the game field. Thank god for these guys, you know. I've had multiple instances where I've been out and wondering how to go about things. Like, should I try to be interesting and listen to what she has to say? Or should I just go up to girls and sing the chorus of Akon ft. Snoop Dogg's "I Wanna **** You" directly to their face? According to these "scientists", I should probably be "that" guy girls want to talk to.

Seriously Kansas researchers? Is the well running bone dry in the realm of research projects or something? Tell me something I don't know. Maybe straight facts about the correlation between my flirting methods and life expectancy. Some enlightening shit would be to find out if the 2 hours I wasted dancing to Taio Cruz and Usher would eventually lead to my quicker death.

Let me kick a little knowledge backatcha Kansas research team. Flirting is directly related to a video game. Hear me out here. Every step is like a level. The eye contact and conversation initiation is equivalent to sacking up and spending $60 on that game you want. The next level, otherwise known as "basic conversation" is an easy stage that routinely gets overlooked. Kind of like that first level in Mario where you randomly just fall down a hole because you timed your jump wrong. That's followed by "getting let in" as I like to call it. Once you're let in, you're free to dance or seek some privacy in a "quieter part" of the bar to continue more in-depth conversation. So on and so forth it goes until you reach the Bowser/Koopa/Hooking up level.

Just comparing hooking up and Super Mario Brothers..that's what we do over here.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

// //

Boston.com reported earlier today that a three-year old girl was found with 17 bags of crack cocaine in one of her shoes at pre school. The staffers at Roxbury Head Start program were certainly in for quite a surprise when she complained about her bothered foot. A 19-year old gentleman confessed he stashed the drugs...but the police report quotes the child as saying "my mommy put it in my shoes and said it was candy.'' (woops)

Just trying to sit back and reflect on what I was dealing with at the age of 3. Probably just learned how to put my shirt on right...Distinguished the difference between spoon and fork...almost fully toilet trained...Clearly nothing too strenouous.

So next time you feel as though your day could be a bit smoother, just keep in mind you're not stumbling into heavy drugs while teaching a toddler how to tie her shoe at school. Words to live by.
// //
--> Portrait of G on a Tuesday evening
So I'm not sure what to make of a world where the creepy middle-aged man checking me out as I walk to my T-stop doesn't hit me with any normal creepy slurred pick-up line, but instead, looks at me once, does a double take, then says, in complete seriousness, and actually kind of happily, seeming amazed at his profound discovery, "You look like the exact personification of a cupcake."

Well, thank God... I don't know what I'd do if I was the INEXACT personification of a cupcake. But seriously. This is not a comment I was prepared for. Let me review my fashion choices of the evening: going to the gym, wearing black yoga pants, sneakers, and an admittedly nice light purple hoodie from Victoria's Secret. But still... a hoodie.  I didn't feel like a cupcake.

I guess I didn't seem as thrilled about my newfound cupcake identity as our new friend anticipated. He seemed to think he had cleared something up for me that I probably always wondered about, that he and I were communicating and I just wasn't getting it.

"No," he said, "I mean like, a GOOD one."

He was completely serious. He was not leering with sexual innuendo (though we can clearly all draw the obvious one), and I think he just really thought, in that moment, that there was only one exact personification of a cupcake, and I was it. It was all very clear to him. And what's more, I was a GOOD cupcake.

So, creepy street man, you are still creepy as hell, but I think you win this one, simply because I can't remember the last time I've been as sure about anything as you are that I am a cupcake personified.
The exact personification of a cupcake.... Okay. Fine. I'll take it.
// //

This clown masked dude really sets the bar for lowest of the low as far as people go. First off, he went with the clown mask approach that hasn't been effectively used since like 1950, and secondly, he robbed an old woman (which in his defense is pretty standard for robbery), and thirdly (and grossly), this woman was using the toilet.

There should be some rules and/or guidelines within the realm of robbery. I feel like robbing an old woman in a clown suit should be the #1 no-no on the scoundrel Bill of Rights or something. This crime has literally made nothing sacred anymore. If we don't have the toilet, what do we have. Aside from doing "work" on the can, it's a good spot to just kick back and chill. In my case nap, but to each his own.

Was it worth it bro? Was blackballing yourself in the world of crime worth $28 old woman dollars and $1000 in costume jewelry? Ehh, it was probably worth it for the costume jewelry.

Monday, November 15, 2010

// //

Talk about sneaking right under our noses huh? I feel like this is a "Tom and Jerry" cartoon when Jerry would sneak up next to a passed out Tom and arrange like 1000 mousetraps around him without waking him up. Except this is real life and this is a book on "How To Be a Successful Pedophile." We, America are Tom in this scenario and this Phillip Greaves mofo, is that little bastard Jerry. Slept on this guy for like 3 years. Dude had time to sit in his house, get on that old typewriter and have this shit published and on Amazon.

Was the publisher hammered drunk when he gave the ok on this?

-Like, "Wait Phil, before you leave I have something to say about this book. It's pretty concerning. The font on the front is a little off, do you mind making it cursive or something man? Thanks"

No, "This shit is a book about successful pedophile'ing. I'm not publishing this and I'm probably going to punch you in the face." Really dropped the ball guy. Plus, come on Amazon. That hungry for a dollar over there? Thought you were like the number one online retailer or something. Even though the market for this book is incredible for "members" of Family Watchdog, I'm reasonably sure that you don't need those extra few cents in your paychecks fat cats.

Usually I try to end with something funny, but seriously, this book is pretty fucked up.
// //

Buck up Netherlands. Folks, this is nowhere near scary. The Crypt Keeper is scary. If you painted an image of this mofo on this bus (or a lunch box for that matter) the Netherlands would essentially break in like 4 days. People wouldn't go out, drivers would crash and explode, the bus drivers themselves would see their bus' reflection in the mirror of some exploded car and eventually veer off the road. All in all, it wouldn't be a good look for the Dutch or whatever they call themselves these days.

But this image, is baby-land play shit. Just tomfoolery expressed through paint. Like, "Oh snap, we got you guys, because, um, instead of the actual driver being in the window, we painted a driver in a window in place of the window." These are the people that you smack in the face. Generally these are the people that a pumped about driving hybrids or are on the Atkins diet. Thinking they're two steps ahead, when in reality, they're just douchebags.

So, until the mother-effin Crypt Keeper is dominating the scene out there in Deutschland, I recommend you guys chill out, snap back to reality and step your horror tolerance up.

Friday, November 12, 2010

// //

Remember when I said I need to up my style? Well first off the New Balance Factory Outlet shouldn't be the place I turn to for a fresh new pair of shoes. So there I stood browsing (strong emphasis on the word browsing, not purchasing) when I stumbled on a size 13 pair of Heelys. My god.

In that moment I had a vision of me painting the town in those crisp white roller shoes. But then I thought of the number of factors that could end me...including female audiences, me keeping my job and overall dignity. I don't know if Heelys are the best fit for the 250 pound, decently coordinated 23-year old 'young proffesionals' out there. Maybe we'll just leave this one for the kids.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

// //

One of the most eye opening tracks of all time is "No Scrubs" by TLC. I remember being a 12 year old boy hearing this song and just thinking to myself, a) Am I a scrub? and b) Just don't grow up to be a scrub.

Sadly enough, by all accounts I am a scrub. The first line just cuts deep. Digs all up in my core. "A scrub is a guy who thinks he's fly, and is also known as a buster"--DAMN. I think I'm fly at least 100% of the day, so I'm undeniably a buster. That's some harsh realization shit right there. Every other line (eh, every line) basically attacks me too. I'm always "hangin' out the side of my best friend's ride" consistently "hollerin" at random scallywags and nick-nacks on the street. That's like my M.O.

The other issue in the track is said female, "looking like class" while the guy is "looking like trash." This goes back to me being a scrub who thinks he's fly. When I put together a good outfit, am I actually tossing on a trash bag and covering myself in banana peels and debris? Shit this song's depressing.

Do girls actually say, "I don't wanna meet you nowhere?" That's just harsh.
// //
(**actual shot from G's cell phone camera**)

Welcome to this glimpse into my everyday life. This afternoon I took out the trash, and it ended in a life flashing before my eyes near death experience-- with a stuffed animal. Granted, the fiercest most badass stuffed animal EVER... but still, a stuffed animal.

So, normal day, normal things are happening. I grab the trash bag, cross the parking lot, and walk over to the dumpster (we share a massive dumpster with the apartment complex next door), and get up pretty close because, as you may or may not know, I'm kind of a short girl so I'm just going to shove this trash bag right over the edge. As I'm throwing it in, I catch a glimpse mid-toss of a nose, some angry eyes, and most importantly, giant sharp teeth coming at me. I don't even know what went through my head except that I am going to be one of those people who dies in the most RIDICULOUS way possible, because there is a rabid wolf or something in my garbage, and it is about to eat me.

I think I was simultaneously laughing at the weirdness of there being a wild animal in my trash, but also pretty sure that I was screwed. I guess maybe it's what I would feel if I saw a shark fin right before it bit me. Like, "Wow, this could totally be on Shark Week," then I'm dead.

It took me about another 1/2 a second after my initial sheer, complete panic to realize that the thing in the trash wasn't moving, and a 1/2 second more to realize it was stuffed. As my heartbeat slowed down and the sheer terror of death faded, I wondered if someone had planted it there and was now laughing their ass off from one of the apartment windows. Then I realized that no, I was probably the only person stupid enough to completely lose it in the face of a discarded stuffed animal. I whipped out my phone to snap a shot of the scariest thing I had seen in a long time (7 haunted houses at Spooky World and all of AMC's Fearfest in October included) and now I'm posting it here to get a little support, or at least start the next big urban legend.

But help me out people. Let's be serious, you know you DO NOT want to see that staring at you out of a dumpster. I mean, you really don't want to see anything staring at you out of a dumpster, but definitely not that.

Come on, it's at least kind of scary, right?

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

// //

Getting to know us a bit more...This round of work conversations consisted of every entertainment distraction involved in our daily lives...re-emphasizing the fact that we're just a couple guys with nothing going on really...damn.

Craw: the question for friday night is
what should i do?
should i go about my usual antics around the greater boston area
should i get productive, sense what its like to be sober
should i publicize on facebook that I AM NOT A ROLE MODEL
hey dub ;)
should i accept my role as the villain, and proceed to black out every friday and saturday night
should i sell tickets to the best of my abilitity until i simply cant sell anymore
what should i what should i what should i do

Dub J: Glee is on
Craw: yes
Dub J: feel like i havent seen it in awhile
Craw: yeah me too
whats the episode this week
Dub J: no clue
im re-pumped to watch again though
Craw: yo we forgot to watch FNL (Friday Night Lights - best show on television hands down)
Dub J: oh shit
we dont get that channel though right?
Craw: no direct tv
dont know how that works
Dub J: I say we just wait for the season to finish then watch them in bulk
Craw: true - gotta have to take deep breathes and not crack
Dub J: just continuously forget about it every week
Craw: too tough...BUT in other news
this month IS
Dub J: whoa. whoa. WHOA
not opposed to the midnight showing
Craw: im in

Also some talk in regards to new co-blogger G killin' it in week 1. Brought the fear back into our eyes. WMD is in full effect.

Craw: Despite our opinions on the blog name G
I read that post and just thought, "well ok, the name can stay as G"
Dub J: yeah, she shot back - hard
Craw: just put us in our place
Dub J: im intimidated
as a blogger
Craw: dude - im scared        
-Point G
// //

Netflix "Watch Instantly" queues must be fizzling out left and right because the aptly titled, "White Dog" has landed, and it has landed hard.

Like, I'm not even close to mad that there is some "Cujo" related movie sitting in the archives somewhere about a (you guessed it) white dog that solely must kill black people. You cannot tell me there is a more appropriate movie for "Bad Movie Sunday" than this. I won't let you--and believe me, we've already watched "18 Year Old Virgin." The ridiculousness scale will be off the charts. Apparently this dog just crushes black people for like an hour and 48 minutes to the dismay of white people old and young.

I've only watched the muted trailer, but I have a pretty firm grasp of what this movie can be about. Death, violence, destruction, and the overall ending message of: "If this white dog can change, our entire nation can change." Kind of like Rocky at the end of Rocky IV. Ivan Drago and the White Dog are roughly the same and black oppression and the cold war are exactly the same. The parallels are undeniable. Rocky IV is "White Dog."

This movie will get a 5 Star rating out of me on Netflix if it ends with Michael Vick just giggling like a school girl for 2 minutes straight in the background as the credits roll.
// //

It doesn't take much to gain my respect, but it certainly takes a lot to lose it. Namely this thing. Everything about this monstrosity has caused the rare instance of me going out of my way not to respect it.

Seriously, if you regard this "car"as a form of matter, I can't respect you either. Just too many bells and whistles to deal with. If you're crazy like I was to read this article on this piece of shit, you'll notice that it can't even race in the United States. NASCAR said "eff that noise" right away. Too little going right in NASCAR for them to just sign off on some piss poor construction of a vehicle. The novelty will wear off in about -1 second.

So before I completely shut down reading that article up above, I caught some interesting (not really) tidbits. In this back-alley version of racing otherwise known as the "World Rally Championships" these pompous weirdos decide to race in public traffic. Yup. Just like, "Need for Speed" and "Gran Turismo", but way less badass. Way less. The epitome of how wack this sport is can be seen by the fact that the drivers can receive speeding tickets midway through races. Fucking speeding tickets in a race. That's like being unable to get wet in a swimming pool or some other fantasy-land BS.

Aside from all I've said, I will still 100% get my son involved in the world of Rally Racing Through Traffic, or whatever this "sport" is called. There is literally 0 demand for it, so he can probably be the best within minutes of popping out of the womb.
// //
So I know we were all desperate to find out if Kanye and George would ever work through their differences and be friends again, and now, we can finally sleep easy again knowing that they are FINALLY back on track. It's the bromance of the century<3

The two hit a snag when in 2005, West announced on TV that Bush "doesn't care about black people" and that was why the relief after Hurricane Katrina wasn't cutting it. Very well put. Cut right to the heart of the situation.

Thank God we have visionaries like Mr. West to let us know indisputable facts like a) there were ZERO white people living in New Orleans during Katrina b) the best music video of all time, was, in fact, created by Beyonce Knowles and c) Kanye himself may actually be God if we're going with this video:
Kanye West - Power ---> I mean, I'm convinced.

Bush has a new book out in which he calls Kanye out for calling him a racist, BUT never fear, kids, because in an interview today Bush said that despite the book-bashing, he and West are FAR from fighting. "Kanye West stopped by to see me yesterday," Bush said, "He seems to have changed his tone rather dramatically."

WAIT, WHAT? Kanye stopped by to see you yesterday? Do you guys just hang out casually? What exactly did you two do, break out the Xbox and sit down for a couple bro-bonding hours of Call of Duty? Maybe have a lover's spat over whether it was racist or not that it's called "Black Ops"? Ripping on Obama because he doesn't care about white people? (Or maybe just because he called Kanye a 'Jackass' too) I JUST DON'T KNOW.

This is all a mystery to me, but I'm just glad the dynamic duo has kissed and made up and are back together. I'll leave you with that hopeful message, and another gem of a statement from Bush's interview this morning. "I'm not a hater," said Bush, "I didn't hate Kanye."
Nothing but love here, folks.
// //


Who would've thought Vanilla Ice would turn out to be a successful general contractor. Damn it's been quite a ride for him since Ice Ice Baby. Definitely an upgrade from his time on Surreal Life with Ron Jeremy and Co. Gotta say I think he'll be alright.

But then we get to Coolio. The more I catch Coolio in the limelight these days the more concerned I become. I mean here's a dude who clearly lost his mind in the midst of his once Fantastic Voyage...kidnapping a college kid and teaching him how to whip up a healthy and inexpensive dinner on Cookin' With Coolio? Just a show I pray I never run into. Can you take it as a productive experience or just realize you've encountered former celeb gone senile. Don't feel obligated to watch the video in it's entirety. I cut it off myself around 1:45 in...Can you do that on your own blog?

Vanilla Ice and Coolio. Modern day entertainment allowing two 90's rappers to expand their business ventures. The American Dream at its finest?

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

// //

If you don't think I'm inches away from clicking "Confirm Purchase" on these you're out of your mind. Never before have cuter, more practical slippers been developed.

Just looking at these makes me want to have a hot chocolate and sit in an expensive robe. Who knows, maybe toss on a Rom. Com. and light some Strawberry Shortcake scented candles. I'm also ready to bear the cross of wearing these to any and every event. Dinner? Chewbacca slippers. Flag football game? Best believe I'm dusting dudes with my Chewys on. Sure I may be escorted out of the restaurant or suffer a severe ankle sprain, but who else will be stunting out the doors in embarrassment/being placed in the ambulance in such style.

I'm not 100% sure these things are real. In fact, I'm like 40% sure the website I discovered this image actually gave my computer a virus. That folks will not stop this quest. The quest to acquire the most conveniently comfortable slippers that are also cute as fuck has officially begun.

Important question that is better left to 15 minutes of Google searching: do Strawberry Shortcake scented candles exist?
// //
So yes, it's true, there is a female writing for WMD. And yes, it's also true, my first post was about condoms, smuggling, diamonds, and literal shit (in no particular order.) What can I say? I like to come out swinging.

But let's get to the real issue here: Why did Dub Jeezy hire me to write? Not only am I not a man (check gender symbols above for clarity: I'm the pink one. This means that I have boobs and like to shop) but ALSO I don't work. I'm in grad school, I write random articles, and occasionally have a part time job or two.

So I'll just lay it out for you: I am a Non-Working Woman writing for a Working Man's Diary. So I'm going to say Dub Jeezy just wanted to completely mess with everyone's heads, or has completely lost his mind. Either way, I'm thrilled with the situation, and once I start my weekly update on Gossip Girl, you all will be too. (Kidding.... but, no, seriously. Blaire and Chuck forever <3) As far as WMD goes, the boys... ahem... I mean, men, don't even know what they're in for.

P.S. "G" is not tentative. G is real life. I'm taking the no last name thing to a whole new level: I only need one letter. And if anyone wants to get creative, the possibilities are endless: Homey G, G-Unit, G-String, Fly like a G6, whatever. It's basically the best letter ever already, no additional explanation necessary.

Monday, November 8, 2010

// //

Have you ever played a game in your life where you automatically lose? I'm guessing no, but if you want the experience, try playing any "Call of Duty" game online. Sure it's sour grapes, but come on. It's ridiculous at times. I entered myself into the fray last year and had a terrible time. Awful. I was all bright eyed and bushy tailed like any guy who receives an over-hyped game and as soon as I jumped online with it I instantly exploded. Like started up a multiplayer and my character just blew up. Presumably by a grenade or a rocket, but still. Usually there's that buffer period where people get their "spots" or get acclimated with their surroundings. Nope. This shit was live as soon as the pre-game timer went to 0. No casual running or accidental gunshots. Shit was NOT fun.

I'm the kid that goes into the game just trying to have a decent time. You know, marginally contribute to the team's success, but not really be a star of sorts. Can't even do that. I'm on the screen away from everyone trying to shoot a can off a fence and all of a sudden I get knifed in the throat.

Simply not a positive experience.
// //

The fact that I had a weekend titled "Sober Weekend" is probably a telling sign of the state of my life, but aside, it was a great, excellent, wonderful time. Having not spent an entire Friday and Saturday alcohol free since roughly '04, this was new to me. Never before on a Monday morning have I felt so refreshed/cleansed/hopeful about a day. Hell, I even considered putting up a post during the weekend, but that would have been just off-the-wall psycho crazy. WMD hibernates (drinks) on the weekend, so we can build up disdain and creativity for the week to come.

Let me tell you, it felt like I was on Dr. Drew's sober house. At roughly, 7:45PM of both Friday and Saturday nights my body started doing things on autopilot. Like I basically blacked out and woke up in line at the liquor store with a 30 in my hand. Quitting the weekend cold turkey was no easy task. I had to enlist the help of Netflix, Chinese food, and the lack of negative influence. They all did their part, but peer pressure always wins out. I literally felt like one of those vagrants featured on any VH1 show.

Then people asked me: "Why have a sober weekend?" To be honest, I don't know. It was more of a challenge to myself more than me actually needing it. Like, "can I go through a weekend without touching alcohol?" Ridiculous. Made me realize what is in store for roughly the next 5 years of my life. Just constants of work, bars, debating not going to bars, adult sports leagues, girlfriend, and the slow phasing out video games. Things are looking grim.

But seriously, S-Weekend was awesome. You guys should probably try it sometime.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

// //


Here's a battle I never thought I'd encounter/discuss--the Russian Roulette game versus the God-Jesus robot.

Wow. Don't even know what to say about either of these. Does the Russian Roulette game prepare you just in case you encounter that situation. And even if it does prepare you, is there a way to become good at Russian Roulette? My knowledge was that it was just a roll of the dice between survival and a messy situation. Apparently there are some conversations out in Japan like, "Nah, I'm not fuckin' with that dude, he's absolutely nasty at Russian Roulette." I mean, if it can actually make you better at the game, more power to ya kid. You can never have too much survival knowledge in the realm of luckily surviving a bullet.

Clearly the most concerning (effed up) of these Japan toys is this God-Jesus robot thing. We've all had some sort of robot toy I assume. The thing usually lit up a little bit, made some strange noises, and said something about defending the universe. Nothing wrong with that. Is the God-Jesus robot preaching passages from the Old Testament? I'm trying to protect planet Earth from alien invasion, not trying to hear the word of God during a casual toy sesh. They gave it a cross. Really?! Like, oh, this thing looks ridiculous..cheap composition, beady red eyes, and whoops, just a cross hanging out in his hand. Kind of kicks things up roughly 5 notches. Takes it from a game to a serious, serious event faster than anyone imagines.

I'd rather my children play with a game that prepares you for the tough times that Russian Roulette present than some robot preaching the sermon and freaking everyone out.
// //

So I'm on my way home from the grind, obviously struggling to acquire a seat, and what do you know, there's a dude pushing ME around so he could get space to set up and play his RPG computer game. Dude got it in, trust me.

It was like a military sergeant putting together a gun. The guy had a laptop from 2019, a power cord that somehow connected to the nonexistent outlet on the T, and a "I'm going to crush these orcs" attitude that basically unsettled everyone in the 10 foot radius. I was intimidated. Never before has a dude come in and exuded so much confidence for such a nerdy action. It was like he was Hugh Hefner with some busty blondes on his arm. Instead he was playing what I presume was Final Fantasy to his heart's content on the packed evening commute T. I respect the hell out of this guy. Just comfortable in his own skin.

At my standing angle I was able to watch his every move. The guy never tried to level up and he was lost as shit a majority of the time. If you're going to pull out the laptop and pop in Final Fantasy, you better be impressing me to the level where I won't think you're a nerd. You my friend, did not succeed.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

// //


So video #1 features Wizards rookie PG John Wall before his league debut. Has Anyone In The NBA ever broke it down like this before a game? Dude hadn't even tossed a regular season assist at this point and the crowd's already won over. Hard to imagine what would happen if it were the NBA Finals...Might have to wait til he's out of a Wizards uniform in seven years to see what happens there.

Then we get to the Chicago Bulls '97 Finals introduction. Nothing but smug looks all around to go with a handful of NBA championships. What would Dennis Rodman do in 2010? Sure he had the hair going back in the day but damn...if he were in the NBA now we'd be sitting through a full-out karaoke performance. With most people hating LeBron James and generally creeped out by Shaquille O'Neal it's time to get on board with The John Wall.

Everybodys doing it

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

// //

Yup, this is the exact cartoony dramatization of what happens when it rains and there's a turkey present. The turkey is literally FASCINATED at the fact that water is coming from the sky to the point that it will gape in awe until it's dead.

It wouldn't be true WMD fashion if I didn't find this absolutely hilarious and search feverishly for a Youtube video of this actually happening, but alas, none exist. Probably some snuff film type of thing that will add on to the incriminating shit I have on this computer. Anywho, turkeys are fast becoming the most fascinating animals to me. Each and every day I find out something that moves them one step forward and a couple of steps back. They are eerily fast as shit. Possibly a top ten land-speed animal on this planet. This little drowning factoid however, plummets them off the cool cliff.

Seriously, what could possibly be going on with the turkeys in South America? You know how you go to bed after a big rain storm and expect to see a few worms struggling out on the streets? Imagine being Amazonian and waking up and seeing turkeys strewn throughout your neighborhood. That'd alter your day somehow. Most likely for the worst. You hear people in the office talking about traffic or car trouble--you can trump that with your tale of turkey mass suicide. The boss will probably let you leave at noon upon that news.

On Thanksgiving, before you break that wishbone and say grace, remember that your turkey could have possibly died via accidental drowning suicide during a rain storm. That folks, ain't a baller Thanksgiving.

Monday, November 1, 2010

// //

Pillow Pets...now there's an idea that should have made its way to the market a good 50 years ago. Two essential products molded into one for ages 1-8...a cash cow if you will. Just waiting on that moment where it clicks. Somewhere out there is the owner of Pillow Pets just floating in an assortment of stuffed animals, feathers, checks and cash. God damnit.
// //

May the blessings of the season rest upon your life. I found you here on this site and picked
interest in you. My name is lilian. I wish to be in good relationship with you and may be discover ourselves as real partners for life. Please send your email address in my inbox and not site please With this email adderss (##########@yahoo.com). If you feel interested write me through the contact. so that I will send you my pictures
(Remember the distance or colour does not matter but love matters alot in life). I will be happy to seeing a good responds from you
Thanks from my heart;
Yours in love,

Hmm. It appears we have a situation here. Aside from Lilian the robot wanting to exchange pics with the kid Dub J, it appears that "the distance or colour does not matter but love matters alot in life." Did not know that. That's either complete robot babble or some of the sweetest shit I have ever read. Also didn't know Lilian was the reincarnation of Langston Hughes, but sometimes it takes a garbled email of illiteracy and confusion to really express how you feel.

It took like 785 posts, but I finally got a woman to fall in love with me strictly because of my bonkers, off-the-wall writing. What post was it baby? The one about the drunken possum living in my old basement? Was it that creep Dick Palmer's post about the forbidden fruit? Oh, I bet it was Craw's post on how his style sucks. Either way, this blog is finally starting to pay off. Within a span of two days, we got a chick to write for us and a hopelessly romantic email from an most assured robot. I mean, it's not like I received a prize or something ,but the victories are small and few here.

So I believe it's time for me to pick out two of my favorite lines from this gem:

-May the blessings of the season rest upon your life- Whoa. Lillian is certainly starting this thing off on fire. Her spirit is a turn on. Her word choice and robotness is a turn off

-I wish to be in good relationship with you and may be discover ourselves as real partners for life.-Lillian I'm in no position as a borderline bad internet blogger to deny you right off the bat. If you're as hot as Rosie, we can give it a go.

Wonder what the 2nd email will entail.

// //

^not this crazy. You will be fired immediately if you're this crazy...

I am here to introduce G (name tentative) as the newest, exclusively X chromosome'd writer for WMD. Frankly, this has been long overdue. You guys can only see so many posts about strange unicycle tricks and giant gummy worms in a row without needing a breath of fresh air post from the female perspective.

G decided to come in and pass this little test with flying colors. I half expected to see a post on a fairly easy topic not involving condoms or the swallowing of condoms, but low and behold, I'm knee deep in a condom/diamond post. The girl came in HOT. She figuratively looked me in the eye and said, "pfft, I do what I want" and I can't knock it. Basically dropping the hottest post in weeks and walking off into the sunset like a country-western hero.

Welcome to the squad G (name SO tentative), I hope you know what you just walked into.