So, I found out yesterday at noon that today I would be leaving for Las Vegas at 4:30. Amazing right? Right! So I'm sitting here at the airport waiting for my plane to take me to an amazing place where I plan to make it fucking rain on the craps table. Me and my cousin, D-reezy, are gonna light this place up. And if I'm not making it rain, I'm gonna be shooting machine guns and blowing shit away.
Now I know going on this trip is awesome, but the story before leaving is not nearly as interesting as the story after I get home. So, I'll stop talking about it until I get back.
On an equally amazing note, we're closing in on our 30,000th hit! So just like always, I want someone to snap a picture of it if it's you. So make sure after you read this, that you check out the bottom of the page to see if you're lucky #30,000. The person that sends me this picture will win an amazing souvenir from Las Vegas, assuming I have enough money left to actually buy you anything.
That is all, wish me luck!
Friday, December 17, 2010
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Monday, December 13, 2010
Big Foot Wuz Here
So, I was at the bar this past week and as usual, I was drinking beer. Now, most of you know this about me already, but some of you may not so I thought I'd inform you that usually when I drink beer, I end up having to pee later. So eventually after a while, I had to pee and when I'm at the bar, my absolute favorite place to go pee is in the men's room so that's where I took myself.
That is where this story took a scary yet mysterious yet intriguing turn. As I stepped up to the urinal, I looked around to take in my surroundings, get a real feeling for the bathroom you know? That's when I saw it - the scariest, grossest, most peculiar thing in the world. A pube the size of a fork! That's right! Look at this mother whattin' beast!
What monstrosity of a man left this behind? And possibly an even more interesting question, how the hell did it end up on the top of the urinal, which is about 4 feet high. Let's think about this. First of all, this has to be the hairiest man on Earth with absolutely no manscaping capabilities/considerations. Second of all, he needs to be tall enough that a pube could fall out and still land on the top of the urinal.
Looking at all the facts, it's pretty clear that there's really only one possibility. Big Foot stopped by Rafter's in Amherst, MA to catch a football game and drain the lizard. What else could have left something like this behind? Nothing. That's what. If anyone has any more information on this story, like when Big Foot was there and if he'll be back soon, I'd love to hear about it.
P.S. You should note that the fork wasn't there when I saw the pube. There's just no way to see the pube's true size unless there is something to compare it to.
That is where this story took a scary yet mysterious yet intriguing turn. As I stepped up to the urinal, I looked around to take in my surroundings, get a real feeling for the bathroom you know? That's when I saw it - the scariest, grossest, most peculiar thing in the world. A pube the size of a fork! That's right! Look at this mother whattin' beast!
What monstrosity of a man left this behind? And possibly an even more interesting question, how the hell did it end up on the top of the urinal, which is about 4 feet high. Let's think about this. First of all, this has to be the hairiest man on Earth with absolutely no manscaping capabilities/considerations. Second of all, he needs to be tall enough that a pube could fall out and still land on the top of the urinal.
Looking at all the facts, it's pretty clear that there's really only one possibility. Big Foot stopped by Rafter's in Amherst, MA to catch a football game and drain the lizard. What else could have left something like this behind? Nothing. That's what. If anyone has any more information on this story, like when Big Foot was there and if he'll be back soon, I'd love to hear about it.
P.S. You should note that the fork wasn't there when I saw the pube. There's just no way to see the pube's true size unless there is something to compare it to.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
So, I got a new lizard. As some of you know, Hans wasn't eating when I brought him home to the Edge. The people at the pet store said it was probably stress. Anyway, I took him back to he wouldn't die and I picked up his cousin, Chief Wilbur Smithsonian, also known as C.W., C-dubs, Wilby, The Chief, and Wilburwilburwilbur.
Unfortunately, Wilbur is not the most well behaved lizard in the world. I take him out all the time to play with him and let him explore the house. He jumps from table to table, climbs curtains, and hides in magazines. He also has a very bad habit of pooping when I'm holding him/hanging out with him.
Over a 3 day period, Wilbur pooped and peed on my computer, on the pants of my suit which I had picked up from the dry cleaners the day before, and in my hand. Yup! I'm sitting there, holding this little bugger, telling him how much I love him and he fucking shits in my hand. What the flop! To be honest, I blame TV and the internet. Lizards these days have no respect for their parents or authority figures. They just go around peein on computers and shitting in people's hands and its unacceptable. These lizards are the future of this country and if something doesn't change, this country is going to be in trouble.
On top of all that, Wilbur bit me last night! Right on my thumb! Now granted he has no teeth and it didn't hurt at all, but it scared the shit out of me. For a split second, I thought it was a crocodile chomping down on my hand getting ready to go into a death roll. Then I realized he was 5 inches long and I could've just thrown him across the room if I wanted to. I didn't though cuz he's my little pal and boys will be boys right?
That's all for now on Wilbur. Good day.
PS Don't expect a post on Friday. I've got more work than my little brain can handle, I almost chose not to write this one.
Unfortunately, Wilbur is not the most well behaved lizard in the world. I take him out all the time to play with him and let him explore the house. He jumps from table to table, climbs curtains, and hides in magazines. He also has a very bad habit of pooping when I'm holding him/hanging out with him.
Over a 3 day period, Wilbur pooped and peed on my computer, on the pants of my suit which I had picked up from the dry cleaners the day before, and in my hand. Yup! I'm sitting there, holding this little bugger, telling him how much I love him and he fucking shits in my hand. What the flop! To be honest, I blame TV and the internet. Lizards these days have no respect for their parents or authority figures. They just go around peein on computers and shitting in people's hands and its unacceptable. These lizards are the future of this country and if something doesn't change, this country is going to be in trouble.
On top of all that, Wilbur bit me last night! Right on my thumb! Now granted he has no teeth and it didn't hurt at all, but it scared the shit out of me. For a split second, I thought it was a crocodile chomping down on my hand getting ready to go into a death roll. Then I realized he was 5 inches long and I could've just thrown him across the room if I wanted to. I didn't though cuz he's my little pal and boys will be boys right?
That's all for now on Wilbur. Good day.
PS Don't expect a post on Friday. I've got more work than my little brain can handle, I almost chose not to write this one.
Monday, December 6, 2010
Umass + Freshmen = Idiots
So this past week, I had to watch presentations put on by class i TA for. Apparently no one has ever told these kids either how to dress for a presentation or how to act during presentations. Here are a few of the things I noticed/saw during the presentations.
What the hell is Umass admissions doing over there. Is there any sort of screening process or do you just have to know how wear Uggs and/or sweat pants to get into this school. Either way, I can't wait to grade their papers because I have a feeling I'm going to just be screaming at the top of my lungs as their idiocy. I'll keep you posted on that one.
- 8 kids in the class wore sweatpants during their presentation. 1 wore a matching sweat pant/sweat shirt combo.
- 5 kids were wearing hats while they presented, 2 of which were backwards.
- 3 kids were wearing work boots.
- 1 kid wore dress pants and a button down shirt tucked in with no belt.
- 1 kid was sleeping during the other presentations
- 1 kid was facing the screen while his group presented with his back to the crowd.
- 1 kid actually looked at the screen with his back to us while he was talking!
What the hell is Umass admissions doing over there. Is there any sort of screening process or do you just have to know how wear Uggs and/or sweat pants to get into this school. Either way, I can't wait to grade their papers because I have a feeling I'm going to just be screaming at the top of my lungs as their idiocy. I'll keep you posted on that one.
Friday, December 3, 2010
Come on Hands! Get with It!
So, it was a nice Wednesday morning. I woke up before my alarm around 7:15 AM. I checked my clock and laid back down, a little nervous about my two presentations that I had to make that day. The first of which began at 8:15 AM. I closed my eyes and expected to get 10 more minutes of sleep before my alarm went off at 7:25. Again, I wake up, this time to birds chirping outside my window (not really but it adds to the story) and I check my clock to see how much time I have until my alarm goes off.
8:01 AM. FUCK.
Oh ya. It's time to freak out. Keep in mind, I usually give myself 20 minutes to leave my house and get to class on time. I now have 14 minutes to get out of bed, get dressed, and get to class on time. Luckily, like the little weirdo I am, I have my shirt laid out on my futon and my pants and socks laid out on my computer chair.
I jump out of bed faster than I start dance circles (which is really fast) and immediately grab my pants. I slip them over my feet and pull them up and begin to try and button them. Normally, this wouldn't be an issue. But for some fucking reason, both of my hands are asleep. What are the odds? Seriously. I'm yelling at my hands, "Come on! Come on!" Shaking them so violently trying to get them to function even at like 20% capacity. I give up on doing my pants and grab my socks and somehow slip them on. I get my undershirt and shirt on and by that time, with my pants by my ankles, my hands have woken from their slumber and I am able to get my pants on.
I look to my deodorant which is on the other side of my room. Well fuck that. I pack up my computer, grab my keys, phone, wallet, bottle of water, and my belt, throw 8 tic tacs in my mouth and run the fuck out to my car knowing I have a little tube of toothpaste in there from the dentist. I start the car, back out of my driveway at 65 MPH and burn down my street. (Not really, my car has been running horribly and it was sputtering the whole way down my street.) I throw some toothpaste on my finger while I'm stopped at a traffic light - mind you, a traffic light that I hit while it is green nearly 95% of my time. I race through 2 more yellow lights on my way and ignore 3 separate crosswalks with people waiting to cross them.
Somehow I make it to my parking lot with 3 minutes to spare so I hop out of my car and do the back pack run. That's right. The most embarrassing run of all time. Running with a back pack will never look good cuz you do the same thing every time. You grab the straps with your hands and pull them down so your bag bounces as little as possible. You take full strides yet you stand up straighter than you're normal run for no known reason. Also, for some reason there seems to be a little more of a bounce in your step than usual. All in all, the back pack run sucks, but it did get me to class in time.
Turns out my presentation wasn't until the end of class and the only thing I got to class on time for was to receive my awful grade on the quiz he was handing back that day. Hooray!
8:01 AM. FUCK.
Oh ya. It's time to freak out. Keep in mind, I usually give myself 20 minutes to leave my house and get to class on time. I now have 14 minutes to get out of bed, get dressed, and get to class on time. Luckily, like the little weirdo I am, I have my shirt laid out on my futon and my pants and socks laid out on my computer chair.
I jump out of bed faster than I start dance circles (which is really fast) and immediately grab my pants. I slip them over my feet and pull them up and begin to try and button them. Normally, this wouldn't be an issue. But for some fucking reason, both of my hands are asleep. What are the odds? Seriously. I'm yelling at my hands, "Come on! Come on!" Shaking them so violently trying to get them to function even at like 20% capacity. I give up on doing my pants and grab my socks and somehow slip them on. I get my undershirt and shirt on and by that time, with my pants by my ankles, my hands have woken from their slumber and I am able to get my pants on.
I look to my deodorant which is on the other side of my room. Well fuck that. I pack up my computer, grab my keys, phone, wallet, bottle of water, and my belt, throw 8 tic tacs in my mouth and run the fuck out to my car knowing I have a little tube of toothpaste in there from the dentist. I start the car, back out of my driveway at 65 MPH and burn down my street. (Not really, my car has been running horribly and it was sputtering the whole way down my street.) I throw some toothpaste on my finger while I'm stopped at a traffic light - mind you, a traffic light that I hit while it is green nearly 95% of my time. I race through 2 more yellow lights on my way and ignore 3 separate crosswalks with people waiting to cross them.
Somehow I make it to my parking lot with 3 minutes to spare so I hop out of my car and do the back pack run. That's right. The most embarrassing run of all time. Running with a back pack will never look good cuz you do the same thing every time. You grab the straps with your hands and pull them down so your bag bounces as little as possible. You take full strides yet you stand up straighter than you're normal run for no known reason. Also, for some reason there seems to be a little more of a bounce in your step than usual. All in all, the back pack run sucks, but it did get me to class in time.
Turns out my presentation wasn't until the end of class and the only thing I got to class on time for was to receive my awful grade on the quiz he was handing back that day. Hooray!
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
What I Do When I Blackout
So the other night, my friends and I went to another friend's apartment with plans to go to a great bar called, Cleary's. We started drinking and having a good time, chatting it up with long lost friends and eating pita chips and tortilla chips and chocolate covered raisins (love em!) Anyway, it started getting late, we all started getting drunk, and then someone made the executive decision not to go to the bar and just stay at the apartment.
At first I was a little upset because I love Cleary's and I love dancing and you can dance at Cleary's so it's a great combo for me. But then I started to get really drunk and so I got happy again. So I was really drunk and what did I do? I kept drinking until I was black out drunk.
Then I realized, I do the same things every time I black out. Side note: I only know these things because of stories, pictures and videos that my friends show/tell me because clearly I don't remember what I do when I'm black out.
At first I was a little upset because I love Cleary's and I love dancing and you can dance at Cleary's so it's a great combo for me. But then I started to get really drunk and so I got happy again. So I was really drunk and what did I do? I kept drinking until I was black out drunk.
Then I realized, I do the same things every time I black out. Side note: I only know these things because of stories, pictures and videos that my friends show/tell me because clearly I don't remember what I do when I'm black out.
- Dance - I always dance when I'm blackout. Even if no one else is dancing. Even if there is no music being played. I'm gonna dance, especially if there is a banana near me, as proven by this picture.
- Magic - That's right, I don't care what you think, I do magic. And if I'm super drunk, I screw up most of my tricks yet I'm sure I still think it's impressive. And finally, if I'm really really drunk, I'll teach my tricks to other people so they realize just how crazy my magic skills are. Pathetic, I know. Shut up.
- Text - This usually gets me into trouble, but sometimes I just have glorious moments and text things that no one will ever understand. Like this one: "Clearly i am an unstoppable lyrical force laid upon shallow graves that I hope the beats contained within give way to the god layin/dow his blazenous sword." What the fuck does that mean? No one will ever know.
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