Tuesday, May 31, 2011

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The provided clip simply reassures the fact that there's still plenty of fun shit to do when you're old. The normal citizen in front seems to be very informative - spitting knowledge in regards to god knows what. But the only thing people are taking in is how awesome each particular animal noise comes out from my man on the left.

Just makes me that much more excited for the day I can perform this very action. Nobody's questioning the old man...Whether disgruntled or clueless, he proved his point. Some may jump to the conclusion that he's delusional, but I say he knows exactly what he's doing. Something about politics/TV crews/the world in general that doesn't sit right with him. Having a grand ol' time while making a statement the best way he knows how with the coolest shades ever to hit the streets.
// //

^he's not one to brag, so I will.

It'd be an understatement to say that I am honored to know this suave cat right here. The kid saw Memorial Day weekend and proceeded to smash it to pieces. Basically saying, "Yo Dub, sorry about the lack of posts. I was too busy killin' it at every facet of life."

If I told you one man could: make a girl fall in love with him without attachment for three days, burn down several dance circles, play the drums awesomely at two respectable venues in two nights, make two grown heterosexual dudes swoon over ukulele ballads, put up a respectable performance in "horse", win at bowling, crush a good majority of the food at a BBQ without actually cooking any, successfully make other girls intrigued/jealous by his overall actions,buy his mother a heartfelt (but not too heartfelt) birthday card, receive 4th row home-plate tickets to the Memorial Day Red Sox game for no reason, appear on TV throughout said Red Sox game, go out to dinner with his parents and receive praise for being a good son just minutes after saying goodbye to his weekend girl, and watch one of his favorite movies in the middle of a hungover Monday you would think I was crazy. I'm shocked too, but it all happened.

Soak it in. If I strung my last 14 weekends together, I couldn't come up with half of this. For that I'm pissed and really jealous, but I refuse to hate and will instead congratulate.

Craw, this was your weekend. Sadly, next weekend is probably going to be the worst of your life by comparison.

Thursday, May 26, 2011

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EMBED-Sleepy Woman Vs Hot Dog - Watch more free videos

I'm just going to come out and say that I don't know what gender this person is. Looks like a movie villain or something. What I can tell you is that despite not having a clear grasp on whether she pees standing up or sitting down, this thing will do anything for a hot dog. That definitely includes eating it off the subway floor. Hell, I'm pretty sure AIDS wouldn't touch the floor of a subway.

We've all been there dudechick. Multiple times at the sub-shop near my work I've ordered a large knowing damn well I wouldn't put a dent into it. 3/4th of the way through I'm halfway passing out too. Granted, I'm not a vagrant, but that doesn't say too much about me.

Basically it comes down to what hotdog this is. I wouldn't attempt picking it up if it wasn't Nathans, Oscar Meyer, or Ballpark. Any better or worse than those, you let the rats (other homeless) take care of it.

Good luck with your gender, bro-lady.
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I'm thinking what you're thinking. What the fuck is the deal with the BBQ Chicken one? Yeah, I see you hiding back there. The execs over there really jumped outside the box on that one. Baby steps Candwich, baby steps. I get that you're making disgusting PB&J combos in a plastic container, but don't mess with the poultry. Has to be a 100% rate of salmonella in this right? Or it's that "chicken" McDonalds used before they started using "all white-meat chicken." Either way you're dead.

Would you choose a cyanide pill or eat (drink?) three containers of the BBQ candwich? I really can't decide. On the one hand, you know cyanide will wrap things up and kill you in a few minutes. Relatively painless. On the other hand, the BBQ chicken candwich looks like it would rip you to shreds from the inside out. You'll probably survive, but at what cost? No bathroom deserves that wrath.

There's no right answer.

PS. Easy Craw

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

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What am I trying to depict here? Simple. Just a version of me in the office looking out at the azure from my new window, standing above the duel monitors I just snatched up to go along with it. Moving up in the working world in regards to the little things. The good life, if you will.

First off I'll confess the view isn't quite as spectacular as the only example I've provided you here. It actually looks onto the state highway and a small auto repair shop...but who's keeping tabs.

I know I sound like a nerd here - but duel monitors at work is one of the more baller things out there. This is key to getting people in other departments to believe I'm doing a shitload of work. It's demanding respect. I need two god damn screens to fit all my tasks in what's good? Power trips galore. New girls will be walking into the office thinking I'm one of the managers or some shit. A young hot shot. Might have a chance with them until they eventually see my true colors - just another entry level dude who somehow pulled down a sick desk and two screens. But until then...

// //

I want to take this poor little guy out to lunch and hear his problems. One of those situations where you don't say a word and just listen.

Like we've all been sad before. Things happen in our lives and you feel like shit for awhile. Believe me, I know. But pictures like this really put things in perspective for me. This is a kiwi in dire need of something. If he had any type of pose-able thumbs, I guarantee he tries to off himself. Donate this motherfucker to Working Man's Diary Corp. We will either gives this dude the best life he could possibly have with all the love in the world, or he dies within 3 days having a god damn blast. Either way it's got to be better than whatever he's going through now.

Mascot me one time!
// //

I'd grade myself an F- in terms of female comprehension. Generally, I have no fucking clue what's going on with them and probably never will. Just pissin' chicks off all the time by accident. With that said, I try to tread lightly around the office since, you know, I don't want to get fired.

Today was a little light so I decided to spice things up a bit. I hopped into a gender-changing time machine and became Nancy Drew circa 1997. Stay with me here. There's this girl in my office who recently got married. She's pretty cute and we all know that the first 6-months of marriage are full of, "yes honey"s and sex. So today she's taking a ton of trips to the bathroom meaning she's either sick or pregnant. Keep in mind, F- comprehension. My thought process is if she's sick, why doesn't she go home? She's not the "hardest" worker, so obviously something is afoot. I'm not trying to get hoodwinked/bamboozled on a god damn Wednesday--I'm like a hawk on Wednesdays. Not going to sneak things past me possibly cute, recently married coworker.

So the dilemma is, do I just start a RISKY rumor throughout the office that she's pregnant. I literally see no positive in doing it, but I want to so bad. The Hardy Boys definitely wouldn't try it, but this is definitely the type of shit Nancy would get caught up in.

Like a 4% chance I ever get married.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

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I base my entire idea of space off of "Ren and Stimpy." I saw one mind-blowing episode way back when and it basically fucked me up to this day. Basically they both got sucked into a black-hole and landed in some alternate reality. Shit was messed up. Anyway, it got me thinking. Is there another Dub J (Jub D?) out there feverishly blogging away to a moderate group of readers? If so, is he handsome as fuck?

Of course he's handsome. Probably not by our standards, but in whatever fake Earth he's dominating, ladies are throwing up/passing out in his presence. Actually, the alternate universe is supposed to be the opposite (the bizarro) version of you. So this handsome figment of my imagination probably doesn't exist and is just a product of my ridiculous God complex. Bizarro me is undoubtedly a smallish white kid with not an ounce of humor, poor athleticism, and like 2 friends. Kid must suck at video games, dance circles, ironing, creating funny blogs, and sadly, has to be ugly as fuck. Poor guy.

I've never gone through so many weird thoughts in a blog post. I have GOT to stop watching the National Geographic Channel. They basically just come up with crazy ideas, attach them to a Nerf ball and see what stick to the wall over there.
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equals this?

This is easily the most offensive name of all time right? That's like calling a bunch of black people living together "The Watermelon Miscreants." It would literally be the most racist thing that ever happened. Like worse than slavery. That being said, I'm completely on board with this and find it absolutely hilarious. It sounds like a show that should be on Cartoon Network or something. Just a bunch of asshole kids solving crimes using only macaroni. Terrible show.

In all seriousness, Japan has been through some tough stuff over the last few months. They are allowed a couple questionable slip ups. Hell, I bet "The Macaroni Rascals" was like Plan E for MTV if a bunch of other shows didn't work out.

Thanks MD

Monday, May 23, 2011

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Personally I'm a little scared. I've seen douchebags and I know they are completely capable of utilizing this in the douchiest way possible. I can see it now. People just touching their hands like they're giving someone directions for the sole purpose of using "new technology." It's like when people bought Ipads without having a clue what they actually did, but with an additional pinch of asshole.

The concept is just absurd to me. Are people really too busy to dig in their pocket to grab their phone and send a text message? Timeout, wait..are people sending invisible texts with the imaginary phone? I need to see one of these texts. Can't be anything more than garbled jibber-jabber right?

--"Hey, what are you up to tonight?"

--"QD!@$5 %ADZZP"

And that is how you ruin a friendship/potential romance. Actually, you were probably screwed from the get go because you were douchey enough to invest in an imaginary phone. That hypothetical girl was undoubtedly some hypothetical skank that wanted in on your fake technological lifestyle. I know the rapture didn't happen, but if these things start circulating, I kind of wish it did.
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The news reports weren't really giving me anything today. Saw a story about the entire police force in England getting called to deal with a stuffed animal on a golf course. I won't even comment on that because that's just England being England. Then I saw this story about a super baby that fell down 8 flights of stairs and wasn't fazed. A light bulb obviously went on my head telling me I must scrap up some funds together and buy this baby immediately.

Sure you can take the easy route and be like, "I'm definitely trying to buy a LeBron James baby or a Usain Bolt offspring", but I'm thinking outside the box here. Just bypassing the athlete route and going straight for the super-hero. Seriously, my cat fell off the fridge once and it was rattled for like 2 weeks. This baby fell through an ENTIRE hi-rise apartment complex. Kid probably broke some infrastructure--cracking tiles and shit. You best believe I will be Youtube'in the shit out of all his efforts. "Father tosses baby off shit", "Baby breaks out of cinderblock cage to get his food--father videotapes", "Manny Pacquiao claims he sees God after getting smacked by this baby." The possibilities are literally endless.

Endless until he inevitably kills me in the midst of a one-double-cheeseburger-left-on-the-table scenario.
// //

Justin Timberlake killin' it once again on the season finale of Saturday Night Live. Everyone's already covered the new jam with Andy Samburg (which was equally as phenomenal) but this opening monologue just says it all...
J-Timbs simply failing to realize his pure immortality in the music industry.

This SNL performance brought me back to when he dominated the 2008 ESPY Awards. He's gotta be the best host in the game right now. But back to the elephant in the room in regards to the Billboard charts - Sexy Back was out in 2006 man. Social Network was cool but the rom-com run needs to end by next year at the very latest. America deserves another JT album. Let's get it done.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

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I've been thinking all day about how weird Friday night drinking is going to be with all this talk of the Rapture on Saturday. Worst case scenario being: dudes taking full glasses of moonshine to the face and girls making out with jukeboxes. It's going to be straight anarchy.

I obviously am not freaking out about this (eh..), but I'm just curious as to what's REALLY good with people quitting their jobs and buying bench ads about this stuff. That shit's on me. I definitely should have gotten to these people first and had WMD piggyback their strange needs for advertisement dollars. Craw needs some new sunglasses and I need to pay private investigators to find out where G is. It all wins out for both parties involved.

But seriously, I'm scared I will be crushing the strongest of strong alcohol tomorrow in a wild fit of depression. Like the "the world's going to end, might as well creep a few chicks out" lifestyle will be in full effect tomorrow.

Seriously, if this is my last will and testament, I would like to know..where the fuck is G?!

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

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St. Louis is the fucking best. First, they gave us the Midwest Swing and now they're giving away free food on the regular. Cut the malarkey about "naming your own price" because you and I both know you'll probably pay full price the first day, but pay zero dollars every time thereafter.

First off, I rarely pop into Panera Bread as is because I'm not cool/uncool enough to be in there. I need at least one Macbook Pro and two Ipads to make the wheels go'round in there. Plus everyone is wearing glasses and I don't even know if that's baller, but it puts me in a weird spot. Plus I'm always wary of a place that serves apples as sides. But free apples are another god damn story. I'll crush just about any food if it's given to me for the price of none, excluding Tootsie Rolls of course--shit's impossibly gross. Plus I think Tootsie Rolls are currency in like 4th world countries. You can't eat coins. Ok, digression's over. I feel like this Panera is making Lemonade Stand-type dollars. Finishing out the week with a total of $27.

How pissed are the cashiers? They have to literally wow the customer with a magic show to make more than $0.50 on a purchase. Me personally, I'm going to need you to recite "Take Me There" verbatim from the "Rugrats Movie" soundtrack. If you can do that, I'll pay the "suggested" price for my soup-sandwich combo.

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As we wait on this year's new version of the Shake Weight I wanted to take a moment and reflect on how brilliant the concept of The Ab Tronic was when it first came on the scene. I don't even know they're still selling these now but back then it was gold. The one workout device that could allow you to get a workout in while taking part in your daily routine of TV/eating whatever the fuck you want.

I'll never forget the day in seventh grade when I went to my buddy's house and he had the game on with a hefty plate of nachos by his side per usual. When I turned the corner to take a seat I noticed the device hooked to his gut as he gave me the biggest shit eating grin I'd ever seen.

He starts to dive into his whole master plan, saying "dude as long as this thing pumps electricity in my abs I can eat anything...You should get one it's only like three payments of $19.99." Two weeks and 15 pounds later - Ab Tronic's out the window. Despite the outcome it was truly a valiant effort on his part. Spare me the "maybe he should've just ate right and went to the gym" spiel.  Come on. Just not a realistic plan. It's all about finding ways to get results while continuing to be lazy. That said, hoping the 2011 version of Hydroxy-shake-tronic-flex could actually show and prove.
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I'm sorry, but this shouldn't even be a question. Because I watch the NBA playoffs every night I bear witness to the worst commercials television has to offer. It was a real tough choice, but this commercial is exactly like the bizarro version of Michael Jordan--it's been so bad for so long. Definitely was hatin' on this shit when I was still in college.

The decision came down to these rats and any of those T-Mobile commercials, but that random hot chick BARELY redeems their quality. Then you got the Hanes commercials that have MJ rocking the Hitler 'stache, which is just uncomfortable. We are not in the Golden Age of commercials and that's for damn sure. I haven't laughed at a beer commercial since the Budweiser frogs. What was that, like 1997?

This commercial set hamsters back decades.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

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Baby Craw back in the day...T-Rex arms well rested on my already established pop belly. Double chin dangling to put just enough pressure on the top button to make the flavorful Hawaiian shirt rather unsettling. If only I knew the repercussions of this very photo as my parents set me up to take it...

Today at work I received a message from my co-worker on our company's trusted messaging program (Ghat) that read "yo homie...peep my profile pic." My god. Not only did the kid dive into the depths of my facebook profile to find this...he also cropped and positioned the picture in front of this pale background to match the oranges on my shirt (jesus man, tough day at the office?). Thus, baby Craw on display through technology for the entire office to see.

Some would think this could've played well for me. All the girls around maybe telling me how cute I was back then. Instead came a tornado of jokes such as - "Huh, see you had more hair on your head back then." "What happend to your style?" "Haha wow you look exactly the same (worst one of all)." Etcetera, etcetera, etc-et-er-a.

Eat your heart out readers. A pure representation of me rocking the most eccentric shirt I've ever owned.
// //

Scratch that, I'm pretty sure nerds are bashing this shit too. I'm also pretty sure we've reached the next level in the long list of "people everyone hates." Problem is, I don't even know how to classify whatever these people are. Can't call them nerds because that'd be an insult to all the dudes out there solving equations. I'm definitely scared to use the term "weird" because there's like a 90% chance I'm a weird dude. Basically, I'm in a judgment bind.

Usually judgment should just roll off the tongue. You should see a person that you're better than and be able to make fun of them within a short time span. I'm pretty sure that's the American way. These people sort of leave me in a state of shock though. Like if I was crossing the street to grab a Big Gulp and a unfortunate hot dog from 7-Eleven and saw this, my brain probably wouldn't have registered it and I would have proceeded on my way. Kind of like the "Men In Black" mind eraser, but in creepy people form.

I don't know. I'm just going to pretend this didn't happen. Treat these assholes like the Easter Bunny or some shit.
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"The inches we need are EVERYWHERE around us"
-Any Given Sunday

Every reach this god damn sloth made, I was almost moved to tears. That was probably the most inspirational thing I've ever seen. Dude clearly didn't want help after he almost got run over by the biker. Kind of reminded me of one of those old dudes that pridefully refuses help at the grocery store. This sloth was going to cross this street or die trying. Actually there was a zillion percent chance he was dying--not an urgent bone in their poorly constructed body. Though they are the least efficient in the animal kingdom, they make up for it with unreasonable expectations. Got to respect this slow motherfucker.

Monday, May 16, 2011

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Are Peter Pan shoes REALLY what's hot in the streets right now? I was able to deal with Crocs. I turned a blind eye to skinny jeans. This is where I have to draw the line though.

This is the real sign of the apocalypse--not random birds dying in Arkansas or various natural disasters. Again, I'm probably the only one legitimately worried about this and everyone probably thinks I'm crazy. Main issue being: they originated in Mexico. Not to knock Mexico, but they straight up have no rules. I'm not even trying to joke. I can kill a previously purchased prostitute,snort cocaine off her dead body WITH a police officer and I can continue on my way to the hotel for Bloody Marys in the morning. They also had Swine Flu and that fucked up like 172 people. Can't trust this.

The moment I see someone in the states rocking these, you best believe I'm going rogue and Jack Bauer-ing my way to Mexico and destroying the factory from the ground up.
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You ever have that person you just refuse to friend based solely on principle? We all do. For girls, it was that guy you kind of hit it off with at the bar that will undoubtedly friend you at 2:39am. For guys, it's guaranteed another dude. Guys have the hardest time legitimately making friends with one another. The process brings about some of the strangest interactions when two guys share interests. When I was younger, if you crushed video games and effed with the Power Rangers, we were good to go. As I got older, if you liked sports (real sports) we were like 98% there. And now, if you drink a couple beers, I will gladly be that black friend you can tell your other friends that you have. Sad part is, I don't even know if my standards have dropped or increased.

In the Facebook era though, you will not see many guys making the effort to friend another dude. It's pride. Like, what will I gain from befriending you on Facebook? Are you offering a 400K job? Do you work at the Playboy mansion, meaning that your pics are awesome? These are becoming the criteria to get a friend request out of me if you're a dude. And if I friended you within the past 2 years, I'm probably using you or going to use you at some point. It's not my fault, it's what Facebook intended of me.

Basically everything boils down to Chat Roulette. That shit showed where social media was heading. A bunch of dudes just trying to get girls to flash them through the internet. It means that there's no need to friend that co-worker dude that sits directly next to you that you drink with every Thursday. It means that kid you've played basketball with for the last few years ain't getting one either.

But you know that intern that you haven't spoken to yet, and probably never will? She'll get the combo-platter, aka the friend request, personal message, and poke.

Friday, May 13, 2011

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So blogger's back and I'm tickled with emotion. First weird picture I saw on the internet was an automatic post. It's like a dog that really has to pee. You open the door and it starts pissing itself all over the place. No real control. That's kind of where this post is going. Nothing but a bear in the empty cubicle that's probably not in a real office. No real flash here, just a couple guys with an abundance of resources that decided to play and elaborate prank that probably has PETA up in arms.

Needless to say, postgrad life sucks and I'd be completely down to test the waters in this bear-cubicle scenario. Who knows, maybe me and the bear become decent friends and I can command him to do my bidding throughout the office. Have it get me coffee and creep on the intern and shit.

Just kidding, he'll probably wreck me in the most gruesome manner imaginable.

Thursday, May 12, 2011

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Jesus, what was that guys? Left the dude standing there high in dry like he was 3 feet short. He never experienced an ounce of joy from what was easily the most athletic feat of his life.

The chick sounds like she threw up in her mouth because it took her like 30 seconds to explain what happened. "OMG you actually hit that shot. Let's immediately have sex" should suffice lady. Don't let the guy stand there looking like he got ditched at prom.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

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Literally 8 of my 8 hours of work is spent dabbling in Words With Friends. I'm not playing the entire time..just dabbling. Peeking at it every half hour or so, constructing my next move, and leading the league in "Sorry, that is not an acceptable word"s. Just a drastic part of my day. And personally, I'm not exactly sure how I feel about these new words.

I'll highlight two of these new words. 1) "Thang"--blatant ebonics. I'm not even mad, but I'm just calling a spade a spade. I only see that word in relation to something sassy or something barbecue--both exclusively black thing. 2) "Grrl"--not a vowel present. A glaring sign of where our society is heading. A place where sounds and not words reign supreme.

I'm not trying to see 12 year olds dominating the scene with triple word score "LMFAO"s and "ZZXJV"s out here.
// //

There's not many bright spots in my Dilbert-like lifestyle. Wake up, drinklessly blackout for 4 hours, make a rash lunch decision, blackout again, and go home. It's like a poorly run machine from 9-5. Few variables can really affect the day, lunch being an exception.

I've watched my fare share of television sitcoms and they all have that spot. You know what spot I'm talking about. That place where all the main characters assemble to shoot the shit is usually a diner where every waiter/waitress knows there name. I know it's lame, but I wanted that shit forever like a Drake song. A "Cheers" for Dub J/a place to walk in and have everybody literally thrilled to see me. I think I found it. Staring down the barrel of a quarter-life crisis, I fucking needed this. I needed the dude in the sub line to know I wanted the Italian sub with all the fixings, but with no god damn pickles. I needed the slight recognition that undoubtedly occurred because I'm black. As depressing as it sounds, random sub guy made me feel alive. It's cold, it's May, and I think my immune system took a hit because I have god damn allergies all of a sudden after not having them for 23 years.

It's the small victories these days.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

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Lady Gaga in a press release: "I want to celebrate and share 'Born This Way' with my little monsters in a special way that's never been done before. Zynga has created a magical place in 'FarmVille' where my fans can come play, and be the first to listen to the album."

So is it just me or is the apocalypse now officially upon us? We have reached a day where exclusive tracks are hidden in the technology fields of FarmVille. God damnit. I can't imagine anyone wanting to raise enough crops to reach access to the plots of Gaga one week before her album drops. What really gets to me is there are in fact millions of 'little monsters' set to log in and allow this cash cow of a partnership actually work.

Guess this explains her showing up to the Grammys as an egg ready to hatch. No she wasn't trying to make any kind of obscure statement per usual...just completely obsessed with building farms on facebook.
// //

I'm not going to come out here and knock Carmelo for his choice of pet. We all get a little weird sometimes and act on impulses. Personally I would have went with a penguin, but what do I know about obscure pets that are only exclusive to certain climates.

Even though I'm questioning the emotions of this camel, I have to say that this thing is clearly smiling. No doubt about it. Cheesing like a mofo. But let us not forget, this was at the moment of purchase. Both Camel and 'Melo are ecstatic about the prospects of life together. If we fast-forward 6-months you will see the crankiest/dead camel in the game. No way a positive scenario can come of living in NYC where there is no such thing as a backyard. Plus dude is a NBA player and rich as fuck, which means he's going on vacation. Not many friends are going to take up a camel for the week you're in Cabo.

Ideally, you'd like a Joe Camel type of camel, but looks like you bit off more than you can chew 'Melo. Baby steps, man.

Monday, May 9, 2011

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Stay with me here, because on paper this shit seems like gold. I've had many an interaction with the homeless and I have to say that I rarely understand them. Not to knock the homeless (but to obviously knock the homeless), they're not the strongest linguists out there--especially when they're high on crack/cocaine/angel dust/PCP/Ashy Larry.

So I was watching the "Celebrity Apprentice" last night and one of the characters (Marlee Matlin) is deaf and has this bomb-ass interpreter. Dude is so on point that it's stupid. He's reciting like 4 conversations, while at the same time explaining what Marlee's signing. Incredible. What's stopping this dude from parlaying this career into some pro bono bum interpretation? Could have used his ass yesterday when this vagrant came onto my T spitting gibberish about the KKK and his social security check. Definitely didn't receive the message he was sending. Insert interpreter: "I just want to wish all of you and yours a happy mother's day." Instead of prompting the bus driver to interrogate him about crack possession and escorting him off the bus he could have instilled Mother's Day cheer for an entire T.

URL: www.bumtranslation.com is not taken yet. I'm just sayin'...
// //

Granted that's a helluva deal, but when Mom finishes licking her fingers and wiping her hands with a WetNap, she is leaving you with the most defined handprint on your cheek. A smack heard round the world. If she doesn't follow up with some type of disowning document, than I just don't know anymore. Clearly the obvious Mother's day play is flowers and the even more obvious play is a nice card--play 5999 out of 6000 is Hooters. 6000 being getting them not one, but two Wafflemakers in a 3 year span. Sorry Mom.

We know you like boobs man, but can you just tone it down for one brunch? Maybe grab a couple omelets, maybe a Mimosa. Leave the wings for another night bro.

Friday, May 6, 2011

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Pardon the gross picture of these bug dudes, but I feel I'd be doing a disservice to you guys if I let you get cicada'd. If one of these things flies into my face, shit may just go black. I'll be in a state that's neither alive or dead. A peanut shell without a peanut in it.

These assholes were apparently living underground for 13 years because they age..like humans? Not exactly positive on the details, but that doesn't sound good for us when they decide to come out. You realize how many evil, twisted plots you can develop in 13 years? So many. These diabolical bastards are going to crush the scene like sorority sluts at computer camp. Ruining crops, infrastructure, and lives--that's what cicadas do. The only thing in our favor is the fact that these cicadas still think it's 1998. They're going to be trying to log-on to AOL and baffled by the idea of cellphones. It's literally our only hope. Got to Twitter the shit out of these born-to-annoy bastards.

But seriously, if one of these things flies in my face, God help us all.

Thursday, May 5, 2011

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I'm legit on my death bed from this hangnail that I "handled" this morning. I use the term "handled" loosely because it took like 45 minutes and I discretely cried at least 4 times.

The moment it came out of my finger my life flashed before my eyes in the flashback sequences they have in those witty TV sitcoms on network TV. Shit was absolutely devastating. Literally almost went into the lobby and called my mom. God knows how that conversation would have turned out. She told me to buck up during hangnail crises when I was 5, so she probably would have drove down and publicly assaulted me if I called her about it at age 23. The problem is, I can't see myself getting over this. I can see my kids consoling me and kissing boo-boos for me until I'm on my deathbed (which will undoubtedly be because of PTSD related to hangnail problems).

There's no blood, or bruises for that matter. Just phantom pain. That same shit you get when you lose a limb, except it was small piece of skin on my pinky finger. Literally the wrath of God applied to 1/5th of my hand.
// //
SportsNation Poll: Will the Boston Celtics win over the Miami Heat down 2-0?

God damnit Vermont. Where you at? I'll take Alaska as a part of New England due to their 4-of-7 votes in favor of the Celtics. Boston being down 2-0 to Miami has just put a strain on my body both physically and mentally. This is what I do at work...view any poll or comment section to confirm that everyone else has written off the 2010 Eastern Conference champs while feeling a major shortage in breath and chest pains.

This majority red map will tell you one of two things. 1 - People in the New England area have completely lost their grip on reality. 2 - Alaska knows something the rest of us don't. I'm gonna go with option 2. The most knowledgeable sports analysts could very well reside in Alaska (presumably 4 of them). I immediately drew a parallel from this poll to the game when Rajon Rondo tried to get in Miami's huddle. So Rondo is Alaska. Celtics win. Doesn't make sense? Your loss.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

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I'm not trying to hate on this guy, but I didn't really get jazzed up by this performance. Granted it's definitely cool, but I'm a little skeptical of the soccer and basketball combination. Two sports that don't really mix well.

Just a craft I'll never master. Old white dudes have this market/skill-set wrapped up. Pete Maravich and Steve Nash..I can't see Dub Jeezy making that list.
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What are you reading bro? Because I'm pretty sure it's not even relevant to what I'm fucking searching for. You've all seen this guy on your work computer. Giving you that trusting little smile like he knows what he's doing. Dude is the most unreliable dog I've ever seen. Just sits there, piddles around, reads books with blank pages, and collects his paycheck.

That's like me going to work, pretending to open an excel spreadsheet, and just staring at it for like 7 hours. Wait? I do that literally every day. This is like that scene in Rocky 4 where he says, "If I's can change then you's can change", but instead of ending the Cold War, I'm wrapping up a fictional blog post fight with the search dog on Windows XP. They go hand in hand really.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

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Seriously, what the fuck was that? Lock any six year old in a room for a month with a 20 pack of beer pong solo-cups and I guarantee they will kick the shit out of this kid first try.

Just another sport for the non-athlete. It's like Yo-Yo'ing all over again. Everyone was pretty solid at Yo-Yos, but there was always that one asshole who was walking the dog all throughout science class trying to impress Suzie in the front. Newflash kid, you're rolling some plastic attached to a string on the ground. Score some touchdowns, hit a game-winning shot, maybe execute a legal tennis serve, something.

Where's this "phenom" going to be in 10 years? Dateless to his high school prom, because cup-stacking does NOT sell tickets or get the fame.
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The coming of spring means skirts, tank-tops, booty shorts, and those low-cut v-necks girls dare to wear. Spring also brings a stupid amount of allergies and disgusting couples trying to make out in line at fucking Wendys.

Yes, that last thing happened. There were 7 people in line, me being the seventh, and the 5th and 6th were the Honeymooners. First off, it's Wendy's. No one's especially proud to be there, let alone turned on. I don't even think there's a scenario where it's appropriate to take a girl to Wendy's. Shit was looked down upon in middle school. That didn't stop these two because they didn't mind me being in the front row of their borderline sexfest. I had to pull the fake sneeze/cough combination to slow down the dude's bunt to first. Playing through mental scarring, I still managed to dominate that #6 Spicy Chicken combo.

I think I have to draw an attractiveness line too. If the couple is decent looking they're allotted an additional 30 seconds of whatever they're doing. It's like those Checkpoints in "Cruis'n USA", but way more superficial. Once that time runs out though, you as a bystander have to employ some tricks. You can go with the tried and true drive-by "AHEM!" right next to them, but their fornication fortress is probably a little stronger than that. The best approach I've seen is the concerned and disappointed glare. If executed properly for a period of 3 minutes, the antics will stop. Only: new fathers who are pissed they have a daughter, really old dudes who are riddled with dementia, and ugly feminist chicks can pull this off. They're the Batmen to our city's making out and ass gripping Jokers.

I feel like that kid that got bullied so bad he had to transfer schools--if "bullying" meant witnessing gross PDA and "transfer schools" meant find another Wendys.

Monday, May 2, 2011

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-I can definitely relate to this. There's been plenty of times when I'm 50% tired. Top half naps, bottom half keeps drinking and dominating dance circles.

-This fucking guy. Competing with a moldy potato for my affection. Though a clear mismatch, I respect your efforts.

-Believe me brother, if I could do it, I'd do it too. We may not be talking about the same thing?

-Dude definitely got slugged in the face and left under the kitchen table. As dishonorable a defeat as that Asian guy that got knocked out by a high schooler during pick-up basketball today. What?

-Jokes aside, this cat may legitimately be dead.
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As the card-carrying black member of WMD, I'm going to take the liberty to dive into this one. I'm either an idiot who has missed out on the clearly obvious "yes" answer to the question or I'm the only one brave enough to learn the truth.

First off, Uncle Ben and Aunt Jemima are artifacts of slavery and racism that just sort of slipped through the cracks. People are so down with syrup and rice pilaf that they completely overlook that there is a glaring issue with these characters. Hispanic people dealt with it too with the Taco Bell dog. Spitting "yo quiero Taco Bell" without a care in the world. And obviously the Monopoly guy was Jewish--that's just a given. Racial mascots, dare I say, kind of make the world go round.

But yeah, I know I didn't attempt to answer the question because I'm just going to go with the obvious yes like I should have from the get go. It's too blatantly obvious. A woman that saw a calling in molasses and pancakes while a man formed a powerful connection with starches and wheat. Beautiful and erotic at the same time. Not really erotic, but this couple definitely made bank which is always sexy. Crushing shit like the Oprah and Jay-Z of their industries.

Plus we all know who was really running things...cough..the plantation owner..cough...
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Gotta love the ongoing We Got Bin Laden celebrations. It was remarkable to see the end of the Phillies game when fans stopped in their tracks amidst the 1-1 contest in the 9th inning to chant U.S.A. and look up the news on their respective blackberry's.

How much did the stars align for this dude 10 beers deep in the U.S.A. jersey? He's making news highlights on every channel flashing the letters, representing the common people of America in a fantastic light. Woke up this morning to see him front and center on ESPN.com. Sharing the spotlight alongside Obama in the week he defeated Trump with a birth certificate while tracking down public enemy #1 to really solidify the W.