Your child is a germ monster

This morning I saw a commercial that started off with a woman saying, 'You love your kids, but sometimes they can carry germs.' Then her son came home from school and suddenly his body was covered in multicolored germs. Then he touched a phone and the phone got germs, too. Then his little sister walked toward the infected phone and I yelled, 'No, Sis, don't do it!' at my TV.

Thankfully they showed a can of Lysol and said, 'But Lysol kills germs!' and then the mom sprayed Lysol on the phone and the germs went away. The commercial ended with something like, 'Buy Lysol because your kid is a fucking monster,' but I wasn't happy. The monster's still out there.

Why don't you spray your kid with the Lysol, lady? He's got germs on him and clearly he isn't bathing, so why not spray him down with your magic can of Lysol? Get it on his clothes, in his hair, and most importantly, in his eyes. That little shit's going to infect your whole house if you don't stop him, so blind him with Lysol and throw him outside, and whatever you do, don't let him back in.

He might have germs on him.

(work.)

Tyra Banks vs. World of Warcraft

Recently Tyra Banks brought in a psychologist to tear a World of Warcraft addict a new asshole. Basically a guy didn't take care of his stupid baby because he plays WoW too much. However, the WoW addict didn't argue his point very well.

The psychologist said, 'You know, I think you started playing because you're afraid to be a father.' The WoW addict didn't say anything, but what he should have said was,
'I'm not afraid to be a father. It's just that babies are boring, and last night I went on this sweet raid with my guild and got some awesome loot, and what do I get if I hang out with my baby? Fond memories? Lame. Call me when you drop some fire armor, baby. That is, unless you're too dumb to use a telephone.'

My point here is that babies are boring. That's all.

(work.)

To watch Tyra, some "doctor," and the mom sit around and talk smack about the WoW addict, check Part 1:

Tyra's really good at knowing stuff. This is evidenced by how she says things like, "It's just a game, and the game is fake, but you're real, and you're a beautiful human, and he's wrong, and World of Warcraft isn't real." Good for her.

In Part 2, The WoW addict is brought in, he makes up some crap about Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, then he and the know-it-all gang shred his World of Warcraft installation discs.

(after the cameras stop rolling)
WoW Addict: I don't have to uninstall the game or delete my account, do I?
"Doctor": Do what now? I don't know what you're talking about.
WoW Addict: Nevermind.

He doesn't even own a bed

I used to feel ambitious for starting work at 7am every weekday, but when I mentioned my work schedule to Amy's dad, he shot me down.

(I yawn after dinner)
Amy's Dad: 'Tired?'
Me: 'Kinda. Been up since 6.'
AD: 'I was having my second cup of coffee at about that time, because I've been up since 4.'
Me: 'Yeah, well, I worked until 5, and I went to bed after midn-'
AD: 'Did I say 4? I meant 2 in the morning.'
Me: 'That doesn't sound realistic.'
AD: 'Last time I woke up, it was September.'
Me: 'Okay, you've made your point.'
AD: 'I DON'T OWN A BED.'
Me: 'I get it, I'm lazy.'
AD: 'There's a pile of straw in the corner of my bedroom where I make my wife sleep.'

The lesson here is that if a man prides himself on working hard, don't talk to him about work or he'll force his wife to sleep on the floor.

...or something.

(bed.)

Sometimes I'll think about waking up really early just so I could say, 'I've been up that long, too,' but I don't want to start waking up at the crack of dawn just to win a pissing contest.

Interviewee wants to bang my sister

This week I'm doing interviews with potential rovers, and for the most part they're going very well. However, we've had a couple interviews that just straight up sucked.

So we're interviewing this mediocre guy for the roving position, which involves driving a van around campus and delivering and/or fixing things. As soon as we told him that this was the job for which he was interviewing, he looked crestfallen.

It was like we'd just told him that the job would require him to walk around a retirement center wearing a nightgown, occasionally spanking all the old people with a cricket paddle (unless he's into that sort of thing, in which case it's like we told him the job wouldn't involve cross dressing and butt spanking).

So he looks confused and sad after getting the details, so he asks us:
'Well...um... are you hiring any consultants right now? You know, the people in the fishbowl?'
'No we are not.'
'Oh.'

So that was awesome. I hope that guy doesn't date like he interviews.

'Wow, so this is our first date, huh?'
'Yep, it sure is.'
'Hey, can I have sex with your sister?'
'Nope.'
'Oh.'

And like with most bad dates, we may not be seeing him again for a while.

(work.)

Nice tits, though.

Shaving cream on my toothbrush

You know you're too tired to function when you get out of the shower and squirt a huge glob of shaving cream onto your toothbrush.

There was that pause immediately after I did it, too. One where I realized what I had just done and then silently screamed '...fuck!' to myself.

It was like I woke up knowing I wouldn't have anything to say this morning, then my brain nudged me and said, 'Nah, don't worry about it, I've got your back.' Then five minutes later I'm standing there with shaving cream on my toothbrush thinking, 'I hate you, brain. I hate you with the fire of a thousand suns.'

Then my brain says, 'How can you hate me when all you're thinking about is what Bea Arthur looks like under all those old lady clothes...?'

Then I, realizing I'd just challenged my own brain to a fight I'd never win, unwillingly got a mental picture of Bea Arthur undressing as a look of horror spreads across face.

(work.)

My away messages can get weird when I'm tired, but there's not much I can do about that. My brain likes to anthropomorphize things.

Cell phone shopping with ass pennies

I'm going to Verizon to get a new phone. There will be some negotiating, which means I'll need confidence.

Good thing I put all those pennies in my ass this morning.

(new phone.)

I ended up getting the VX 8300, and thanks to this blog, I'm able to hack the crap out of it (read: "set video game songs as ringtones").

Well done, Verizon. I was able to shop at your store without getting things put in my butt (unless you count the pennies I put there earlier).

Not so much a super power as it is osteoporosis

I used to pride myself on my ability to fall asleep in 5 minutes from any given moment, but then I read an article that said I don't have good focus, but instead I'm just really sleep deprived. So I don't a superpower after all.

In the shower this morning I was thinking of someone else who has a negative condition but uses it for good.

Let's say a man has the ability to break any of his bones at the drop of a hat. Also, let's say his bones are evil. His radius and his ulna want to get together and rip off a bunch of credit card numbers from the internet, but this man just breaks his goddamn arm and saves the day. He's a hero.

Now imagine how he feels when he reads that he just has osteoporosis.

So... uh, the lesson here is to always drink milk, unless your bones are evil, in which case you'll want to break them later. Stay in school.

(work.)

The water cycle happens, landlord

The other day I was scraping ice off my car in the parking lot of my apartment when my landlord drove by. Now, my car has a leak in it, so sometimes the inside of all the windows get ice on them, too. So he sees me scraping ice with a door open and he yells out his window, 'What happen?'

When someone yells something out a car window at you, you've got about five syllables to make your point. After that, your response is too complicated and nobody listens to you.

With that said, I couldn't yell, 'My car has a leak and allows cold air into my car so I have to scrape ice off the inside.' He'd start driving away before I'm halfway done saying that.

'What happen?'
'My car has a leak and allows -'
'OK BYE!'
'Shit.'

Our exchange could have gone like this:

Landlord: 'What happen?'
Me: (I shrug and look at my car) 'The water cycle.'
Landlord: 'Oh, ok.'

(work.)

Google Analytics keyword WTF

Recently the site has seen about a tenfold increase in traffic coming in from people searching for stuff. Fortunately, I have Google Analytics, which can tell me exactly what people were searching for when they found this blog. Most of the searches involve away messages for Facebook, but some of the others...are a little off. Check this out:
Frisky ferret dildo?! Why, God, Why?!

I haven't used these words together before, but separately? Sure:
Frisky - "The printer is frisky, needs sex" - I accidentally told a guy that a printer was horny
Ferret - "AHHHHH FERRET CAGE!" - in reference to the Most Hated Smell pen project
Dildo -"a purple dildo dipped in paint" - the only writing utensil more embarrassing than a pink princess pen

But, to date, I've never used those words together. At least, not until now, which means one thing: I've got the "frisky ferret dildo" search locked down.

(not actually on AIM 'cause the computer's sick.)

Other interesting searches that got someone here:

• "funny boob away messages" - because tits are hilarious...?
• "how to write sweet messages for my girlfriend" - you found the wrong place, buddy
• "dreams of water while sleeping" - from the guy who just searched for "best laundry detergent to get pee out of bed sheets"
• "show your titts blog" - I have yet to post a picture of an exposed breast, but if someone were to offer one...

AIM convo: how do u know my name

Yesterday a stranger IMed me. His profile revealed his first and last name and he didn't seem to be aware of this, so I took advantage of the situation.

B P 1718: wat is your name
B P 1718: i hear about you from a freind
J aCkAs Skid: which friend? and what is your name, David?
B P 1718: how do u know my name
J aCkAs Skid: THE INTERNET!!!
B P 1718: ahhhhhhhh
B P 1718: SERIUSLY HOW THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW MY NAME
J aCkAs Skid: I had to call every Smith residence to get your first name. It was a lot of work
B P 1718: HOLY CRAP

And he was not kidding. Kid's kind of an idiot.

(bed.)

People ask me where I find these people, and the answer is that I don't. They find me. Usually they get my screen name from my old website. Back in 2004 when the website was in its hayday, I'd post AIM conversations, people would would read them and put me on their buddy list, then months, sometimes years later they'd send me instant messages wondering who I am because they'd forgotten. This often led to hilarity, or if I was feeling lazy, they just led to me sending Goatse.cx to people who may or may not be too young to drive. Whoops.

If I'm feeling ambitious, I'll post the rest of my conversation with him because it was pretty funny.

An awkward chat with Chachee

When I worked at a grocery store over the summer three years ago, I had trouble talking to my coworkers.

For example, one time Chachee (sic), an attractive married woman in her early 20s, was telling me about how she gave Bryce, an also-married coworker who shared some sexual tension with Chachee, a ride home.

'So Bryce was flirting with me as usual during the car ride, then when I dropped him off, I told him, 'I'm going to go home and have sex with my husband now!''
And I, being socially inept, responded to her story with, 'Poor guy.' Then realizing she may think I was saying her husband was unlucky, I added, 'Bryce, I mean. Not your husband. He gets to have sex with you.'

Awkward.

(work.)

Making chit chat with my coworkers at the grocery store was hard for me. I'm surprised I didn't say something like, "Bryce is the poor guy, I mean. You know, because he doesn't get to have sex with your husband."

Must-See TV, eh?

Tonight NBC said there was a Must-See episode of ER on tonight. I don't think that's a fair description of something. 'Must-See.' They're not even giving you an option, are they?

I can agree that sometimes heart medication is Must-Take and water is Must-Drink, but something being Must-See? I can't get behind that marketing campaign. I think we can get by without watching ER, at least until the doctors in that show start prescribing insulin.

I couldn't use that kind of language in other parts of my life. I couldn't walk up to my girlfriend and say, 'Hey, have you heard? NBC said my johnson is Must-Feel. Tonight at 10pm (9pm Central).'

(bed.)

I won't eat anything with googly eyes

The difference between vegetarians and vegans is that vegetarians don't eat meat for whatever reason, whereas vegans don't eat animal products for strictly moral reasons. What this means is that to be a vegan, you have to do a lot of research before you eat anything.

If you're a vegan and you accidentally eat a mint, and this mint is made of a type of gelatin in pig feet, then guess what? You're going to hell. Or...I don't know what you do, but you should be ashamed of yourself.

Usually the vegan diet comes down to, 'Did any part of this food come from something that had a face? If so, don't eat it.'

I'd like to get a bunch of vegetables together and put googly eyes on them, then put a sign up above them that says, 'What now, vegans?'

...though I'm sure their response would be something like:
'I'm not eating those.'
'Why's that, vegan? Can't eat vegetables now that they have a FACE?'
'No, you attached those googly eyes with glue, you ass.'

See, I thought googly eyes were self adhesive, but after an embarrassing amount of time spent researching googly eyes for sale online, I learned that glue is now the googly eye adhesive of choice.

You learn something new every day. However, nobody said it was going to be interesting.

(work.)

Renaming your maids for the trophies

This fictional conversation was in my head earlier. Just thought I'd share.

'You ever get the idea that you're supposed to be doing something else with your life?'
'Amy, you're talking to someone who likes writing but went into psychology. I hate psychology.'
'No, you hate people. There's a difference. Anyway, what I'm getting at is that when I was little, my music teacher wanted to send me to music school because she said I had a lovely voice, but my mom wouldn't let her. To this day I feel like I'm never going to do that. I could have been a great singer.'
'And now you're doomed to be a successful lawyer. It could be worse, trust me. Besides, you'll be using that voice in the court room to help put bad men in prison.'
'I'll never see any singing awards with my name on them. Not if I'm just a lawyer...'
'And that's fine. You'll have enough money to train one of your maids to sing. Then, when she's really good, you can legally change her name to yours. You'll have enough lawyering money to do that. You can rename people when you're rich. Then you'll finally get those singing trophies with your name on them.'

(bed.)

And if that doesn't work, you can always just buy the damn trophies. Nobody's going to see if you actually won them anyway.

Vegans and turducken

Yesterday at 6:54pm, a vegan sensed danger. He grabbed the arm of the other vegan on the bean bag next to him and looked into the distance.
'Something horrible is about to happen,' he said as a single tear rolled down his face.

'Turducken's done!' yelled Prashant, pulling from the oven a chicken inside a duck inside a turkey wrapped in bacon.

The other vegan's right arm went numb and the first vegan's nose starting bleeding. 'What's happening?' asked the first vegan.

'Everybody grab a slice!' yelled Prashant to his guests. 'Plenty of turducken for everybody! Oh, and there's sausage stuffing between each of the birds.'

Both vegans said nothing, because by now their heads had exploded.

(work.)

While Prashant happily served up the turducken like a good host, I couldn't help but feel like somewhere vegans knew what we were doing. Kind of like when the Death Star blew up Alderaan and Obi-Wan Kenobi said, "I felt a great disturbance in the Force, as if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced. I fear something terrible has happened."

Only this was different. Some vegans down the street winced when Prashant cut the turducken and said, "Something terrible is happening. A bunch of fatasses are eating three birds wrapped in a pig."

Turducken is Russianly stackable food

I'm about to eat turducken. That's a bird inside a bird inside a bird. If I didn't know better, I'd assume a dish with this many levels is Russian.

As Russianly stackable as turducken is, I'm guessing it's American. It probably happened like this:
'We're having a turkey for Thanksgiving. What else should we have?'
'Duck.'
'No, that wouldn't work. Our table's not big enough.'
'Put it in the turkey.'
'That's absurd.'
'Not as absurd as the chicken I want to put inside the duck.'
'Okay, funny man, what goes inside the chicken, then?'
'A smaller bird... but what's smaller than a chicken? Hey, how about Marshmallow Peeps?'
'I'd hate you if that didn't sound delicious.'

'Hey, looks like Henry's running out of ideas.'
'Yes. Yes he is.'

(Turducken.)

I've provided a visual aid to help everyone understand what a Turducken is:

Looks appetizing, huh?

If there's any time in your life to think you're a failure, it's while you're searching the internet for the very best picture of a Marshmallow Peep. I went through about 10 pages of Peep-related search pages all the while thinking, "I graduated from college and now I'm doing this?!"

Chewing tobacco: It's that good

Today I saw an ad for Grizzly Chewing Tobacco. It was just a picture of chewing tobacco with the words 'IT'S THAT GOOD,' under the Grizzly logo.

The problem is they aren't telling you what 'that' refers to. If they had a picture of a guy selling his house to buy some chewing tobacco, it's that good.

If there was another ad where a woman renounced her Mormon faith for Grizzly Bear Chewing Tobacco and then went to hell for its fresh taste, then yes, it's that good.

And finally:
A man rushes into a burning building, then seconds later emerges out a second story window clutching a newborn baby. He lands safely with a smooth tuck and roll action and the crowd of onlookers cheers for this anonymous hero.

Then he rips the baby's head off to reveal that its neck is filled with delicious Grizzly Bear Chewing Tobacco. A woman screams.

It's that good.

(turkey.)

Anybody else have ad ideas for the fine folks at Grizzly Chewing Tobacco?

(Bonus: Proof that this stupid tag line really exists)

I accidentally ate bugs

This next part's kind of gross, so don't read it within 30 minutes of eating food.

Yesterday I was eating Kashi cereal for dinner when toward the end of the bowl I noticed a couple of tiny black specks floating in the milk. I looked closer and then realized oh shit, those are bugs.

So, I thought, what do I do now? Quit eating the fucking cereal, obviously. But now do I throw up? I mean, just how many bugs did I eat without realizing it? Were they always in the food or did they climb in up off the table? Are they going to lay eggs?

Then I started thinking about how nutritious the bugs were to stop myself from throwing up. 'Some cultures eat them all the time, right? I think I read that in National Geographic.'
'Did you?' I thought back at myself. 'Did you really read that or did you make it up? Also they probably clean the bugs first, and they're most likely different bugs. Healthier bugs.'

So I, not sure if the bugs that may be in my stomach were even dead, just drank a beer really fast to supposedly kill them, but even then I wasn't sure if they weren't going to lay eggs.
Maybe pouring beer on bugs is like pouring water on a gremlin, ya know?

So I may be sick today, but I feel fine, at least until an army of bugs bursts out of my stomach.

(work.)

I thought about how bugs supposedly have a lot of protein in them, and how all that protein was good for me, and because of all the protein I should have no problem eating bugs that may have been crawling around in my cereal for weeks, because at least it's healthy.

But I don't even know if bugs have protein in them. I think I just assumed they did so I didn't feel sicker.

Wiitards

Whenever I tell someone that I own a Wii, more than half the time that's followed up by the other person asking me if I've broken my TV yet.

Let me set the record straight here:
If you break something expensive while playing the Wii, you're either a moron, a child, or you're drunk. If you're playing it right, you're flicking your wrist in different directions, not wildly flailing your arms around the room, endangering your friends, your family, and most importantly, your television.

In conclusion, the Wii is safe and fun, not a death machine. If you manage to injure yourself badly or break something expensive, you're what some people would call a 'Wiitard.'

There, I said it. The awful pun has been made.

I'm going to work now.

(work.)

They all suck at math

On New Year's Eve I went to the MGM Grand Casino in Detroit with Amy's family for an hour and a half of gambling.

When I first walked into the casino, I realized that everybody in it had something in common. From the young people losing at craps to the really, really old people losing at slots, they all had one thing in common: they all suck at math.

It didn't matter if these people were from Detroit or they drove in from the suburbs. Yes, they all shared that special bond of absolutely blowing at statistics and probability. Sure, they're all there to lose different amounts of money (no matter whether it's supposed to be for tuition or if their grandkids should inherit it), but at the end of the day, it's because they're all horrible with numbers.

Seriously, people. The casino doesn't stay in business because everybody's winning.

(work.)