Tuesday, April 30, 2013

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Before I dive in, have to drop a big "I'm sorry" to the girlfriend, but I have to do this.  It's Martha Stewart.  It's white Oprah!  Now excuse me while I spit the illest of game in Marth's grill.  I call her Marth because we already have a connection.  Through the internet.

Grade-A, #1, Guaranteed Plan to Win Marth's Heart:

1)  Make a joke about the "Wink for free" button
- "Girl, there is no dollar amount that can equal winking at you."  ; )

2)  Small talk her into submission
- "No Martha, I've never heard of you, silly.  Stop asking me that."  *Birdman hand rub*

3)  Find a common-ground
- "What fool would divorce you?  You're very beautiful and it's pretty evident that you work out, so that's just plain poppycock."

4)  Make her feel comfortable about the age difference
- "If you didn't list your age, I'd guess 39-43."

5)  Disarm her with charm and humor
- "HA! I'm a social drinker only when I'm not drunk.  Am I right?!"

6)  Invite her to something she likes to do based on her interests
-  "I saw some soil around my apartment, wanna plant something?"

7) To the victor goes the spoils
- "Honey, I can put this Playstation 4 on your credit card, right?  Thanks!  And yes, Working Man's Diary IS my job, you know that.  Silly goose"

Done and done.  I'll be hanging with Jay-Z and Bono by the end of June.

Monday, April 29, 2013

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I never had a choice....

First things first, here's the video:

It's an eerie combination of awful and stupendous at the same time.  Like watching a horrific car crash, finding out no one got hurt and seeing newborn kittens emerge from the rubble.  That's exactly how I felt while I watched this.

Pretty sure I had an aneurysm and that lead me to tweet that this video should win two VMAs, a Razzie, a Pulitzer, a Purple Heart and be banned from Youtube at the same time.  Ray J is the hero we needed, but didn't deserve.

Not all rappers go to the club, Ray.  C'mon.

Nailed this part though.  ALL semi-ambiguous white dudes go to the park to dunk by themselves.

"Yeah, I know this video is making you question everything in your life right now"

"There's no way that any of this can end badly!"

Tupac hologram > Reboot > Fake Kim hologram

Fake Kim really looks like Kim though.  You know, before she got fat and gross and stuff.


Jokes aside, who the FUCK is Bobby Brackins?  Skip his entire part, it takes away from the story.

Dancing in the apartment next to the hologram because again, THERE'S NO WAY THIS CAN END BADLY.

Legitimately proud of Ray J for coming up with the F! channel.

This comment IS the internet.

I need to take a bath.

Friday, April 26, 2013

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So close, you guys.  Not too long from now and we'll be able to sleep all up in the trees like this guy here.  A couple of things on the agenda before we all get the eff out of wherever we are right now:

1)  How does one acquire a Panda, sustain it's lifestyle and keep it from killing you?

2)  Are trees comfortable to sleep in?

That's homework for the weekend.  Let me know what you guys come up with.

Thursday, April 25, 2013

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I've been on a pretty  impressive "saying questionable things" streak, so I might as well keep it alive by saying, that I'm on board with buying/investing in kids.  There, it's out in the open.  Let me explain.

This baby:

has to be worth at least $5 million dollars.  Combining Dirk Nowitzki with a tall, slender black woman could equal the greatest basketball player in the history of basketball.  5 mil is a bargain, nay, a steal.

Now I don't agree with the selling of the baby, but love the value in picking one up for $850.  The odds are high in your favor for a solid return on your investment.  At this stage in my life, I almost have to buy a baby for $850 if the situation presents itself.  She might be the next Adele or Beyonce, depending on race.  I could also have a little LeBron James.  If the demon child turns into a psychopath or a wildly unsuccessful person, what's $850 in the grand scheme?  That's just 850 McDoubles to me.  Yeah, I see dollars as cheeseburgers, but that doesn't mean that I can't spot an investment when I see one.

I want this Blake Griffinized Dirk baby and I need it within the week.

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

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Hey Tim Yarrow, I don't care how long you spent underwater, get your hand out of here.  Looking like a crumpled up wet paper towel.  Disgusting and offensive.  Stay off the internet with shit like this, man.

That's all I got.  Pure unadulterated disgust, confusion and anger.  Tim Yarrow, I don't know him, but I do know that he's terrible person.
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So a stripper posted her haul from a night at "work":

And needless to say my entire life philosophy is all messed up.  I was essentially programmed with two plans: A) Try not to have a daughter B) If I have a daughter, make sure she is not a stripper.  Well now I have no idea what to do.  Is the revised play to have a daughter and force her to be a stripper?  And if so, how does one go about doing that?


(It's already implied that you have to be a terrible person and have an equally terrible spouse)

1)  Name her something very stripperish like: Champagne, Virtually Any Gemstone, Your Favorite Bottle of Alcohol

2)  Raise her poorly - err on the side of neglect, but make sure you're a driving force in her life.  This part's tough, but it'll payoff when she's making millions being naked on a stage.

3)  Make school optional - focus on fitness and monitoring the dudes that she brings home (unless they can make great industry connections, of course) because fat and STDs are not the move when you're a highly successful stripper.

4)  Have a "DD Account" saved up in the bank - this is more of a "Break in Case of Emergency" thing.

5)  Yearly trips to the NBA All Star Game - call these "recon missions"


7)  Never go to the club she is at - you have standards, remember?

8)  Chill on the couch and wait for stripper checks to come in

9)  Wait for the knock on the door, subsequent hug and "Thank You, Daddy" from your daughter 4 years later.

10)  Eventually go to the VIP section of Hell.

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

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If you answered "Yes", you win.  You win big because I'm fucking terrified.  I could literally eat that burger right now, knowing that it's 14 years old and the pickle has apparently disintegrated.


Let that sink in for a second.  Now think about all the McDonald's that you've eaten in your life.  There was a period where I sometimes ate Mcdonald's 2-3 times a day because it was there.  Proximity is the sole reason why I have indigestible "meat" and "bread" sitting in my loins as I type this.  Maybe I'm stronger because of it and have some gross ass super power.  Maybe I have a powerful tapeworm living in me.  Who knows.  All I know is that I'm scared.  I'm not scared of the burger's longevity, I'm scared that I still want McDonald's and this burger in particular.

I'm not even hungry and I could eat that burger right now.  Just some really sad and surreal shit going on in WMD HQ right now.
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Exhibit A: Kate Middleton

Queen Kate, looking all regal and shit.  Sexy, elegant and downright classy.  She's beating the hell out of pregnancy so bad that the kid in the red sweater is super sad about it.

Exhibit B: Halle Berry

They caught Halle mid-smile and she is STILL killing it.  If you're caught in a picture mid-smile it's probably the worst you can ever look.  Eyes all squinted and lips all contorted and what not.  Not Halle.  She's still hotter than the hottest girl you've ever seen.

Exhibit C: Ew

Here's Kim Kardashian wearing a 400 thread count king-size bed sheet around her body holding a child that she is definitely considering eating.  "But I'm pregnant" can only last for about 20-25 extra pounds.  Anything else and your just a fat person that happens to be pregnant.  Kanye can't be thrilled that any sexual encounter with Kim can result in him getting lost forever in Narnia.

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

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Maybe it's the crude Photoshop work.  Maybe it's the inclusion of GoldenEye.  I don't know, but this is comedy.  Pure unadulterated funny.  You can truly fuck up a day and possibly ruin a black man's life if you tell him that his hairline looks like it was constructed with a paint can and a Nintendo 64 cartridge.

.Gifs like these are why terrorists will never crush America.

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Beyonce's playing with house money right now.  Ruining international relationships with places that we already had a ruined relationship with, strategically lip-syncing the National Anthem, and wearing titty shirts are all par for the course these days with Queen Bey.  

Titty suits.  So hot right now.  Bet future Blue Ivy is super thrilled about these pics too.  Nothing beats having some asshole in your class text you pictures of your mother when she wore a titty suit.  And hey, Beyonce, cut the shit.  Your boobs aren't there anymore.  They were and they still probably look awesome, but I doubt they're defying gravity and look like mashed pancakes with Hershey kisses.  No I wouldn't mind seeing them to verify, but don't skew our imaginations, girl.

Whoa, blog took a weird turn there.  I'm going to hop off now and hope Jay doesn't figuratively "drop this" blog from the "team."

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

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I truly hate that it took such a horrific and tragic disaster to occur before I felt it.  I hate that a child and two others had to lose their lives before I felt it.  I hate that families were forever destroyed before I felt it.  I hate that President Obama had to eloquently reassure us before I felt it.  I hate that it took all of these senseless, tear-inducing events for me to feel it, but I certainly feel it now.  Boston is my home.

I've been living in this city for nearly 8 years now and I never truly identified with it.  Don't get me wrong, I love it - it has everything that a twentysomething needs without the added pretentiousness.  It was just never home to me.  Unfortunately it took one of the worst acts in American history to wake my stupid ass up.  I don't have to like any of the sports teams, the accent, the public transit, the bar close time, but I really and truly love this place.  This city formed and cultivated me into the man that I am today.  I found my girlfriend in this city.  I've made lifelong friendships in this city.  Boston, no matter where I end up in life, you and New York City will always be home to me.

NOTE: I was off from work today, but took the time to head down to my office building to pick up my laptop and "work from home."  My building was very close to the attack to the point that I saw both explosions outside of my window.  On the way in to the building and on my way home I took some pictures of the scene - here they are:

One of the many press conferences going on throughout the city

A husband and wife came to pick up their running bags

There were still quite a few left

My office building with the flags at half mast

Soldiers parked outside of my building in a Humvee with a turret attached on top

Soldiers huddling together while onlookers took pictures.  Felt safe today

Most surreal image of the day - this is the truck the police use to test for bombs.

Bostonian for life...

Sunday, April 14, 2013

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You think I actually watch the golf?  Nope, shit's boring as hell.  A 14-year old was flooding my CNN Breaking News notifications all week, so that says everything you need to know about the difficulty of the sport.  Unpopular opinion aside, white people scurrying after golf balls is absolutely hilarious.  Some of the most unsound scurrying of all time too.  Just a pack of upper-middle class geese traversing a hill trying to make sure that their polos don't unravel out of their khaki shorts.  Truly a sight to behold.

Golf.  LOL.

Thursday, April 11, 2013

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Oh lawd, this is some nightmarish information.  According to Science, we're fucked.  Just billions and billions of giant, flying cockroaches have been buried in the ground since I was 8 and have been biding their time to wreak havoc.

1996 was when these things made the executive decision to ruin all of our lives in 2013.  Can't knock their logic.  

I mean they only really missed:

That's basically it.  Probably the best 17 year span that a bunch of killer-insects could miss.

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

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Looks like a twisted game of Mad-Libs.  Also, this may be the only time in my life that I can take a picture of my TV with the words "Lucky Charms" and "Titties" on the screen.  It was my civil duty to take this picture for you all.

For those of you wondering, the survey topic was "Name a part of the body that starts with the letter "T."  The guy was basically dared to say some variation of "tits" and he didn't hesitate.  Just hit Steve Harvey with an insane fastball up near the chin and continued to bro-out like any dude that would say titties on national TV would.

Much love to those 4 frat bros that answered a mail-in survey with titties.  The world needs more of you.

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It's official: nothing in this world is sacred anymore.  We just shot an elephant, ya'll. In a drive-by shooting nonetheless.  Fucking Mississippi, man.  Like 18 years late in the drive-by game and not even shooting the right species.

Let's talk about the elephant though.  It could NOT have been thrilled about the tour making a stop in Tupelo, Miss.  Just like, "Aw shit, something bad will probably happen to me here."  Low and behold, it got drive-by'd.  Granted, it's an elephant and a drive-by shooting ends up being a minor inconvenience, but it's the principle.  Plus this thing has like 18 bodyguards surrounding it and couldn't even get a little bit of protection.

T-Minus 36 hours until Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson are raining fire all over Mississippi for elephant-related hate crime.

Monday, April 8, 2013

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Simple mistake right?  I mean, what are the odds that some dude would inject steroids and use an afro-pick on a ferret and try to sell it as a poodle for $850 below regular market price.

Well, let's look at the videotape:

This looks nothing like a fucking poodle.  Like absolutely nothing.  Looks exactly like a ferret on steroids that got it's hair fluffed with an afro-pick.  Shout out to this con-artist for taking a shot down field and actually succeeding.  Beat the odds and made a smooth three hundo for selling some jacked street rats.