Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Accidental Stealing

I am too old for shoplifting I think, and this makes me sad. Because stealing is fun! Everyone went through a klepto phase when they were teenagers, right? I got caught when I was 18 though (not my fault) and it broke me of that habit real quick.

These days I am more in the business of importing things rather than exporting. "Things" being flasks, into places like bars, baseball games, churches, work, etc. But sometimes after a night out, I manage to wake up with a mysterious toy or piece of furniture or boyfriend. I don't really consider it "stealing" since it's rare I remember doing it. Here are some greatest hits.

Sean Lennon's Parka. This wasn't for keepsies because we swapped back eventually. But in general, I have a huge problem taking coats home from bars that are not my own.

A beer cozy that says "Two In The Pink One In The Stink." A great find, not so much fun when your Dad comes over and sees it in the cabinet while looking for a glass and says, "Stink, pink, what's that mean?"

An ottoman from a bar. Stealing furniture is always tricky and from my experience, bars don't really like it so much when you attempt this. I didn't do the actual stealing, but fuck if I can't create one hell of a diversion.

The boyfriend thing only kinda happened one time. I ended up with a shaved head, he slept with a 40 year old in exchange for an air conditioner. And then I moved out before it was even hot enough to use it. Karma, you bitch.

Monday, June 29, 2009

Oh, Foreigners.

Maybe you ride your bikes on the sidewalk, and usually in the wrong direction. Maybe the Chinese chefs should stay out of the Mexican taco kitchens. And maybe I have thrown my phone at the wall on more than one occasion while trying to order takeout.

But God Bless foreigners and their amazing Craigslist postings. Every now & then, while trolling the list for bikes, jobs, or casual encounters, I will stumble across a post like the one below that just makes me want to march them to the nearest bakery and buy them a big old American flag cookie.
So they don't get too hungry while waiting to be deported, as the immigration department will be our next stop.

Kidding! Nothing a little knockoff Louis Vuitton can't fix.


Phrases I Hate. And Love!

Some I hate:

"Working Hard Or Hardly Working." Why do people continue to use this phrase? At this point you would think that it is widely known that this is neither funny nor witty, yet people ask me this all the damn time. They always act like they just made it up too and the people who say this usually work in your office so you have to do that awkward half smile/chuckle thing when in your head you're thinking "Kill yourself."

"Clusterfuck."
I'm not sure why this word annoys me so much, but it makes me want to punch walls or puppies or something. This dude I used to date always said it. That and things like "let's touch base." I'm not saying that's why we broke up. I'm just saying.

"Uber" Anything.
Who are you, a robot German art fag from the future?

And I love:

"You Got It Dude." If you don't get this classic Full House reference, it's probably best that we never speak again.

"See You Next Tuesday."
Calling people cunts is funny. I like that word so much that an ex boif bought me a necklace with "Cunt" engraved on it. At least that's the only logical explanation I can think of for that present.

"Screwed The Pooch" or "Shit The Bed."
These are interchangeable and hilarious. I have had serious discussions with my friend Chris about which one's funnier and I think it's best left as separate, but equal.

Friday, June 26, 2009

Getting Locked Out

I get locked out of my apartment like it's my job. Also really strange hobo things happen to me when I get locked out. One time I ended up passing out in my hallway, but that's a whole nother story. Last night my friend Emily had taken my keys (the little sneak) and of course I didn't realize this until I was outside my door at 3am. Then a funny thing happened.

I turned around and saw a dude walking by that works at my favorite veggie sammie shop. I promptly yelled out "Hey do you work at 'Snice?" and of course he did and we proceeded to have a conversation.

It was interesting, to say the least. I don't know what you guys talk about with strangers in front of your door at 3am on a Friday morning, but somehow I managed to get out his life story in about 5 minutes. Then the conversation took a turn for the strange when he started talking about going to Pride this weekend and then I swear I heard something along the lines of "I'm going with my church."

Long story short, I totally kissed an ambiguously gay religious nut who looks exactly like Bill "The Butcher." Yup.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Being Sleazy Is Easy

I get called sleazy a lot, which after awhile, I got tired of denying and just decided to roll with it because I secretly think it's pretty funny. I like to credit this to my attire as opposed to my actions, but eh, it's more likely a combo of the two.

So here are some of my sleazy essentials:

Leather Jacket.
I don't mean like a fancy one from Wilson's. I'm talking about a beat to shit one where the lining is held together by safety pins (or doesn't even have one anymore) and is soft like butter. Pleather is an equally sleazy option. I have one of each.

Dirty White Jeans. Wearing white jeans ups my general sleaziness by about 80%. Mine are so tight I can barely ride my bike in them and the more washings the jeans get, the more camel toe Jenny gets, so their trips to the laundromat are few and far between.

Jumpers. These are undercover sleazy because at first glance, they seem harmless. One of my (many) one-piecers is flower print and so 90's if it cut you, you would bleed Roseanne. I put it on before going out and Shanon's response was, "Oh no, you're gonna get fucked up tonight." Maybe it's because they are so similar to outfits that superheroes wear (leotards) but I feel like I am fucking invincible when I throw one of these on.

Cut-off Jean Shorts. Also preferably worn dirty. This is a tricky one, you don't want to go too short or you'll cross into tramp-stamp city, but if they're too long you will most likely be mistaken for your friendly lesbian bike shop employee.

Sunglasses.
This is a given. I have a gold sunglass chain that I purchased at a fleamarket in Florida to really seal the deal.

There's A Little Roseanne In All Of Us

Roseanne is probs my favorite show ever. I find that I can relate to each character, and yes I'm unemployed and spending my days watching Roseanne.

Becky - Huge twat who hated her mother and loved bad boys. This could basically be my bi-line.

Darlene - Sarcastic as fuck, went through that depressed phase when she only wore black and fell in love with a total weirdo loser who she then made those sexy zombie comics with. She was so rad! I totally wanted to be her when I was a kid (minus the underlying lessie vibe).

David - Weirdo loser mentioned above. David was totally dependent on his non-biological sugar family, the Conners. I too have such a family.

Jackie - She was pretty pathetic most of the time but I can still relate to her cause she was a huge slut who loved to wear lots of Pendleton. I like me some Native American prints.

DJ - This one's a bit tricky but I just watched the episode when they caught him masturbating constantly. I'm not a horny 12 year old boy but I'm definitely a horndog (see above).

Dan - Loved to cook chili, play poker, drink beer and ride motorcycles. If I were a dude I'd be into all of those things, and fuck if I don't love beer. He also beat the shit out of Jackie's man, Fisher, when he slapped her around. I would totally stick up for my ladies if some dude ever did that to them.

Mark - What a sexy smartass, huh? We got a lot in common.

Roseanne - There are just too many comparisons with this one (minus the fatness). Her favorite holiday was Halloween, Thanksgiving always ended in her screaming at her family, she loved to meddle and boss everyone around and she sure as hell never took shit from anyone. She also opened that loose meat sandwich shop and goddamit I love sandwiches.

Mo' Fights

At the bar/dance party/cast of Fame reunion last night, there was some drama going down with the gheyz. Shanon and I were lucky enough to witness this, along with two dudes wearing short-shorts and vests with no shirts underneath.

The thing about gay boy "fights" is that they're not really fights. I have never seen an actual punch thrown. Lesbians will pull hair, spit and claw a dyke's eyes out, while gays will make a bitchy comment about an outfit and stand in an opposite corner smoking a cigarette with their requisite hag.

The result of the fight last night was one gay cried and left with his friends and the other one ordered a drink and zzzzzzzzzzzzz. I just bored myself to sleep with that story. If I want some drama with no results, I will watch The Hills or Andrew try to pick up straight boys.

So hey gays, in return for escorting you to the Tyra Show and to Xanadu on Broadway and doing poppers with you while watching The Real Housewives of NJ Reunion (okay that last one's more for me) why don't we take the crotch punch level up a notch and make these throwdowns a little more interesting. It will probably result in sex for you guys anyway.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Boners of the Day

The Maccabees. Holy fuck this is the dreamiest band. I would bone down with all of them separately or together if they wanted even though I'm not really into orgies. And they're British! I mean, shit, I saw them play last night and wanted to rush the stage naked.



Benno Furmann. This German actor is such a sweet piece of tail. I was watching this movie he's in with Franka Potente, "The Princess and the Warrior," which is seriously the most bizarre fucking movie I've ever seen, but I'll watch it over and over cause he's so slammin in it! He's like a non-rapey Simon Rex.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Prison Barter, Time For A Comeback

A few weeks ago, I traded Shanon a pack of cigarettes for a pair of boots she bought, a transaction much like one that might occur in prison. (I later discovered said boots have a "gold sheen", hence Shanon not wanting them and tricking me by taking advantage of my semi-drunkenness and her apartment's dim lighting. If we were really playing by prison rules, she would get the shanking of a lifetime.)

But that is neither here nor there. Bartering is a good way to get stuff when you don't have monies and my friends are nothing if not a bunch of poors, so it makes sense to implement this system. Things prisoners barter for are things I want here on the "outside" too; cigarettes, booze, drugs, sex, protection, extra food, porn, etc. Any disputes will be settled in Full Metal Jacket fashion - bar of soap in sock fights (so as not to leave bruises). The amount of money we would all save on ATM fees alone would be enough to secede and start our own Utopian society. Or at least get the makings of a solid crack den in the works.

The Room

My friend Mike introduced me to this movie last night and I can't decide if this was the best or the worst two hours I have ever spent in my life. Either way, I am totally fine with it.

We started watching it and I got so confused that I had to stop and think back about what I did all day to make sure I wasn't high because that's how stoned this shit made me feel.

Apparently this movie was directed, produced and written by Tommy Wiseau, whose acting skills are topped only by his accent, best described as Schwarzenegger after surviving a stroke. Every line he says makes me want to repeat it out loud immediately. I can see why this has become a cult classic, the acting in general is as horrifying as the sex scenes that after watching, I'm pretty sure have made me sterile.

Here is a taste of the outstanding dialogue:

Mark: How was work today?
Johnny: Oh pretty good. We got a new client... at the bank. We make a lot of money.
Mark: What client?
Johnny: I can not tell you, its confidential.
Mark: Oh come on. Why not?
Johnny: No I can't. Anyway, how is your sex life?

If there is one thing you do with your day, make it watching this trailer.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Fuckin' Trucks

So I noticed we had a new commentor on my post about food trucks. I decided to send them an email in hopes that the superstar employee who came up with that stealth marketing idea gets a raise:

I am so glad you chose to advertise your trucks on our blog. As your hours of research must have shown you, our blog is the perfect marketing opportunity and a great way for you to reach your target audience. It's so funny because just the other night I was saying to my friend, "man, do you think anyone ever invented a truck with a ladder BUILT IN?? I would pay hundreds, no hundred THOUSANDS for one of those." It would be so good to have in NYC, think of all the people we could pee off it onto and the water balloons we could throw. And all this time I have been breaking into penthouses using fire escapes like a jerk. I'm sure parking will be a snap, after all I did pass my license exam on the third try. When I read your comment and checked out your site, I feel like my prayers were answered, I guess all my good deeds like sleeping with homeless people and my temporary hiatus from robbing old folk has paid off! This is making me think I should stop stealing money from Unicef and punching babies too. Wow, maybe you should consider re-naming your site Magical Jesus Trucks because my world has officially been rocked. I am thinking my offer price should be about $200,567.89, how does that sound? If it is too low, I can always dip into my Grandpa's heart transplant fund, I think he would agree that this is a far better investment. I am eagerly awaiting your response.
Born again in the eyes of Jesus trucks,
Jenny

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Funny Photos of the Day. You're Welcome.



Brandon Sexton III. Schwing.

He always plays dudes that are kind of fuck-ups, have Dads that left for a pack of smokes and never came back and come from the wrong side of the tracks, which is prime panty-dropping material. Wait, is he Nelson from the Simpsons?

The first time I was introduced to BS3 was in Empire Records ("My name's not FUCKING WARREN!") and I fell in love. He is smokin' hot and we shared the same interests (shoplifting).

Next came Welcome To The Dollhouse and holy crap. This might explain why I pretend to not like getting busy with dudes on their grimy twin mattresses with no sheets on them but I secretly love it.

He was about oh, 15 or so when he did these movies, but I am not a pedofile for wanting to bone him because when he first showed up on my lay-dar I was about 13 at the time so it works out, you see.

If my calculations are correct, he was legal by the time he made Pecker, which is pretty much a combination of the first two movies, making it my favorite.

I have actually run into BS3 twice in the city and both times he left before I could throw back enough "courage juice" to talk to him. Fingers crossed that the third time will be a charm and I will be drunk enough to call him a retard in hopes that he will say those magic words to me:
"Yo Weiner, you better get ready, 'cause at three o' clock today, I'm gonna RAPE you."

Is It Possible to Punch Rain in the Nuts?

Because if yes, then I'm gonna fucking scissor kick this weather in the testies so hard... I can never think of funny things to write when I'm miserable so here's some music. The Fresh & Onlys and Girls are both from mah hometown so love it.

The Fresh & Onlys - Peacock and Wing (mp3)
Girls - Lust For Life (mp3)
Casiotone For The Painfully Alone - Old Panda Days (mp3)
A.C. Newman - Take On Me (A-Ha cover, mp3)

...also if it's possible to make sexy times with a song then I would totally get busy with AC Newman's A-Ha cover. Solid.

Style Flashback (aka I Miss the 80s)

Call me crazy, but I miss this totally high-maintenance drag queen look from the 80s. Rufio had it locked down and so did the Goblin King. I wanted to bone these guys all sorts of ways when I was... um... 10? I guess I was a mini horn-dog back in the day.

The only man who has the kugels (as Bruno would say) to pull this off nowadays is Russell Brand. Me rikee.



Wednesday, June 17, 2009

I Wish The Bible Was More Like WWF

I would be way more into religion & stuff if all the characters in the bible were professional wrestlers. The church would make a great arena and Jesus could do his water into wine thingie so we're looking at pure profit here. Just think about how good the players would be:

Jesus. The original Ultimate Warrior. He would have all kinds of crazy moves. The fans would be all "Give him the cross! Put him in the cross!" Plus he's usually half naked anyways, and wears a crown of thorns that doubles as a sweet weapon. And just when you think he's down for the count ..."I don't believe it folks ... HE'S RESURRECTED!!!"

Mary Magdalene. She would be the rounds chick. You know she must have a bangin' body under all them robes if even God wanted to knock her up (and had Joe take the fall).

Joseph. Referee. He's kind of a snooze.

Stone Cold Moses. Ten commandment slabs are weapon of choice, would break over combatant's heads. His entrance would be awesome, he could part the crowd like the red sea.

The Awesome Apostles. A twelve man tag team.

Judas. Uh oh. He would pull all kinds of sneaky shit and fight dirty.

Nasty Noah. Animals that attack opponents in pairs. They would be kept on an ark without food so they're extra bloodthirsty and fighty when they get into the ring. A new species would be featured every match so people would be battling anteaters and giraffes and penguins and shit.

David & Goliath. Epic grudge. These dudes have cage match written all over them.

God. Would be the announcer. That booming voice was MADE for pumping up the crowd and starting/settling grudges. He has the final say and if a fan gets too drunk, being struck down with a lightning bolt will do the trick.

The Andrew Phenomenon

Another interesting tid-bit from last night was that Jenny and I encountered not one but TWO boys whose sexual-orientation confused the shit out of us. I'm dubbing this the Andrew Phenomenon cause our most favorite homo, Andrew, is one of the most ambiguously gay dudes on the planet. So much so, in fact, that I tried to make out with him the first night we hung out over 8 years ago.

After giving it much thought, I've decided that the AP gay comes in several forms which I think I've narrowed down:

The quiet Asian man. Usually this guy will have some sort of sweeping bangs haircut and is almost always wearing the most boring clothes ever (blazer, anyone?). In general I have trouble telling if an Asian's gay or straight unless they're bursting into pink flames and riding unicorns (aka Carl from Father of the Bride or this guy). Fuck I even have trouble telling the difference between an Asian tranny and an Asian lady.

The jock. Let's get real, here. If a dude's wearing dunks, a baseball hat and some sort of ironic t-shirt, I will think he's straight unless he opens his mouth and proves otherwise with his "gay-speak." Andrew falls under this category.

The tiny dude with tattoos. For some reason I almost always assume that all tiny bad boys are power bottoms. The one's that aren't usually like tall women anyhow, which is where my attraction to short fellas comes in. Wait, did I just call myself a gay man?

The drunk guy who only talks to his bros. Jenny has a hard time believing that any man who's wasted and would rather talk to his buddy than to her is straight. I'm afraid I have to agree with this. Even if you don't have the healthy libido of Jenny or myself, any drunk lady or gent can attest to the fact that there comes a certain point in the night when you only have one thing on your mind - pussy.

Foreigners (non-Asian). Accents throw my gaydar way off. For almost the entire last season of Top Chef I thought Fabio was way gay until he mentioned he was married. I mean, whaaaaaaa? That's just not right. Plus most foreigners (I'm talking South Americans, Europeans and Russians, here) have the craziest fashion sense. Like those jeans with the fake dust spots on the ass. In my opinion that shit screams, "anal penetration, enter here" but maybe that's just me.

Musicians and Their Crazy Bitches

Last night Jenny and I ventured to Bushwick for a party and ended up talking for a little while to this band I know vaguely from SF. The guys in said band are super friendly but the drummer had the bitchiest cootch for a girlfriend I've ever met. She clung to him the entire time and refused to acknowledge our presence. I think she might've even put a voodoo curse on me cause this morning I was so hungover I almost puked while riding over the Williamsburg bridge.

But I digress... This got me thinking about musicians' girlfriends and how some of them are major twats. Here's a list of some notorious ones.

Bijou Phillips - This chick will totally cut you if you come near her man (who used to be Sean Lennon but is now Danny Masturbator or whatever his name is). For reals, Jenny had a run in with Sean once and I feared for her eyes, lest Bijou should claw them out.


Gwyneth Paltrow - First of all, it pisses me off that she spells her name like that. What is this, Victorian-era England? And look at Chris Martin! He's too hot not to sleep with other chicks. I'd also imagine that it's pretty hard to get a boner when your girlfriend is a total nutso. I'll never understand how these two managed to have kids.


Yoko Ono - I should've put her first cause this lady is the founder and mayor of crazy-town musicians' girlfriends. She kind of reminds me of that psycho-bitch Gogo from Kill Bill. You know, the one with the awesome chain mace?


Drew Barrymore - I wouldn't think that she'd kill you in your sleep or anything like that, but Drew would probably spike your drink with some bad acid and then banish you to her make-believe land of fairies and dragons for talking to her man.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Food Tastes Better Served From Trucks

I have yet to meet a food handed to me through the window of a truck I didn't like. We all know ice cream is like the Zeus of truck foods and look how well that's panned out, so it makes sense that other foods should be just as delicious.

Here are some of my NYC truck food picks:

Tacos. This one's in the backyard of one of my most favorite bars. The tacos are great and you only get kicked out for doing drugs/making out behind it 50% of the time, which is good odds to me.

Treats Truck.
Everything on here is crazy tasty. I get a cookie boner just from looking at their menu.

Coffee. Okay, now I know huge corporations are evil and bla bla bla, but really, aren't a bunch of hemp-humping losers just as bad? At least when you steal from Starbucks you don't feel guilty about it.

Wait, why did I link to these guys. Oh yeah, because they chose to park their truck in between the two Starbucks at Astor Place. That way people can buy good coffee from them, hang around outside and smoke a cigarette, then go use the bathroom at Starbucks without having to buy anything. Therefore, you get good coffee and get one over on the man, all by 9am.

Cupcakes. I really was not a fan of the whole "cupcake trend" that went down a few years ago. Not because I don't like cupcakes, but because every time I ate one it would make me think of Sex & The City which in turn made me angry because that show makes me feel ghey about doing a whole bunch of things I like to do in New York; eat brunch, eat cupcakes and boff Baryshnikov.
(Okay, that last one isn't entirely true, the closest I have come is the straight half of a pop duo from Denmark)

So. As I was saying, now I am all for cupcakes since I got my revenge on SATC The Movie by getting really drunk in the theater and ruining it for everyone around me. I mean ... just go get a cupcake from this truck.

I am trying to figure out how to get a boot put on it right now so it never leaves the block my office is on.

Monday, June 15, 2009

I Am Mad At McDonald's

Specifically for tricking me into buying not one, but TWO of their crappy new McCafe bullshits with a bogo coupon. It just made us double regret choosing them over Starbucks, as it tastes like "garbage water" (according to Bennie) and also takes super long to make, hence defeating the point of going to McD's in the first place.

I am even more mad now because I just bought some of the best mac and cheese I have ever had in my life and eating it is torture but I can't stop because it's that good. And now I need a new fork cause the cat licked mine while I was resting my tumbo. Fuck.

So nice work McDonald's, you succeeded at wasting my time, not making me un-sleepy and ruining two out of three meals. If I am not over this by breakfast tomorrow, I think revenge will be best served stink-bomb style.

This advertisement is dumb since the coffee total was $3.89.

Bill Callahan

Ok I'm just gonna go right out and say it. I'd like Bill Callahan to do dirty things to me. His music is melancholy as shit and he performs barefoot for fucksake, but there's just something about him that gets me more excited than the thought of a threesome with Johnny Depp and Rufio from Hook.

Last night I went to see him play and my friend Luiza asked if I thought he was attractive. I thought about it for a second then said, "Well, yes, but only because I think he's an ass slapper." I said this a bit too loudly I guess because people around me started laughing. Woops.

Anyway I think he has weird issues with chicks and probably likes to do a little dominating, but I'd be into it. I'd let him boss me around so long as he never stopped talking in that fuck-me crooner voice of his.

Here are some photos for you to consider, two with his bat-shit crazy exes, Chan Marshall and Joanna Newsom. Just kidding I think Joanna Newsom's pretty sane.

The Rules of Drink Throwing

The other night, I tried to convince one of my friends they should throw a drink on me to spice up a party we were at that was a snoozefest. It would have been great, I had it all planned out, was wearing a white t-shirt and talked to the photographer to figure out his timing so the photo would have been amazing. Plus the drinks were free so we really had nothing to lose.

And no one would do it!

This got me thinking about throwing drinks in general. Since I have been on the giving and receiving end more times then I care to recall, I have compiled some helpful rules, should you ever find yourself in this situation.

1. Have an escape route. This is very important because as I have learned for you the hard way, throwing a drink is like extending a formal invitation for a punch in the head. Take note of bouncers and bartenders and know your neighborhood.

2. Wear shoes you can run in. And don't be too drunk to run, period. My friend Timo and I had decided to switch shoes the night we got chased down the street by an angry bar patron and lemme tell you, I have never seen my white leather boots move so fast. Granted this was for peeing on said patron's leg and not drink throwing, but I sure as shit will think twice about slinging a cocktail if I am sporting anything other than Keds.

3. Don't throw the actual glass.
It will just make the recipient even madder, especially if the glass breaks on their arm and all they did was lock someone in a bathroom for five whole minutes because it was funny. Geez.

4. Don't do this at your local watering hole.
They might have to hold a meeting about whether or not to let you back in ever again, with votes and stuff. Um, theoretically, that is.

5. Don't forget your cell phone at the bar.
Your Dad will not be happy to drive you back to the bar to retrieve it. He will be even more unhappy when you tell him he has to go in and get it for you because you are banned for life. He might even say "You know Jenny, one day you're going to learn that there are consequences for your actions and if you can't handle the aftermath, you better rethink what you're about to do."

Yup. One day.

Thanks for this epic picture, Cian!

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Public Fart Humiliations

Let's get one thing straight - I am totally comfortable farting in front of people. Not that I do so on a regular basis or anything, I'm just saying that I'm not embarrassed by it. There have only been two occasions in my life where I have been truly mortified from a public farting incident. They are as follows:

1. Summer camp, 1991. It was the night of our camp out. I was 9 years old and standing on top of this tall log, you know, taking in my surroundings, the beauty of nature and what not. Suddenly I sneezed and at the exact same moment accidentally let a giant one rip. The two most obnoxious boys in the camp were of course standing right below me and starting screaming, pointing, laughing and yelling to everyone that I pooted. It was tres humiliating. I ran to my sleeping bag and buried myself in it.

2. Shakespeare festival, 1999. Every year at my high school the seniors take a class retreat up to Ashland, Oregon for the Shakespeare festival. It was a 10 hour drive in a gross bus. We were all exhausted by the time we got there but they still made us go see Henry VIII part whatever. I sat down in the back row and promptly fell asleep. A while later I heard a super loud fart. I kept my eyes tightly clamped shut while thinking "Oh god please let that not have been me." As I slowly opened my eyes all I could see was my friend Cara leaning directly over me whispering at the top of her lungs, "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DID THAT!" Yes, I woke myself up in the middle of a Shakespeare play with a fart so loud that people in the first row were turning around to glare.

Lunchables

I've been thinking about Lunchables all day. But not the current fancy/healthy/organic/gay kind. I mean the original ones that your lazy parents used to give you when they first came out in the late '80s.

My mom would only give them to me on "special occassions" (which, by the way, I think is parent code for hungover) and I would practically shit my pants from excitement. In reality it was just cheese, meat and crackers, but you got to put that crap together like you were making your very own personal brand sandwich. And goddamit if I don't love a good sandwich.

Jenny says they were like training wheels for cocktail parties and I have to concur. Because of Lunchables I have never made the embarassing faux pas of piling on 5 pieces of cheese on one tiny cracker. I mean can you imagine?

Streetfighter: A Boning Breakdown

If I had a third parent, it might as well have been Street Fighter, since that's how much time I spent with this game growing up. I am going to break down what I imagine getting sexy with the players would be like, using my favorite version (Street Fighter II, Super NES) as a reference.

Ryu. Boiiinnggg. The one grown man in a karate outfit that doesn't look like he lives in his parent's basement. Ryu is like every chick born in the 80's wet dream, a grown up Karate Kid minus the Macchio.


Blanka. From Brazil, so I am guessing the sex would be terrific after the mountain of cocaine you blow together. Remember he is electrified though, so condom wise you might want to double bag it or use actual rubber like they make tires with.


Dhalsim. Yoga master and just like Stretch Armstrong. Think about it. Downside is he might have to sacrifice you to a cow after because you know homeboy is into some freaky voodoo shit. He wears a necklace made of baby skulls!


Chun-Li.
I'm not really one to come down with a case of yellow fever, but I'm a little gay for Chun-Li. Big rack and some Princess Leia thing going on with her hair. She could break your neck with her thighs though, so proceed with caution if you're headed downtown.


Zangief. Russians are hot and I bet his love for vodka is like mine times fifty. And "Spinning Piledriver" as a move? Sign me up.


Guile. I've never really been into blondes, but it's cool because Guile is more of a hate-fuck anyways. I feel like afterwards he would start crying and have some crazy flashback and tell a boring story that starts with "back in 'Nam." His American flag tattoo has 37 more stars on it than I would have guessed.


E. Honda. Sumo wrestlers are like lazy ninjas who can't keep their tubby paws out of the Cheetos bag, right. But if we are playing by Shanon's "fat people rules" then I will assume E. Honda is one funny motherfucker, hence making hitting it worthwhile.


Ken. He used to be Ryu's best friend. Two words: Eiffel Tower.

Sagat. Dude is 7'4". I find freakishly tall people all kinds of hot. Especially if they look like a bat-shit nuts pirate who would murder you and your whole family just 'cause he felt like it.


Balrog. The Mike Tyson of Street Fighter. I wonder if he's equally rapey and good at biting off ears.


Vega. Spanish ninja! I was unaware these existed. Vega's pretty foxy but it might be due to the fact that you can't see his face. I like the Wolverine dealie he's got going on though. Bueno.


M.Bison. Mmmm, ropes and ball gags would be involved I think. You could get some fun stuff going on with that uniform though. But if "World Domination" is your goal, I'm guessing you're over-compensating for lacking in the dong department, nah mean?

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Sexy Dreams

I got back this morning from 10 days in lezzie/hippie land (aka Portland), and had quite an interesting sexy dream this morning.

This led me to contemplate my past sexy dreams. Here's what I don't understand - why don't I ever bone down with Johnny Depp or James Franco? Aren't dreams supposed to be when you get to do cool shit like fight talking dinosaurs and make whoopie to sexy men?

Apparently not. Here are the list of "celebrities" I've had dream sex with.

1. Casey Jones. This was my "first time" naughty dream, before I was even aware of what sex was.


2. Horatio Sanz. Not the skinny one on the right but the fat one on the left. Believe it or not I have had more than one dream make out seshes with this tubby.


3. Zachary Quinto. This is the only one that I have found acceptable/enjoyable, even though I have a sneaking suspicion that homeboy is gay. Still, he's smokin' hot.


4. Barack Obama and Rahm Emanuel. This dream occurred mere hours ago. Both of them. At once. And in my dream I actually said, "So can I call you Barack?" Ok this photo is kind of hot, but seriously, our president and the chief of staff? I think I have daddy issues.

Puppy Love

The Virgin store at Union Square is going out of business and this was my favorite item up for grabs in the 70% off bin. Bennie saw it and asked me, "Is this made for an animal or a person" to which I replied, "A dog. No, wait. A sexy dog."

Now, I'm no dog whisperer, but last time I checked out the dog run, they were humping away just fine without the assistance of a bedazzled t-shirt.

I'm not sure what the owner of a dog dressed in this get-up thinks the outcome of putting their pet in this outfit will be, but I imagine it goes like this:

"Ha ha! Tricked you, human! It is my dog, not a person you just stuck your dick into! You thought it was a Playboy bunny but it was really my springer spaniel Jojo."

Monday, June 8, 2009

Native American Festival, Wow.

While driving back from the beach Sunday, we spotted a sign for a Native American Festival that we clearly had to investigate. I dunno if it was from being in the sun all day or the giant bag of Tacos At Midnight Doritos we had been using for sustenance, but I think Joel summed it up best: "I feel like I'm fucking tripping."

These chicks were doing all kinds of crazy hula dances*, using these coconut nunchuck mace things.


* Hula dancers must get laid all the time right? I bet they're champs in the sack.

There were teepees and this bird dude. I like the bird's flight helmet.


And so many things I wanted to buy! Let's start with this crazy bone knife with a tooth handle. I'm not sure how practical this is, since you would probably cut the shit out of your hand if you shanked someone with it, but in terms of looking bad-ass it's about a 10.


Joel was popping boners for the many dream catchers on display, but this one was by far my favorite.


I like to keep a bowl of animal head pelts on the coffee table for guests.


Um, there were multiple paintings with this theme.


I was kind of wondering why they were selling NBA sweatshirts there, but then I took a closer look.


I don't know what makes "Indian Tacos" different from regular tacos, nor do I know what "Fry Bread" is, but yes please to both.


Creepy.


Creepier!


And back to the hula dancers. I had to retake this photo because I missed the sweet mullet on the right my first time around.