Thursday, March 29, 2012

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Looking at this picture for two seconds made me feel bad about my life, my socioeconomic status, my hygiene, this blog, and my jump-shot all at the same time.

The meanest mean mug of all time.
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How bad do you think and eHarmony feel about this? Their entire existence, success, and brand was made into mockery by one website in one day. Here's how I imagine the inner-monologue of a new user goes:

Step 1: Get on the site and upload two pictures.
Only two pics? Ugh, but I look SO good in way more than two pictures. This will take hours to decide.

(Two and a half hours elapse)

Step 2: Rate the pictures you upload

^Stone-cold 10.

^even 10'er than the last

Step 3: Using the number you rated yourself with, find people of similar attractiveness.

-Because I'm realistic and know I'm a 10, I can just filter out everyone 9 and below. If I'm on a dating site, first order of business is eliminating the uggos, second is finding hot chicks to date me, third is making sure the pictures I uploaded are Instagrammed like a motherfucker. #NOFILTER

Step 4: Date people that have the same attractiveness as you without knowing their personality.

-Wait, this 10 doesn't look like a 10 at all. She just told me that I don't look like my picture either. This chick must be outside of her mind because I look fantastic. This cardigan sweater, half-scarf, skinny-jean, Crocs combo is burning retinas. Can't waste this outfit on a profile picture. Actually, I should definitely make this my profile picture. I completely don't get why this girl doesn't want to take a picture of me right now, I thought we established that she's ugly and I'm awesome looking. Oh well, there's got to be a mirror around somewhere.

Ipso facto, we're fucked America.
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It goes without saying that 500 million dollars is stupid money. Way too much to drop on one "normal" person without their lives being ruined in the long run. In the event that I don't destroy all genuine relationships, develop a nasty drug problem, or get murdered, here is what I'd buy with the money:

1) Start things with a purple giraffe just to throw everyone off.

2) Buy my parents shit, blah, blah, blah.

3) Buy my extended family shit, blah, blah, blah.

4) Master P's gold ceiling from MTV Cribs in 2002.

5) Student loans.

6) Buy a minority stake in the New York Jets, then inevitably kill myself.

7) Find some sort of healthcare for my purple giraffe

8) Buy a house that can fit Master P's gold ceiling

9) Buy Master P's old house

10) Buy three Chevy Volts

11) Buy a Hummer and run over all the previously purchased Chevy Volts

12) Homeowners insurance

13) Convince Ross to stop rapping and just hang out with me and say comedic shit.

14) Mad kittens

15) Mad(der) double cheeseburgers

16) Dr. Sanjay Gupta, Giada de Laurentiis, and Michael Jordan on motivational audiobooks that I paid him to make.

17) Purchase the Sioux Falls Skyforce NBA D-League Franchise and treat it exactly like the movie "Semi-Pro"

18) All the remaining Sega Dreamcasts

19) I'd literally just follow Adriana Lima around all day

20) Bail money after the meth, heroine, coke, acid, crack, prostitute, binge I'm going to go on.

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

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^so apparently this thing KILLS it at walking and dodging people. Not really sure why it was created, but nothing good can come of it. Sure, it may pop up in a LMFAO video or two, but what happens when it develops an agenda? What happens when it decides that a life of dodging people and appearing in terrible music videos isn't enough? It won't be good. You ever see one of those repressed dancing kids that always wanted to play sports, but his parents wouldn't let him? Multiply that by robot and you have a god damn killing machine. I can picture millions of these things just moonwalk-killing roves of people in Japan by the end of this decade. Really Honda, a fucking robot?

^it's all fun and games until someone accidentally has sex with this robot. There's ugly, fat, surprise transsexual, and robot in the hierarchy of things you do NOT want to wake up next to in the morning. In a robot-effer's defense, I have to say, this is probably the Mickey Free of Humanoid-Robot chicks. But now it's time for the real question: Why? Why did we need a robot that looks like a young Asian woman? I know people get lonely out there, but damn, hop on Eharmony or write poetry. Don't pressure the market into creating a life-like robot that has robot strength and a robot's lack of feelings because you've more or less married World of Warcraft.

Can't decide whether I want to die by the hand of the dancing rotund robot or this fine ass humanoid chick. Good problems I guess.
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God dammit. It looks like America's worst public transportation system somehow found a way to make itself even more awful.

For those of you that don't live here, the MBTA is Boston's transit system and it fucking sucks. 50 year old trolleys driven by derelicts pretty much sums up the entire operation. With that said, they are woefully underfunded and routinely try to find ways to overcharge for their embarrassing service. This time, instead of selling terrible t-shirts and flip-flops they just took the liberty to raise prices by $0.30. What followed was the worst case of "two wrongs don't make a right" of all time.

The unemployed, bitchy, and entitled assholes of Boston emerged from the depths, stopped at iParty for an hour, and caused absolute chaos in the city. Jogging around with tissue-paper capes and crudely cut masks on thinking that they were inciting change, when in reality they were just a bunch of unemployed, bitchy, and entitled assholes making my morning commute even more difficult than it normally is. Someone should tell them that I'm not going to read any of their signs when they're dressed like the Beetleborgs.

Shout out to me for the Beetleborgs reference.

*Dude in the orange needs to be put down STAT.

Monday, March 26, 2012

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After all these long, difficult years, it is finally cool to work in the ass-drawing business.

I've been waiting for the proper motivation to hop off the typical workday Microsoft Office lifestyle and dive into my true passion (hint: it's not blogging). It's asses. This is me extending my hand to join you and your ridiculous name in creating some of the most realistically flattering ass depictions of all time. While I have almost zero drawing talent, my eye for a quality rump is second to none. I'm pretty sure that I've pulled muscles in an attempt to catch a glimpse of a great butt.

For the moment, all I truly need is a Butt Sketch poster..and like 5 large Butt Sketch t-shirts. After that we can begin to discuss getting me into this industry. My one fear is the undoubtedly creepy stuff that has to be on my resume. I'm confident that I'm qualified, but if I have to take a certification exam, I'll go the extra lengths. May even retake high school drawing just to ensure my pimp hand is strong.

All in all, I just want my LinkedIn profile to say I'm a "Butt Sketcher."

^can't knock it. Krandel draws some defined butts.
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Reasons I love this story:

1) This beard is realer than actual reality.

2) I honestly can't tell if this guy is the stabber or the stabbee

3) The TV volume is probably the most delicate feature in a male-to-male relationship and this stabbing is completely justifiable.

I'm currently sitting in a room with four dudes and exactly zero of us know where the remote is. Every other commercial the volume is either way too loud or completely mute. Makes no sense. Tensions are at an all-time high and someone very well might get stabbed real soon. Granted, we're not elderly and don't have awesome beards, but we still have that irrational guy anger that may cause one of us to put a fork into another's shoulder. Nothing worse than having audible issues.

I've gone left and right on this beard. For awhile I thought it was vomit disgusting, then I thought there was a very real possibility that an animal lived in there and now I think it's awesome. This thing is fantastic. So much discoloration, squiggles, and unrest that you can't help but love it.

34% chance this is me and former co-blogger Craw in 50 years.
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So am I drug dealer now? Do I have the instinctual ability to move weight on the block?

These are questions I have to ask myself now that I'm consistently seen in public using two cell phones. I have to accept being viewed as a douchebag AND a drug dealer due to things that are outside of my control. One day I was just handed a work phone for seemingly no reason because I'm not important. It's like I was socially abandoned in an empty field and left to die.

I was on the train yesterday with a Droid, an iPhone, an iPod and a Nook on my lap looking like an absolute asshole. Everyone giving me that "You can consolidate all of that into one device" look. Never felt so inefficient. Every time I charge my devices before I go to bed, I put my life in real danger. I'm dealing with like 19 chargers, USB cords, plugs, and all sorts of noises. If I don't see sparks flying from my surge protector, it's a good night.

Real talk, I have no idea how to use the iPhone. Every day I just pretend like I know what I'm doing. Turn on the phone, text the one non-work number I have in my contacts WAY too much, and play that stupid fucking Draw Something game. All I'm doing is bothering people and drawing crude, indecipherable pictures. That's not what the commercial told me I'd be doing. I want to look at celestial designs, effectively use Siri once, and figure out how to turn off the god damn sound.

Aside from these minor issues, having two phones is baller as hell.

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

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Not quite sure what it won, but it did. The buzzer rang and the pizza cone just kicked the shit out of America 100-19.

I want one bad, but at the same time I never want to be in the same room as one. It's a conundrum and a half. Purely a logistical nightmare. No doubt in my mind that the hand in the bottom-right picture got burned clean off. Where does the sauce go? Can't stay in the cone forever.

All in all, I'm going to end up eating this at some point. It's the sad truth. Didn't think I'd eat the Double-Down at KFC--had like 14 of them. I couldn't get to Denny's to grab the triple decker grilled cheese, so I made one myself. I'm a veteran in the disgusting food game and K! Pizza Cone is calling my name.

Going out on a limb and assuming this a Japanese establishment because of the anime-looking K, the random exclamation, and the whole idea of a fucking pizza cone.
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Not at all pleased with this chick's presumed I <3 NY shirt. Must be a tourist, because all NY produces are hicks, rappers, ball players and hilarious bloggers.

My worst "not paying attention while texting moment" is almost bumping into someone. At the very worst a shoulder brush. This bitch FELL into Lake Michigan. How intricate of a text are you crafting that you don't see one of the United States' largest bodies of water? Must have loaded it with emoticons or Chinese characters to get into this situation. Ever get to that dark place on your phone where all you see are accent marks, greek symbols, and scientific-calculator-exclusive functions? Shit's bizarre. You don't know where you are, what you're doing and just want to get back to Twitter and Facebook.

I don't know if it's a gender thing, but chicks can't keep their shit together when they're texting. They completely stop talking, can't walk straight, and borderline get into accidents 100% of the time when they text&drive. Add plunging into Lake Michigan to the list ladies.

Thanks MA-K

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

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I'm legitimately sorry about that...
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Easiest "Friends Ask Dub" ever? Are there words better than "fuck" and "no" that can describe my answer? I don't think so.

For the sake of the ludicrousness of this question, I'll dive into Danny DeLaRosa's psyche. Dude must be a real crazy person, right? Like serious mental problems. Synapses must not synapsing or something. If I see a 5 year old boy drop a unopened lollipop, I'm taking that shit. Mainly because I'm a bad person, but more so because I truly like teaching lessons. If you give "lost" things back to irresponsible people, they'll never know they're irresponsible. You give a dude back $7000 he'll probably go home, immediately lose his baby, leave the oven on, and forget to close the garage door. It was Danny's civil duty to steal that bag of money and ultimately save this dude's baby's life.

Plus, my man has a name tag AND a tree on his shirt. If you're rockin' that devious combo, there is a 500% chance you need that money. I don't care how many tree-planting awards you have on the wall Danny that bag of money could have changed your life. At the very least you could buy a 70 inch flat-screen to make you forget how shitty your life probably is. You made the incorrect play.

PS. Who has $7000 in a brown plastic bag? You ain't Ross.
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Jokes aside, this dude is going to die. Like within the week. In all honesty, I've never seen a more killable dude. Pretty sure I'd have zero issues killing this guy based on sheer principle.

You can't retire from the police force, buy the "expensive" Batman costume at Iparty, and pretend you are making any kind of difference in your drug infested neighborhood. Dealers gonna deal. It's what they do. You're just going to get yourself decapitated running around like a jackass, terrorizing kids and fiddling with your plastic gadget belt. I don't even think the fictional cartoon, Christian Bale Batman can survive out there in Brazil. They have a very loose machete and no-police-officers-in-sight policy out there that I'm not too fond of.

Brazil does two things well: ASS and drug trafficking. Take off the suit, bro.

Monday, March 19, 2012

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No joke, this porcupine definitely had a more productive St. Patrick's Day weekend than me. Probably you too. Nothing beats living life like a pig in shit chomping on corn and speaking nonsense.

Want to know what I was doing Sunday? Being bed-ridden and experiencing the milder stages of vertigo during the nicest day of the year. While I was stumbling through the streets looking for a solid plot of grass to collapse on, this happy-go-lucky bastard is rocking the illest St. Patrick's Day theme bow-tie ever.

PS. If you don't think this porcupine is absolutely terrifying and that we should burn it with fire, you're out of your mind.
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^I'm so embarrassed by this for so many reasons that I had to post it.

First things first, there are only two dudes that use this bathroom. The fact that there are three body washes in there cannot be explained. The result is a catastrophic explosion of douchetastic and confusingly effeminate.

I'll go out and say that the Old Spice: Swagger is mine. Shit smells excellent and gives me that placebo-effect confidence Jordan gave to the Looney Toons in "Space Jam." Extra pep in my step when I rinse that shit off. That wannabe-sword looking knock-off with the fucking wolf on it is my roommate's wash. Not a bad selection, just infinitely worse than mine. You can probably guess what this post is really about though. "Romance" has been an unquestioned mainstay in my bathroom for upwards to two months now with no one asking questions. Not a soul considering to mention it. Just a sliver of Pepto-Bismol colored soap plaguing every day of my life.

Is it mine? I honestly don't know. Throughout the course of work, blogging and general fuckery, things get foggy. Gun to my head, I'd say no because that shit looks like it would instantly give me a rash, but I can't really be too sure. It just looks way too confident standing amongst the douchebag giants Swagger and Howl.

This is the biggest, most intriguing mystery to hit America since Jon Benet Ramsey.

Sunday, March 18, 2012

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This is NOT what I thought "making it rain" would look like. Shit looks like a cluster-fuck. Strippers slipping on wet dollar bills, Fab in the bottom left texting and looking completely disinterested, and a dude undoubtedly screaming like someone dunked in an AND-1 game.

Way too many visible Washingtons present in this photograph. Ever accidentally spill everything out of a three-hole punch? Absolute catastrophe. This is that in rapper-form. Granted, I'll be down there in the scrum with all the strippers and posse stragglers, but I'm a common folk that routinely picks up any form of money off the ground that's not a penny.

Making it rain sounds like a messy process. Completely understand where Adam "Pac-man" Jones was coming from.

Pic from TMZ

Friday, March 16, 2012

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This is why YOLO (you only live once) was the worst thing to ever happen to modern day society. Drake, ugh.

"Poured a bowl of cereal, but didn't have any milk left. Used orange juice. YOLO"

"Skipped class. Too nice out. YOLO"

"It's time to free-fall from space because free-falling off the Christ the Redeemer statue in Rio de Janeiro wasn't enough. YOLO"

Call me a prude, but why bro? You are more or less the same person as the kid that got really good at magic in middle school. Like yeah, it's a little impressive that you made a card disappear, but I'm going to go back to living my life. Once you risk life and limp jumping out of a fucking spacecraft, your best case scenario is becoming a blip on the bottom of with the headline "Daredevil Free-Falls from Space." Yeah you'll be famous for like 2 weeks. Maybe get an interview on the Today Show, but what happens next? Can't jump off the moon. Your career is over Felix.

Can someone explain the "talent" in base-jumping? Is there a way for someone to fall better than someone else? I go by the standard of thinking that if you survive you're awesome at base-jumping. Gold-star.

Leaped off my bed today, didn't die. Sign me Red Bull.

Thanks BB.
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Pro: All your sucker friends are at work and you're drinking

Con: All your friends are at work and you're alone

Pro: Get to watch all the games without your boss lurking behind you

Con: Everyone texts you asking how the games are going

Pro: It's very easy to get the bartender's attention anytime you need something

Con: The bartender KEEPS talking to you

Pro: Beers are flowing

Con: You get drunk way faster than you thought because you forgot to eat food

Pro: Old dudes sit next to you to offer deep basketball intelligence and advice

Con: Just kidding, they snore, drool, and make you wonder if they are dead every few minutes.

Pro: Occasionally friends come by to say hi

Con: They soon leave once they see the sad scene that you're in

Pro: You don't buy anyone else drinks because you're there by yourself

Con: Somehow your tab is ridiculous because you spent 6 hours there

Pro: Didn't blog last night because I was drunk/hungover

Con: Fell asleep with my sneakers on

My one regret is that I didn't bring a phone charger. I was live-tweeting the "event" to all my followers (@WMsDiary) and I was painting a beautifully hilarious/depressing picture. Then my phone died and the magic ended. No regrets though. I had a B+ time.

Thursday, March 15, 2012

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Take away his patented spin-left/spin-right move where he kinda travels and his 75 inch vertical leap and I'm not sure Blake Griffin can play in the NBA.

"Kia, play 'How to Shoot Foul Shots' instructional cassette tape"

All is forgiven.

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

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How many pools are you in? If you're like me you don't want to answer that question and have roughly $300 tied up in all sorts of terrible situations. I'll make a guarantee that none of your pools are linked to anything good either. Just a bunch of friends, family, and coworkers obligatorily filling out brackets and pretending they know things about college basketball. Overall a real grimy process.

Well fellow degenerates, here is an opportunity to clean your conscience and go into the tourney with good spirits. The Uplifting Project is a non-profit organization dedicated to improving the quality of life for people living in impoverished communities. You can get behind that right? Plus it's $10. That's literally one Irish themed drink you'll get on St. Patrick's Day before you throw it up on yourself. Think, do you want to support a group that is helping to save lives or forget you spent $10 while bringing your vomit stained shirt to the dry cleaners. Don't be that guy/girl.

Here's the link. Plus you can see if you can beat me, the college basketball guru himself.

(I spent 45 minutes debating the Alabama-Creighton game..that's all you need to know)
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^have the creepiest website image in the game? Check.

There's no other way around it guys. The chips are just falling into place for me. The difficulty level for picking up chicks is literally at zero right now.

Full disclosure, I'm in my boxers and I just ordered a sandwich from the pizza shop. With Peeked Interest, if the delivery person is a pretty girl, I can fake-text snap a picture of her and post it on the site. If she finds it, says it's her and stupidly says that she wants to meet, I'm set. If she doesn't, oh well. I got my sandwich. That's the beauty of this technological world that we live in these days. The creepers and derelicts can remain in the shadows and still succeed.

While this most assuredly will lead to an increase in kidnappings and murders, there will probably be a few love stories in there as well. Like, "Saw you today scooping up dog poop..thought you were cute LOL" and "I was lurking behind a pillar in the subway and saw you reading a book. Thought I'd say hey" can absolutely lead to success in this fucked up world. Any jabroni with a 5 megapixel cellphone camera can make waves these days.

Lest we forget, tons of people WILL be kidnapped and murdered. Aside from that, business school really paid off for the founders of this website.

Thanks KM
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Get me real liquored up and promise there will be at least a 25:1 girl-guy ratio and maybe I'll poke my head into the Lynn Auditorium to catch a bit of the Irish Rovers. While I'm not against "Venerable Irish-Canadian" folk bands, I'm almost completely against a group of 60+ year old men rocking out on a mountaintop.

Not even joking, Broga Yoga might be the stupidest business that I have ever heard of. Might as well have your slogan be "For the guys that are tired of hot, sweaty chicks in sports bras and yoga pants." Just be up front with it. The only reason I'd ever consider going to a yoga class is exclusively to NOT stretch, oogle at chicks, and eventually get arrested.

I might be able to get down with this. Anytime you're dealing with a CGI snake necklace wrapped around a naked chick, you have to give it an honest chance. While I've never been anything close to an artsy guy, a legitimate artsy chick with weird opinions is certainly on the bucket list.

I was down until that dude in the back came into focus. Like, what is he doing there? Being creepy? Actually enjoying the workout? I can't come close to getting a read on him and his scary smile. Not a chance that this isn't some sort of elaborate trap.

The only one that I looked at and gave real consideration to. Nothing clouds the fact that I am a degenerate than two tickets to the Boston Institute of Contemporary Art. I can tell my mother about this shit so she stops subconsciously hating me. Hell, I have a "classy" date for once that doesn't involve uncomfortable wine ordering and 100+ dollars. Fuck it, Art Museum, I'm in.

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

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I've heard some sad things in my day, but this toilet paper Great Depression is without a doubt the saddest thing I have ever heard. I can just picture a bunch of smelly families lined up outside of a Charmin factory with their toilet paper tickets waiting for weekly rations.

On a serious note, this news kinda sucks for guys, but it is absolutely detrimental for the ladies. TP is involved in every single one of your bathroom transactions. I won't get into the nitty gritty details, but I can assure you that dudes WILL find an alternative. Pretty sure girls will just die off eventually if this famine continues.

While I do recognize that I can still maintain a decent standard of living in this scenario, nothing beats a good roll of toilet paper. I can literally sleep comfortably on 7 sheets of that Charmin Ultra-Soft stuff that those bears keep getting stuck to their butts in the commercials. Meanwhile, the value-brand TP that they put in high school bathrooms is the 7th level of hell. Wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy('s butt).

Moral of the story, I haven't heard anything good come out of the state of New Jersey since I was fucking born. Clean it up guys.
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Ahh…3/14. Pi day. My favorite day of the year. Finally an excuse to show my friends and co-workers how nerdy I am by merely knowing that this day exists. I usually have to resort to Pokemon to do that.

Also, it’s an excuse to make math jokes, which you can never have enough of.

What do you get if you divide a jack-o-lantern by its diameter?

Pumpkin Pi!


For many years I’ve dreamed of having a Pi Day party. Everyone would come dressed in math-related attire (whatever that is), and the entry fee at the door would be a homemade pie. Then everyone would eat the different pies and drink and inevitably vomit, and the bathroom would be left painted in the shades of all the different pies and stomach bile. I can’t wait.

Perhaps one day this math-pastry fusion will become a reality, but for now it remains shelved with all my other aspirations, like my dream of having a fleet of domesticated, highly trained squirrels (we’ll get to that another day).

As the title of this post implies, Pi Day is not the only semi-holiday of this week. March 15 brings us the Ides of March, the day Caesar got stabbed in the back by Brutus. This day gives us the excuse to reference high-school English class and say “Et tu, Brute?” at least four times (also something you can never have enough of).

The 17th brings us St. Patty’s, the closest thing to a real holiday this week has to offer, but more just an excuse to wear green and get drunk by noon (who can complain about that?).

And then we close off the week with a bang on March 21st, the first day of spring. While not actually a holiday, I like to think of it as one. It means that soon I can put away my space heater in exchange for some flip-flops.

So there you have it. 7 days, 4 weird, semi-holidays. So get out there and celebrate!
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^love this dude quietly trying to kill himself

I'll start things off with an incredibly embarrassing story:

-One morning on a typical commute awhile back, I was standing next to this cute girl on the train. Because I have undiagnosed social deficiencies, I angled my body so that there was a possibility of eye-contact. In the process, she started changing songs on her Ipod, to which I had the audacity to say, "Nice choice" when she picked a song I also liked. The world fucking stopped. I blacked out into a confused/embarrassed/dumbfounded oblivion and I'm pretty sure the girl gave one of those "I may get kidnapped" smirks and turned the opposite way.-

Everyone who lives in a major city most likely has to commute to and from work. It's one of the trickiest flirtation processes ever to exist. Just a bunch of dudes and chicks dressed nicely, too tired and stressed to talk to each other. It boils down to straight up staring at people and immediately looking down as soon as they make eye-contact with you. That's it. If you're lucky you may get a legitimate smirk out of someone, but you're probably not going to budge through 16 people just to vomit-words at her.

What are we going to say? "You pumped for the Hunger Games?" That's literally all I've got. With the inclusion of Kindles & Nooks everywhere, we can't even discuss hardcover book plots. I've personally stood by the "you have to drop something at the same time" principle, which means you have to drop something at the same time as a cute girl, bend down and bump heads. Every rom-com says it'll be super cute, you'll exchange numbers and probably get married. Don't know about you guys, but I'm completely on board with the Gosling-McAdams method.

Another one of my patented "moves" that I wouldn't recommend: falling asleep with your mouth open and drool coming out. That's not creating butterflies in anyone's belly.

My advice is so sick.
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So this qualifies as animal cruelty right? Not the fact that this dog was clearly administered codeine and promethazine--it's 2012, that shit can happen to any pup. What's cruel is the fact that this dude videotaped the entire process. Think about your drunkest, most blacked out night and imagine if someone videotaped it and put it on Worldstar Hip Hop. Virtually no coming back from that.

This dog can't perform in any Westminster Dog Shows, get any bit acting roles, or maintain a decent quality of life. His future is permanently tainted. You think I'd be able to get a job if video surfaced of me on any random Saturday night? It's like I always say, you can't fall face first into grass while inebriated off of the purplest of drank and expect that shit not to become viral.

PS. When he had that 2 second delayed reaction to the tennis ball thrown at him, I was so on the verge of sad tears, I started chuckling.

Monday, March 12, 2012

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^you CAN'T rock that facial expression with that look, bro.

Here's are some crazy out-of-the-box ideas: pants, sweatpants, anything but fucking mantyhose, pajama bottoms, jeans.

Onto the question. Before hearing this, I thankfully had no idea mantyhose existed. Frankly I don't really understand the purpose of female pantyhose. I mean, it's kinda sexy? Not a gamechanger, but I don't hate it by any means. I've had girlfriends and have been too nervous to ask them what they're for at risk of sounding like an idiot. So you can understand my confusion as to why the man-version of these exist.

I've never been in the situation where I wanted the looseness and freedom of shorts, but the security of pants. Hasn't once been a problem in my life. But hey, who am I to judge? I'm probably the worst judge of lower-torsowear around. I own two pairs of jeans, two pairs of sweatpants, two pairs of dress pants, and like 7 pajamas. No reason I should have more pajama pants than all others combined. There's also no reason dudes should be wearing these things outside the realm of cold-weather sports.

"Yo man, I have a run in my 'hose, LOL. I'm probably going to head home"--regrettably someone.

What are my thoughts on these? Negative/bad/fuck/awful/terrible.
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Just got emasculated all over the place. I honestly think I'd be more emotionally secure right now if I got beat up by a 12 year old girl than watching this video.

Real talk, I can't walk and text at the same time--legitimate problem. So seeing a dude wheelie a motorcycle in a Batman suit with 135 pounds in his hands is a little much for me. Kind of like when my mother brought me to her room one time when she was in the middle of watching "IT"--the fucking R-rated movie about a killer clown. Sure this would be fine now, but not when I was 3 and on a steady diet of Disney movies and Nick Jr.

Can't make me go from 0-60. I'm just not built for it. Maybe show me a video of this dude riding his bike normal, then a separate video of him benching, and finally a VERY instructional video on how someone can do both at the same time. Then and only then can I be mentally prepared to be put into the fetal position I'm currently in.

It may takes years for my balls to resurface.
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As a 24 year old male, cleaning isn't really my thing. I'm either in permanent pout-mode or I aggressively clean in a way that makes everyone around me uncomfortable. So with that being said, I'm completely on board with this garbage man.

You don't know what could have happened to this dude today. Wife could have woken up on the wrong side of the bed and bitched him into oblivion. Car probably didn't start. His pick-up partner may have brought in the wrong donuts. We just don't know. What we do know is this dude went HAM on that mailbox. Absolutely ruined some family's mail-receiving capabilities for the near future. And got rid of their garbage bin forever.

Next time I clean I want to embody this type of cold-blooded efficiency. Sweep/Mop the floor spotless, rip the faucet out of the sink, scrub down the counters, hop on a Harley-Davidson and ride off into the night.

Friday, March 9, 2012

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I'll open the proceedings with a swift, holy shit. I don't even know what to think about this combination. Not a clue what emotional direction I'm swaying.

To be honest, I don't even remember the last time I had either a nacho cheese Dorito or a Taco Bell taco. I tapped out of the Dorito game after high school because the residue managed to stay on your fingers for like 7 straight hours regardless of how many times you washed your hands. And Taco Bell tacos were legitimately the thing you wanted least on the menu. I went to war with Grilled Stuffed Burritos all day erryday. That said, I'm wildly intrigued by the combination of the two. It's like pairing a bow and arrow. Alone they are useless and unappealing, but together they create a devastating weapon that will cause you to 100% shit your pants.

In a very weird way, this is like when the Flintstones met the Jetson via some plot-driving time warp. Except it's a popular triangular chip meeting a fart-inducing fast food option.

Somewhere, the Mayans are cracking up.

Thursday, March 8, 2012

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Today I realized what it would be like to have a child get lost in the grocery store. Every day on my morning commute I check the blog just to proofread and make sure there aren't any glaring errors. When I did my usual routine, I almost burst into tears of pure confusion and fear. Typed in the URL and all I saw was "Debt Consolidation" and "This page doesn't exist." Was WMD gone forever?

Every year in March I get asked to renew the name "" and I always toss that shit aside and ignore it. In my head, I pretend that Google needs me more than I need them even though they're worth exactly (whatever they're worth)+(zero) more than me. Sometimes I take for granted how much this very stupid website is a part of my every day life. It's at the point where every weekday it's: go to work, go to gym, write blogs, make dinner, crush TV shows, sleep. Ladies?!

My apologies to those of you trying to log-on creepily late last night (you're my favorite readers) or early this morning. I made sure this won't happen again. For now, Dub Jeezy ain't going anywhere.
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Went through the entire day yesterday embarrassingly unaware of the entire KONY situation. Twitter had a field day, every one of my Facebook friends linked the video and every website I went on was talking about it. Somehow I missed it. I wasn't even trying to be cool-kid hipster about it. I just didn't have 30 minutes to watch the video yesterday and am usually scared off by anything in CNN's "World News" section. Thankfully, the internet is legitimately the weirdest place ever.

Put anything to the Fresh Prince beat and my ears perk up. I'd blindly argue this is more effective than the video. I didn't have to see any monstrosities occur on screen, got the message, and now want to help just as much as the next person. Sure he didn't finish writing down all of his lyrics, but the point got across. My ears also perk up when I see the word, "barracks", so this was double effective.

I'll be real, WMD can't do anything to help or hurt this cause, so I'm not going to try. Fly to the motherland, get your passport punched, do the all-weapons-code, and Jason Bourne your way into that motherfucker's stronghold if you want to make a difference. Otherwise, easy with the whole "imparting your views" thing.

Thanks MD.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

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-Rock'n Jock MTV Basketball is borderline a figment of my imagination at this point. I have vague flashes of Gary Payton switching teams at half-time in '96 and Macaulay Culkin hitting a 30 point shot that went through 4 rims. Absolutely no game clock, confused celebs, ashamed athletes, and Pam Anderson. I miss you Rock'n Jock.


Kelly Rowland looking busted as all hell, the two other girls still existing/remaining on the grid, and Beyonce clearly looking like she's going to defect 6 years later? This must be late-90s Destiny's Child. I can almost smell the track inconsistencies of "Bills, Bills, Bills" and "Independent Woman" through my computer.


Shout-out to anyone that gave Prodigy and Compuserve a try. I was way too much of a bitch/visionary to let my Mom come close to installing anything other than AOL. AOL Keyword: NBA, Boobs, Breasts, Nude, Cartoons, Hot Nudes is essentially my entire 90s internet experience.


I spent the equivalent of 4 million little kid dollars on this fucking game. Strictly used Homer and Bart because this was the most sexist game ever. Homer was beating henchmen with his fists, Bart had the skateboard, and Lisa and Marge had a fucking jump rope and a vacuum cleaner. Not a good look hitting a dude in the wrist in a jump rope when you're trying to find Maggie.


Pretty sure this is what Soulja Boy meant when he said, "Hopped up out the bedddddd, turn my swag on." Clarissa was like if Lady Gaga and Nicki Minaj weren't assholes. Coming out with weird shit, but killing the presentation from every angle. Had dudes risking life and limp to ladder their way up to her window (did Sam ever get it in?). Not many girls you do that for. Nah-nah-nuh-nuh-nahhhh

Props to the 90s. Everyone from my generation is going to destroy the world.

-pics from Buzzfeed.

Thanks KM.
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Being a chick is tough. You got to meet all sorts of societal expectations and try to impress people through your looks. Makeup, straightening your hair, and wearing heels are one thing, but ass implants are a whole 'nother hilarious animal.

I get it, guys do that shit too to an extent. We hit the gym, get strange haircuts, and occasionally take steroids. Shriveled balls and back-acne are essentially all we have to worry about on the mean streets of extreme-makeover'ing ourselves. Now I'm not saying I'm a better judge of character than the victims here, but when I see the name "Black Madam" red-flags start popping up. I'm stereotyping to the fullest extent and looking for names like Dr. Adnan Suresh when it comes to something as serious as ass injections. I would be making the extra efforts to make sure my shit is Nicki Minaj-sharp. But you can also submit to the ol' "When Black Madam throws a 'pumping party', you gots'ta go" theory. Hell, if this story never happened, there is a 100% chance I'd attend a pumping party--just sounds like a weird time that I'd most certainly have to investigate.

I'll side with the Madam though. When you're a down on your luck transgendered woman trying your hardest to look like Mo'Nique, you have to make ends meet. Sometimes you make a smooth transaction. Sometimes some weak-bootied bitch rolls through and gets toxic chemicals in her lungs. It's a dice roll and I respect that she's taking chances out here.

Ass implant injections=Recession proof

Thanks ST.
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Time and time again, Discovery Channel spits out some form of crack-cocaine television experience. First there was “Planet Earth” and then there was “Life.” True masterpieces that had the ability to put me to sleep in about 30 seconds.

If you have been a long time reader of WMD, you must know that I have a weird obsession with penguins. In a perfect world I’d own like 5 Emperor Penguins and climate issues wouldn’t cause them to die within 24 hours. It’s still on my bucket list. With that said, the 24-Hour live streaming penguin-cam will have to make due. I never needed anything on a Wednesday more than this.

Pile of work dropped on your desk? Watch penguins flap around for 10 minutes. Susie at HR accuse you of sexual harassment AGAIN? Try to determine if the penguins on the ground are alive or dead. Makes the day go by.

Click the link to become enlightened.

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

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1) I don't care what it takes, I need to own like 22 baby goats by the end of this weekend.

2) They run like shit

3) Parenthood looks awful. Mom is sitting there indifferent as fuck.

4) The second these goats stop doing what they're doing in this video, I'm just releasing them into the wild and starting over with a new batch.

5) I've never been more ready for anything than I am for starting a baby goat sweater factory.
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^some real gritty footage right here

Not surprised at all. Turkeys are perhaps the most underrated terrifying animal in the game today. It's like they KNOW we eat them on Thanksgiving and take any and all opportunities to ruin our lives.

I feel for this Detroit lady. It's not like you can go to court and get a restraining order on an unusually large turkey that follows your every movement. Everyone resigns to the same theory of, "I'll fuck a turkey up if it steps to me." No you won't, those things are way more pissed at you than you are at them.

Fun fact: a turkey knocked me off a bike and chased me for roughly 100 feet when I was 13. To this day, that was the scariest experience of my life. Looked like a XL Hefty bag was swooping in to take my life. Turned out it was just an enraged, potentially rabid turkey. I fully believe that if I fell, I wouldn't be here blogging today.

Godzilla is an ill name for a giant turkey.

PS. Turkeys die at a terrifyingly rapid rate when it rains.

Monday, March 5, 2012

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^just a couple ape-mammoths, Rigs? Pfft, not a problem.

So I think I joked myself into wanting to see John Carter. Not something I'm proud of, but definitely not the worst thing that can happen.

I'm just as excited as anybody else to see a Star Wars Episode I-Avatar-Clash of The Titans-Friday Night Lights knock-off that features Tim Riggins bludgeoning ridiculous creatures with boulders. I mean where can it go wrong?

Charismatic Main Character? Check.
-Texas Forever. We're Going To State. I'm Shitfaced At 2:30 PM On A Wednesday. Garrity.

Outrageous Quote That Winds Up Being Awesome After 20+ Listens? Check.
"I did not start this. But I will end it!"--Implies that he just happened to stumble into some bad shit and took it upon himself to fix it. Noble.

This Thing? Check

Swag. #Leggo

Catch me in the theater this Friday. I'll be in the front row with my Dillon Panthers letterman on and three packs of Black Valley Gummy Bears.
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Without question, I fully believe this dog-porcupine-American Bald Eagle-pterodactyl-robot hybrid is EXACTLY what a Chupacabra looks like. I'm just going to blindly believe that a mad scientist somewhere organized the weirdest, most logistically poor orgy of all time and created this demon creature that lacerates goats by the dozens.

This post isn't about the Chupacabra though, it's about this asshole:

How can I take your graphic news report about vicious mythical creatures seriously when you introduce it with a 3D squirrel? I'm no media expert, but I have a suspicion that artistically crude squirrels aren't the best opener to a story about the mass killing of goats. Plus his presenta of the Alamo Seguros is a little pushy with the T-Shirt and the hanging sign. Let me theorize chupacabra existence without your ads bro.

Real talk, I fully believe these things exist.
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If you follow me on Twitter (@WMsDiary), you would have seen an alarming tweet I put up addressing a phone call with my mother today. I was talking to her about cell phone games when all of a sudden the conversation shifted to childhood toys/games. She tore me up. Just broke me down bit by bit giggling at how much I sucked at everything she ever laid out in front of me. She thought we were joking around as adults, but I was 100% crying on the inside.

Thing I Sucked At #1: The Slinky

The slinky was probably the most basic "toy" ever created. Just a fucking coil. Somehow I managed to ineffectively play with it. My mom said that at least two times a day she'd find me incorrectly playing with a tangled up slinky that never went down the stairs like the commercials. The part that really hurt was when she said, "I didn't even understand how you were capable of turning a simple coil into the most complicated knot of all time." In my head I thought my shit "walked the stairs without a care" and went "up and down just like a clown."

Thing I Sucked At #2: Simon

I kind of saw where my Mom was coming from here. What went from a cute, "Aw, he's just mashing the colors at random" became a concerned, "I don't think he knows what the goal of this game is at all." Simon was a mind-blowing experience to be apart of as a little kid. My senses were challenged on all sorts of levels. Hearing the 'beeps', 'boops', and seeing all the lights flashing, it's a miracle I didn't epilepsy-out at some point. Needless to say, it took me probably 2 years of consistent playing to realize it was a memory game. When I officially found out how to play, I proceeded to suck really bad at it. Mama Jeezy had to have made a few calls to some doctors at that point.

Thing I Sucked At #3: Etch-A-Sketch

To this day, I still think these are as complicated as Rubik's Cubes. How the fuck do you make a curvy line? With that question presented, my mom said I use to present to her exclusively squares on the Etch-A-Sketch. Nothing more, nothing less. Some days it'd be 5 small squares, others would be 3 large squares. It used to take me hours and bless her soul she put that fake-proud/concerned smile on her face every single time. It's probably best I didn't end up good at these though. I'd probably have to sacrifice any and all female interaction for the ability to create Etch-A-Sketch Barack Obama.

Before any of you break into the "Does Dub have a mental deficiency?", I'll stop you short and say...maybe. It's very possible. Combine my complete inability to wrap a gift with my mother's startling admission and we may have a full blown case of blogging Rain Man on our hands.

Friday, March 2, 2012

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I don’t know what’s weirder, this video or the fact that a friend of mine emailed it to me with the subject line: “think you might enjoy this.” Worst part is she was absolutely right. I enjoyed the fuck out of these two serial killers crushing toy cats to the rhythm of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”.

The BBC really throws you for a loop, huh? One second you’re learning about the glacial ecosystems and the next you’re watching a couple of dudes playing cat musical instruments. Can’t knock their hustle one bit. I’ve convinced myself that I can make a legitimate rap beat with retractable pen clicks at least 100 times. I just never got my opportunity. Some people use 25 stuffed-cats from Toys’R Us and some dudes rhythmically click their BIC Atlantis pens until something sounds good. We’re all grinding out here and for that I endorse this video.

750% chance these dudes have killed people/buried bodies in their lifetime. Frankly, if the creepy jams keep coming, I can look past that.

Thanks JK

Thursday, March 1, 2012

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Believe me, being a all-powerful internet mogul isn't easy. It's not all glitz, glam, and beautiful women. It's hard work and dedication.

JumpGenre founder and former Working Man's Diary blogging superstar Craw just couldn't hang this Thursday night. Dude came upstairs ready to crush some trash TV and fell asleep in like 15 seconds. Then he started Tebowing and snoring. Made for an overall unpleasant television experience.

Just when you think all we do is blog, drink, and creep on girls, we surprise you and show you a picture of us on down time. We're humans too.