When you weigh yourself, do you pretend you're a boxer? Whenever I weigh myself, which is usually after taking a dump and before a shower, I'm almost always in nothing but underwear (if anything at all). So I'll get on the scale, look down, and then look up into the bathroom mirror and put my arms up in a bicep flex, like a boxer posing for pictures after a weigh-in. I think it's almost a reflex at this point. You?
Ditto. Not only do I raise my arms after the weight is registered, but before I go to weigh myself, I do that boxer thing where they stutter step on their approach, like they're actually in the ring, circling an opponent. They kind of jog in place and throw little mini-jabs. It looks totally badass when Manny Pacquiao does this. I look like Christy Brown. The only problem is that I don't have a doctor's scale in my home. The doctor's scale adds that little extra touch of realism to all my pre-bout weigh-ins. There's one at my gym, but I can't raise my arms in victory there without everyone in the open area thinking I'm an asshole.
One plus to the doctor's scale: If you're losing weight, skipping down one of those 50 lb. increments feels fucking glorious. Like, I used to have to slide the big weight to 250 before I played roulette with the small weight. But now I only have to slide the big weight to 200, which totally makes me feel like I lost 50 pounds, even though I haven't.
In my house, I have this digital scale that weighs you down to the tenth of a pound. A lot of readers emailed in last week to extol the virtues of using such scales to weigh your poops. You step on the scale, you go to take a shit, and then you come back and weigh yourself again. One reader got to, like, 2.1 pounds. Not bad at all. I've now started to weigh EVERYTHING this way. I weigh my slippers. My slippers were 2 pounds. HOLY FUCK! My sweater was 1.2 pounds. My kid was 33.2 pounds. It's completely addictive and I can't stop weighing shit. I can't recommend it enough.
Stephen B. Awesome:
What percentage of dough do you eat prior to the cookie being baked?
Ten percent, but it's a fucking Herculean effort to keep the percentage that low. You and I know damn well we don't even have to bake the things if we don't want to. But I lack the balls to follow through with eating 100% dough.
My wife is always horrified when I eat raw cookie dough. "HOW COULD YOU? THERE ARE RAW EGGS IN THERE!" Well then, we need to put raw eggs in more shit around here, because raw eggs are a DELIGHT.
About a month a go, someone broke into my house while I was out at the pub. The police sent me a form to list the property that I'd lost. Here is a detail from that form.
If I'd lost anything actually valuable - my roommate's broken iPod doesn't count - this wouldn't be funny, but it is. Unless the cops who came somehow figured out how often I play NBA Live. Shit.
But that isn't your full name on the form. LOSER!
If you're like me you sneeze in pairs. Sometimes I try to sneeze as hard as possible just to avoid the second one but rarely succeed. As most humans, I appreciate someone saying, "Bless you/Geshundheit" after clearing my nose and acknowledge this with a "thank you". But isn't it awkward when you say, "Bless you" after the first sneeze only to have it followed up by ANOTHER sneeze. This is a lose-lose situation. If you say, "bless you" again, you are setting a dangerous precedent. Now what if the sneezing train continues? You're locked in. You HAVE to bless every sneeze that follows. Conversely, you don't say anything after the second sneeze. Then the sneezer is sitting there thinking, "What? Was that sneeze not good enough to be blessed?"
I'm worse. I sneeze in increments of four and five. Never less, never more. And I sneeze loud, despite my best efforts to muffle the sound. Sounds like my head is fucking blowing apart. I don't care who you are. There are times when a really loud sneeze from someone else will scare the shit out of you, and I tend to be someone who sneezes like that. When I worked in an office, everyone thought I was a complete fucking freakshow. They all said, "Bless you" on the second and third go rounds. By the fourth, they were actively telling me to shut the fuck up with my sneezing. And I was always like, I WOULD FUCKING STOP IF I COULD, DAMMIT.
And my wife is even WORSE. In the spring and fall, she gets allergy attacks, and will go on tears where she sneezes ten to twenty times in a row. And when she does that, I act EXACTLY like my old officemates did. I say Bless You a few times, and by the seventh time, I'm just like, YOU HAVE TO FUCKING LEAVE HERE. When she feels the sneeze attacks come on, I just say Bless You a dozen times right in a row before she's even done it, for her to use as she pleases. And then I leave.
I think a good guideline is saying Bless You for two sneezes. After that, the fucker is blessed enough.
So my one of my buddies has an interview next week to be a strip club DJ. He has asked our circle of friends to come up with a DJ name but we're all having trouble. His name is TJ so an obvious name would be DJ TJ but he thinks it's cheesy (said the strip club DJ).
Got any good strip club DJ names?
You need to ask a black person this question, because any answer I give you will be something like DJ Onion, of DJ Sex Grossman, or something a white person clearly came up with. It shouldn't even have the word DJ in it.
That's a real problem in movies, when there's a character who's a hip hop star, only the white screenwriter gave them their DJ handle, so they end up with a name like MC Frost, which is less a hip hop star's name than an 80-year-old white person's idea of what a hip hop star is named. White people lack the innovation to come up with decent hip hop names like Young Jeezy. That name wouldn't even cross a white person's mental radar. You can also tell a white person wrote the movie if hip hop is still referred to as rap.
So I was talking to this super religious chick I knew in high school, and she told me that she had never kissed a guy before and that she was saving her first kiss for the altar! Do you think there is any man out there, who is truly straight and truly a man, that would date a girl until marriage without so much as locking lips with her?
No. And she's full of shit. As soon as she hits 28 and is still alone because no sane man would bother with a girl too prude to even kiss, she'll give up the tongue. AND MORE.
I understand the saving your virginity until marriage for religious reasons. If that's your thing, so be it. But no kissing? Please. What if the guy has fucking cadaver breath?
Is it okay to re-use freezer bags?
Yes. THOSE FUCKERS AREN'T CHEAP!
Ever look at the inside of a blueberry? I have, and it is disgusting. I would rather wear a ski-mask made of peter king's used workout socks than have to do that again. That is all.
Yeah, they're kind of yellowish. Semi-puslike. And don't get me started on the organs of star fruit!
When it comes to fruit, there's nothing I find more repulsive than peeling an orange and discovering the inside of it is bone dry. No juice. No moisture. Just dry as shit segments with nothing but orange fibers. That horrifies me. Like opening a mummy. And all that work for NUTHIN'!
I use Barbasol (original formula). For some reason, gels do not provide proper protection for my face. I don't have a heavy beard or anything. I wonder what the ratio to gels vs cream users are.
I have to think that gels are more popular now, because there are more gels than foams in the shaving cream aisle. But here's the real question: Which product gives you more shaves for your money? Like, if you bought a 12 oz. can of Edge gel, and a 12 oz. can of Barbasol foam, which would last longer, provided you shaved on the same schedule with both? Which would give you more shaves? You would think, given that gel is concentrated, you could use LESS of it each time you shave, therefore giving you better value. BUT HOW DO YOU KNOW? WHAT ARE THE PEOPLE AS SC JOHNSON WAX HIDING?
I work in Boston. This sign recently appeared in front of the pretentious XV hotel's restaurant "Mooo." The sign speaks for itself.
God, I just want to key every Lexus I see now. And I want to burn that restaurant down to the ground. Mooo? Really? Lemme guess: It's a steakhouse.
/looks it up online
IT IS! HOLY SHIT! That's the worst fucking name for a steakhouse ever. Steakhouse should be named after men who are old or dead. Mooo? Who named that shithole? A three year old? "Welcome to my steakhouse. I call it, And Cow!"
I worked for the AAA Sacramento River Cats shooting the brat/hot dog cannon for a season and there is a little known fact about the food from the cannon. Since the gun is fired by air pressure, the dogs/brats have to be carefully wrapped and taped pregame to ensure they fire correctly and don't fly all over the place. Typically, by the time we fired our brats into the crowd around the 5th or 6th inning they had been sitting next to the cannon in the dirt floored equipment shed for about 4 hours. The team claimed you were allowed to take your brat to the concession stand and exchange it for a fresh one but no one ever knew this. I'd guess 99% of the time people ate lukewarm 4-hour-old equipment shed brats. That is pretty nasty but at least leads to great poop stories for future mailbags.
But 4 hours in the shed help give those sausages body and character, not unlike any number of Texas Tech football players. I'm sure those ancient brats harbor countless airborne bacteria after sitting around so long. And yet, if I caught one at a game, I'd still eat the shit out of it. I wouldn't even trade it in if I knew that was an option. I'd want to eat the brat I caught, strictly for the posterity. And the buttworms.
Have you noticed those Hibachi chefs all have basically the same routine? I've eaten at these places on east and west coasts, and for the most part they are all the same:
·Oil smiley face at start - check
·Clanging spatula and fork - check
·"Eggroll" - check
·Flip shrimp tail into hat – check
Is there a secret "Yankee will rove this trick" blog these guys trade ideas on?
But what did you expect? Ad libbing? This isn't Second City. Those guys are dealing with sizzling hot meats. You don't want them improvising, otherwise BOOM! Two thousand degree hunk of flank steak RIGHT IN YOUR FUCKING EYE. Also, no childless person should ever be seen in a Benihana. That goofy shit is for kids. There's no reason to pay $30 for well-done ass steak cooked tableside. Real adults should go to a proper steakhouse. Like Mooooooooobaaalalala in Chestnut Hill.
Which of the variety of Kellog's Frosted Mini-Wheat is your favorite? (and don't try and lie to the people and say you haven't had them all)
Strawberry Delight? Blueberry Muffin? Maple & Brown Sugar? Regular?!
Please state your fat case and or make a list.
The Blueberry ones disturb me. They have those Little Bites now. One is Chocolate flavored. The other is Honey Nut, I think. Those are solid because they have shitloads of frosting, and less of the wheat. The wheat is fucking horrible. Let's face it: Regardless of the flavor, by the end of any Mini Wheat bowl you're just sitting there, wondering when the fuck you can stop chewing. One reader also pointed out the Mini Wheats absorb so much milk, that it all but disappears by the end of the bowl. You're just left with the soggy mess of ass. And then you hit the toilet two hours later and shit your guts out.
I was reading some article about healthiest cereals and the #1 healthy cereal was plain Shredded Wheat. You know the ones: those fucking GIANT ones with no frosting. I would kill myself if I had to eat that every morning.
Do you ever wish you could "unknow" something. And I'm not talking about pushing the useless garbage in your brain out (like Curtis Enis' jersey number) in favor of something useful (your wife's birthday). I mean that disturbing picture of the 300-pound woman getting quad-penetrated that your friend sent you. Or the story about the kid that had sex with the cup of poop. I wish I could unsee or unread those things and did not have them floating around in my brain.
It's more a sight thing than a knowledge thing, like the quote from 8MM. I wish I could unsee Tubgirl. (NOTE: Do NOT search the term Tubgirl). That one really haunts me. I picture it in my head at least once a week, and it just makes me want to fucking die.
Pretty much any filmed rape scene would be nice to leave out of my cerebral cortex. I can't stand that. There's this old Wesley Snipes movie called Sugar Hill, and in the movie there's this guy played by Clarence Williams III (I think), and he walks into this room with a girl (played by Theresa Randle, I think), and he's really nice to her, and then he just starts beating the shit out of her, punching her in the face. Then he grabs her and is like, "Now you're gonna suck my dick." That horrified me. Why'd you have to be such a bastard, Clarence? If I see Clarence Williams III on the street, I'll punch him in the kidneys from behind and then run.
Same thing with that episode of "The Sopranos" where Joey Pants beats the stripper to death. The whole thing, from start to finish, bothered me to no end. I wish I'd never seen it, particularly the part where the girl is forced to blow a cop in the club. You just feel like shit when you see that.
And there are certain sex scenes in movies that make you completely disgusted with the idea of sexual congress forever. There's a sex scene in the movie Deconstructing Harry featuring Richard Benjamin plowing Julia Louis-Dreyfus while some blind grandma is in the room. It's fucking horrible. Never see that movie, no matter what Leitch tells you. It sucks. Virtually any serious sex scene involving an old man - Like Jeremy Irons in Damages - disturbs me to no end. I want no part of it. Remember Nick Nolte and Jennifer Lopez in U-Turn? Guhhhhhhhh.
Certain porn actors also creep the shit out of me. There was this one guy who used to work with Jenna Jameson a lot, and he was this middle-aged guy who looked like a shoe salesman. Scared me to death.
Does your wife annex the cupholder? I swear every time I try to put a drink in it (which is its stated function), it is filled with her sunglasses, chapstick, lipstick, receipts, cell phone, wallet, mints, and used tissues. Is this situation unique to me? Don't women carry around purses to store all that shit in? Once they get in the car, boom, all that shit goes in the cupholder.
I'm guilty of using the cupholder for those purposes as well, particularly sunglasses and coins. And the reason is because, when I get into the car, I have shit I want to throw into the car, but I can't put it in the passenger seat because it'll slide off the seat the second I make a turn. There are 5,000 pens under the passenger seat of my car. The cupholder is the best place for storing shit securely. Thus, hello there, fifty-day-old dry cleaning ticket!
Remember all those spank-bank worthy music videos on MTV, ones that would have some insanely hot video babe dancing around, only to have the moment ruined by shots of the damn band? Why didn't they just run the babe for the whole video? So that's my idea—the bands recut their videos to feature extended clips of just the chick dancing around, and put it all on one DVD. My theory is that this would be THE classic gift for any guy who's older than 25. Can you even imagine getting that? ALL those old videos you used to love, but with absolutely no cuts of skeezy guy musicians around to interrupt you? Holy shit, it would be like the golden age of music video spanking.
I would buy that DVD. Actually, more accurately, I would steal that DVD off of MegaUpload and then store it in a folder where family members couldn't access it. Those videos are special because, if you're my age, those are among the first things that went into your Spank Bank. And that makes the jerk more meaningful for some reason. Nothing like a little dash of nostalgia in your jerk. I think this is because, back when I was 12, my horniness was absolutely INSANE. I mean, I get horny now, but nothing like when I was 12. Horny at 12 is a whole other animal. It's like someone lit me on fucking fire. So those videos bring a little of that concentrated horniness back.
Again, it saddens me that rock videos don't have hot chicks dancing around in them. Rock n roll without the sex isn't rock and roll anymore. It's just Nickelback.
Side note: you should do a top five list for classic music videos that inspired the most furious jerking off—I don't know about all of them, but I'd have to say Billy Idol's "Cradle of Love" video is the all time best. That chick was completely ridiculous. I killed more potential humans than Xenu over that video.
That's probably the tops. Any ranking would include that video, "Here I Go Again," "Girlschool," "Hot For Teacher," and any number of other obvious selections. The question is… which ones did you miss? Are they any underrated ones you didn't give your full attention to? I think there were. Here's my favorite: "Rhythm of Love," by the Scorpions.
They're on an entire PLANET of hot pussy. That rules. And the "Tease Me Please Me" video also brings the boner heat:
Three more. "Summertime Girls" by Y&T. Watch at the beginning when a guy with a metal detector finds one of the band members buried in the sand. BECAUSE HE'S METAL.
"Don't Treat Me Bad," by Firehouse. The song is awful. The blonde is fucking flawless.
"Reason to Live," by Kiss. Featuring Playboy model Eloise Broady. Oof.
When you're showering & you drop anything, do you always think twice about bending down to pick it up? Maybe I've watched too many OZ episodes, but I never not think about the nefarious prison showers... You never know, Adibisi could be hiding somewhere in my bathroom.
Agreed. The percentage of someone barging into your shower at that moment and raping you are low. BUT THERE'S STILL A PERCENTAGE, ISN'T THERE?
How many times do you reuse towels before they need to be washed? I average about 2 - 3 times per, but still get hesitant every time I go to dry my face on what may or may not be the same area that thoroughly dried my asshole and balls just 24 hours prior. Even if it's when you're at your cleanest, it's still like bathroom roulette ... there's always about a 15 - 25% chance of rubbing your face in that area (not counting the rest of your body), and the odds go up with every reuse. I assume Howie Mandel uses a new towel every day.
I'm a huge fan of the two towel system after showering but my roommates give me shit for it. I use one towel to dry my legs/crotch/gooch area and a different towel to dry my face and hair. I cannot imagine using one towel and potentially drying my face with the same piece of cloth used to dry my hairy nuts/gooch. My roommates claim to section off their one towel into separate areas for nuts/face drying but I don't buy this method one bit.
You're probably right, but I've never had that anxiety over not wanting to touch the part of the towel that dried my ass to my face. I just took a shower. My ass is clean, in theory. (Despite my history of pooping in towels) What does it matter if the towel touched my gooch before it touched my face? You could serve a twelve-course meal on my nuts after a shower, I scrub so thoroughly.
To answer the first question, I'd never wash a towel if my wife weren't around. Sometimes, my wife will come up to me with one of my gym towels.
HER: You need to wash this.
HER: Smell it.
ME: I don't smell anything.
HER: Can't you smell the mildew? There's mildew all over this thing!
ME: Really? I don't smell anything. I swear. You need to stop smelling things so carefully.
HER: (walks away in disgust)
Am I alone in thinking one of the greatest pleasures is a shower while high? Often times, I'll deliberately take a few puffs just before taking a shower, and the result is euphoric.
Add a shower beer in there, and ECSTASY. I've been in houses before where they have the house's sound system also hooked up in the shower, so you can listen to music while you shower. Imagine an entire afternoon in your shower, high and drinking beers, rocking out like a fucking champ? God damn, I wanna be crazy rich. I would totally make the most of it.
But yeah, showering while high feels great. And in a really pure way. You're just high and showering, and you're just like HEY, I FEEL GREAT! IT'S GONNA BE A GREAT DAY! No irony at all.
RE: Urinal splashguards. First, the title of these things is bullshit. If you don't hit right in one of the holes, it looks like you showered with your fucking pants on. Why are these things in urinals? Is it because they know men love to pretend they are an archer in the Olympic games? Probably... but since my accuracy has declined, I LOATHE them.
Yeah, but I do like threading the needle with my stream. Sometimes, the splashback is WORSE when you make it through the urinal guard because some nefarious toilet operator put those little Dippin Dots underneath, and then the shit just goes flying everywhere. CHAOS THEORY IN ACTION.
Speaking of DVD warnings, have you noticed that Interpol had some sort of convention back on Sept. 8, 1977?
I know! That's when they sat down and wrote "Slow Hands".
My GF makes me buy dinner for my parents now. My parents like going to real restaurants and always offer to pay but I have to pick up the check and that shit ain't cheap. Every time its $100-$125 for the four of us.
That's insanity. You tell your girl to come correct, or else you and the rents will be taking her out to Miami Subs from now on.
I have a question: I've been dating my girlfriend for almost 5 years and for the past 3, she has been shoving this engaged/marriage shit down my throat. Most of my friends are married or engaged and when she finds that shit out it makes my day feel worse. So I've asked my parents the same question I'm asking you…WHAT ARE THE BENEFITS OF GETTING MARRIED?
Well, my towels get washed. Look, if you don't like the idea of getting married, DON'T DO IT. I get married because I was certain I loved my wife and that marrying her was the exact thing I wanted to do. Don't feel that way? Then don't do it. Don't do marriage half-assed. You'll be divorced and penniless within a decade.
Why do people get married? Because having a supportive and loving lifetime companion is pretty much the key to having a great life. That's why. I love being married and would rather eat out a rotten asshole than not be married right now.
And, again, my towels are washed for me. It's nice.
I saw a boat over a few summers named "Cirrhosis of the River." Good name, quasi-great name?
Did you ever hear of a "solar hit"? This is when you use a magnifying glass to light your bowl or bong (like you burn a leaf/ant when you were little). It's supposed to be the most pure way to smoke, no chemicals or other tastes, just pure weed. I like it, but more because but I like to think that God is lighting my weed, I mean how cool is that?
I have not done this. I asked resident pot expert KOGOD for his take on this.
It's not all that dissimilar from vaporizing with indirect heat from what I could tell. It's also a pain in the ass. Using a magnifying glass to direct a beam of light is one thing, doing it while high is another matter entirely. Tasty though
Yeah, sounds laborious.
I'd like to add shuffleboard to your list of kickass basement games. My buddy just built a house down the street from me, and has a large unfurnished basement.
I want to get about 20 of his friends to ante $50 to buy a good shuffleboard table.
Oh, the ones with the heavy metal pucks you slide? I love that. Although, think about it in comparison to air hockey. In air hockey, you also get a puck, and you can bash the living fuck out of it. Shuffleboard, you have to be careful. You have to slide it gently. Given my clumsiness and urge to break things while drunk, I'd still prefer air hockey. But fuck yeah, shuffleboard would be nice.
How did you propose? How do most people do this? Is it always the no warning, bended knee move? Or can you be less formal than that? I ask out of curiosity only, I'm single.
I had an ornate plan to propose to my wife, but then I got the ring and was so terrified of losing it or breaking it, that all I wanted to do was give it to her so she could assume liability for it. The time in between getting the ring and giving it to her is harrowing. All I could think about was losing it. So I just pulled over and proposed in the car. Since then, I've heard stories from far more smug couples about how the husband sprinkled a suite at the Four Seasons with rose petals, or how he proposed to her on top of Everest, or some bullshit like that. THINK YOUR PROPOSAL WAS SO MUCH BETTER THAN MINE, DO YOU, MOUNTAIN BOY? FUCK YOU.
I didn't even ask permission from her dad. I found out afterwards this is, like, a common thing. I thought we got rid of that in the 50's or something. No way I was going to ask the dad. What if he said no? That really happened to someone I knew once. Imagine getting the Heisman from the Dad. I'd fucking collapse.
So, on my last trip home to see my parents, I had some relatives in town. I was getting ready at my parents house when my Dad walked by while I was shaving and asked, "What the hell are you doing?" Now I thought this was a pretty stupid question til my Dad followed it up by asking, "You don't shave in the shower?" I had always shaved at the sink after getting out of the shower. Seemed like a pretty normal procedure to me. I didn't really think about it again until my girlfriend was shopping and bought me a shaving set. Gel, balm, face wash, and a free shower shaving mirror. Now I thought this was stupid and almost just threw it away, but figured what the hell...I'll give it a shot. And I have to say, I think I'm switching over to shaving in the shower. Seems like I get a better shave now. I was curious to see where the majority was. I assumed most shaved at the sink, but you never know.
Yeah, but you need adequate space in your shower for all the equipment: razor, mirror, cream, etc. That requires a rich person's shower. WITH A STEREO. AND WEED.
I just peeled a navel orange to eat at work (USING A KNIFE, GODDAMN IT) and I threw out the little mutant segments like I always do. I know perfectly well that they taste normal and I should eat them, but I've always chucked them ever since I found out that they're basically a mutant Siamese twin abortion orange stuck to the end of the bigger orange. Ugh. Does anybody else chuck those?
No, I eat those. I have no issue with them. I also switched over to peeling with a knife when my wife saw me peeling by hand the one day and was like, "What are you doing?" Then she grabbed a knife, cut off the top and bottom, made four slits down the sides, and took the peel right off. No orange fingers. No millimeter of pith still stuck to the fucking thing. I was an instant convert.
Sometimes when I poop with a magazine, book, etc. I'll finish pooping but stay on the pot until I'm done with the article or finished the chapter. How long is too long to remain on the throne when you've finished your business?
Until you get the numb legs. I'll happily sit there and read another article until the numb legs set in, and that's because I'm maximizing time away from having to handle the kids. I walk out of that shitter after fifteen minutes and my lady KNOWS I was milking the clock. No matter how much I try to overplay the size of the shit. I WASN'T READING! I WAS PUSHING OUT A FUCKING BEAST! I SWEAR! She knows better.
Ever wonder if women have spank banks? What do they masturbate to? Do they picture that sensitive guy with nice eyes at the Gap seducing them with flowers and poetry? Do they just set the rabbit loose and let their thoughts go? Do they fantasize about each other (HOT!)?
I was talking in some other mailbag a while back about it being cool to know which chicks have frigged themselves to you. And some guy wrote in with a response from his female co-worker that was like, "We do NOT do that. We don't have jack off to guys we know." Well then, what the hell do you picture while masturbating? The Anthropologie catalog? Your father being nice to you? I don't get it.
This is a private residence on Dilleys Road, just south of the Wisconsin border in IL. The name of the road certainly does not inspire in me thoughts of ancient Egypt …in fact, Dilleys road sounds pretty shitty to me, so maybe this makes some kind of sense.
Is it made of cheese? Because that would be fun.
Drew (not me):
What do you think would be more embarrassing for us as a society? 1: Clothing is banned worldwide, everyone has to walk around nude all day (let's just assume it's nice outside) but we still have our senses of shame and decency. 2: Whenever you masturbated thinking about somebody, that person would be immediately alerted in their head, would be able to picture you masturbating, and could see what you were masturbating to about them. I have to go with the second choice. Anarchy within the year at least...
Agreed. You'd get used to everyone being naked after a while. Even public boners. You'd get used to public boners if they just became this regular thing. Even if you got one yourself, you can always fool women by telling them it's a random thing you can't control (often true). The second thing would destroy society as we know it.
I have a recurring dream where I'm somewhere out in public, and I'm naked. But no one else is. And I start whacking it in front of everyone, only I don't realize it until I'm mid-way through, and then everyone's seen me doing it, and they're like, "Why are you whacking it in public?" Then I feel terribly embarrassed. Then I wake up in paralyzing fear. I may have issues.
When I was a freshman in college all of our dorm rooms had bunk beds that could be separated into two different beds. When doing this, each bed post had a hole that was used for connecting to the other bed. Once my bed became free standing I immediately started putting boogers into this hole at the beginning of the year. At the end of the year I checked with a flashlight to see how full I got it. The thing was about 6-8 inches deep, and I nearly filled the entire thing up. Here's hoping you broaden your booger deposit options.
We had bunk beds in college, but I never separated them because we wanted to maximize the open space. Bad move. There's nothing worse than being on the bottom bunk in college, and you hear sounds coming from the top bunk in the middle of the night, and you just KNOW your roommate is jacking it. But you don't want him to know you know, so you just freeze the fuck up until he's finally done. That's why I always took the top bunk.
Best movie to see in a black theater: Exit Wounds starring DMX and Steven Seagal. 2001. I was there. Fact.
I gotta think 2012 was a solid choice as well. Anything with white people in trouble. "THE FUCK YOU GONNA DO NOW? YOU GONNA DROP YOUR PISTOL WHEN YOU BUST IN THE WINDOW! THAT'S YOUR ASS, I GUESS!"
What is your favorite canned dough product?
I think first is the crescent roll. Then the Grands cinnamon roll - the type that only has five in a can, not the pussy kind that has 8 in a can.
It is definitely close, but those crescent rolls are like heaven.
Fuck that. It has to be the cinnamon rolls, with those little tectonic plates of cinnamon sugar butter on top and the giant tub of icing on the end. As I said before, when the tube pops, so does mine. Those things are out of control, they're so good.
Pillsbury also makes a tube of bread you can bake right up. It's like a baguette. Out of the oven, it is insanely good. But after a day, it becomes dogshit. It can't be salvaged, not even as bread crumbs. That can't be a good sign for what it contains.
I clean my ears all the time, and I get pretty pumped when I pull the cotton swab out and see a bunch of yellow/orange/red gunky ear wax. The problem is I do it so often that I really don't get the big haul from letting it accumulate. So sometimes I have to refrain and hold out on cleaning my ears just for the extra satisfaction. Am I the only one who feels this way about ear wax?
Agreed. I love digging out a solid clump. Makes me feel like I have productive ears. And I really dig in there to get at it. Half the time, I go too far and hit something that hurts like hell, yet I go right back to doing it, because I'm retarded. I know you aren't supposed to Q-Tip your ears, because that supposedly pushes the wax back. But fuck that. It's far too satisfying to give up.
Also, whenever I Q-Tip my ears, my mouth opens involuntarily. No clue why. I have to keep it open until the Q Tip is out. The wife thinks it's the weirdest thing ever.
I shouldn't feel bad or pathetic about buying pot from my girlfriend's younger brother, correct? FYI, I'm a 24-year-old college graduate and he's a 17-year-old high school junior.
No. Do not feel bad. You have to buy pot where you have to buy it. I know it's illegal, but there's nothing worse than wanting pot and not being able to find a dealer. AREN'T WE SUPPOSED TO HAVE A DRUG PROBLEM IN THIS COUNTRY? They can't make California pot vending machines national fast enough.
Speaking of Empire Carpet, is there a more ubiquitous phone number in the country than that fucking "588-2300, EMPIIIIIIIIIRE!"? Until the day I die I will never forget that fucking number.
And I spent time growing up in Chicago, so the song has followed my ass around for the duration of my life. That and the Mennen sting at the end of every old Speed Stick commercial.
Pissing in the sink. Yes or no? For reasons I've yet to pinpoint, I thoroughly enjoy pissing in any and all sinks. I happen to be above average in height so logistically it works well for me. I don't think it's the forbidden fruit idea of it that lures me back time and again. If that were the case, I'd simply piss in my roommate's trashcan or something. The proximity of the sink bottom to the source is such that the velocity of stream impact is almost inspirational.
I concur. You can also rest your balls on the cool porcelain, which feels great. There's also very little splashback because the distance between your dick and the landing pad is so small. If it were acceptable, I'd far prefer to piss in the sink every time. They should have a bar where all the urinals are shaped like sinks and placed at sink height. Sometimes, I'll piss, only I didn't get it all out, and there's a little bit that's about to dribble out, so I have to clamp my dick quickly and then go release it somewhere. And the best place to do that? You guessed it.
RE: Cup a Soooouupp!!! My college roommate introduced me to a move like this, only we called it the Fart Ninja. You'd get a good one brewed up, fart into your hand and throw it into their face as described by the other guy. When doing it you were supposed to say "Ninja… Vanish!", and while they're being blinded by your noxious gift to the face, you get the fuck out of there like a ninja.
One of my pet peeves is when an athlete's jersey says "JR" on the back as if it were part of his last name. For example: St. John's University's Anthony Mason, Jr., whose jersey reads "MASON JR".
Do the players and programs not understand that the JR relates to the first name and not the last name? If Anthony Mason, Jr. had a brother named, say, Shmanthony, shouldn't his jersey have the same name as Anthony's on the back?
As it so happens, Anthony Mason DOES have a brother named Shmanthony. He also has a brother named Bananafannafofanthony.
Is there any feasible way to get your wife to try something you saw in porn, without alerting her to the fact that you first saw it in porn?
Not really. Because you have to have gotten it from SOMEWHERE, and where else would it have come from? "Baby, if you could, I'd like to bang you on this exercise bike." She's not dumb. No way you could have figured that out yourself. BUT I READ ABOUT IT IN FHM! I SWEAR!
You ever have a shituation at work where you take a dump, then as you're washing your hands a friend of yours comes in and then goes right into the stall you just defiled with your pudding cannon?
It's even worse at a dinner party, or somewhere more formal. You come out after taking a dump, someone is waiting there, and there's no doubt about what you just did, and the next person in just has to go in there and fucking TAKE IT. Kind of awesome, actually.
You ever think about what dancing must look like to deaf people? They must sit there thinking about how retarded everyone is.
Depends on who's dancing. Something tells me they'd see the "Cradle of Love" girl dancing and immediately be on board.
I can not stand it when, at the grocery store or the gas station or wherever (anywhere with a cashier), the cashier gives me my change in the following order: bills, coins. Fuck. That. Noise. The coins slide right off!
Indeed they do. There's a nice depression in your outstretched palm to house that change. It should be taken advantage of.
I go to Safeway for food sometimes, and they have this thing where the change comes out of a change dispenser at the end of the aisle. Only the clerk NEVER tells me that's where the change is coming out. So I'll sit there for a good fifteen minutes with the bills in my hand, waiting for the cashier to give me the change on top, and then they'll finally turn to me and gesture to the change dish at the end of the counter. Well HOW WAS I TO KNOW, SAFEWAY MAN?!
The key to shaving is using oil before you put the shaving cream on. Its un-fucking real. It prevents razor burn and you can basically beat the shit out of your face with the razor. I use stuff from The Art of Shaving. They sell brushes and all sorts of other stuff. I have no idea what any of it does, but it makes me feel like a dude from the 1920s.
Is there anything worse than getting a new pair of jeans? It takes weeks to make them fit comfortably.
Agreed. Those first few weeks are agony. Like wearing fucking cardboard. Same as if you wash them. Washing jeans resets them, so they're often just as liable to dig into my fat waist than if they had been new. I never buy jeans. And I never wash them. You don't want to smell my jeans.
Wanted to spread the word on Toothpick.
The beauty of the game is equal parts simplicity and potential violence. A toothpick is placed at the bottom of the pool, at its deepest point. The diver then gets out and joins a group of an unlimited number of people in encircling the pool, waiting for the toothpick to slowly rise from the depths. When someone sees, or thinks they see, the toothpick, they yell "Toothpick!" and jump at it. This sounds somewhat lame even as I type it, but I assure you that there is never a time when only one person sees the toothpick. Usually 2-4 people see it at the same time, and the mid-air collisions are legendary. The winner is whoever comes out of the mass of humanity holding the toothpick. As the esteemed Mr Evans would say: Blood? You bet! Bruises? All over! Potential for drowning? Omnipresent!
Seriously, try having a couple beers and then grab a toothpick and head for the pool. You will not regret it.
Oh, I like the sound of that. Nothing beats fighting in a pool. SEXAY!