Archive for February, 2013

This past weekend I was completely out of commission due to flu like symptoms. I’m actually not sure if they were flu like. I was so incredibly out of it I couldn’t even bare to look up the symptoms. I felt achy, lightheaded, and was randomly breaking out in sweats despite not having roughs sex of any kind. Well, no rough sex I can remember. It is possibly I fell out of bed and hit my head on something and now I’m suffering from amnesia after incredibly passionate rough sex with many famous and beautiful women. I’m going to go with that. Any fool can catch the flu. It takes a special man to embarrass himself during sex.

Chris-Farley

(Chris Farley died during sex. Ooo that’s got to put egg on his face)

I noticed myself feeling a little more lightheaded than usual all week long. I thought this was possibly manic depression, suicidal thoughts, or the everlasting desire to kill all of humanity. Apparently I was wrong and it was a virus or whatever the flu is.

I woke up early Friday morning at 3AM or so sweating and having to pee. I piss a lot and it’s rare I can go the whole night without having to get up at least once. This isn’t a sign I’m getting older as much as it should prove I like to keep hydrated. Why I feel the need to prove to you that I’m constantly drinking water is a mystery. I am though. And I’ll tell you, drinking lots of water has done wonders for nothing in my life.

drinking_water-10-command

(I drink so much water and I look nothing like this! Those water advertisements are lies)

I tried to get through the first half of Friday by taking it easy at first. I don’t have a busy schedule or anything. I mean, I had a lot of plans scheduled for that evening and all but my imaginary friends understood. They wanted me to get better because they’re imaginary and why wouldn’t I imagine up people who care about me?

On Friday I decided I would take it easy for the rest of the day because my head couldn’t take much moving around anyway. I lied in bed watching Catfish and a few other shows you can get for free online. Did you know you can get every episode of South Park online for free at their website? Why would you buy the DVD ever? Anyway, Saturday wasn’t much different except I watched more stuff on YouTube. I didn’t watch bad cat videos. I watched Penn & Teller Fool Us as well as Penn & Teller Tell A Lie. These are two shows I got really excited to start watching because I figure there would be two seasons and more to come. Both were cancelled after the first season. So I was stuck with trying to find Disney movies to watch for free on YouTube.

(I don’t necessarily expect you to watch this. I hate seeing lots of paragraphs smashed together and couldn’t find a good picture)

Sunday came around and I was insisting to myself I’d slowly ease myself back into my daily routine of trying to write as much as possible so one day when I do meet Spielberg’s daughter and we get married I have such an armory of creative talent that my new father-in-law will pretty much help me out and I can retire early and die young and at peace. Wow, what a long sentence.

As I type this it’s Sunday night and I’m still not feeling so hot. Or should I say cold? I’m not sure. My mind is still fuzzy and my head literally will go from really hot to really cold which probably means I’m dying. It’s rare I get sick for more than a day let alone something that makes it painful for me to walk down stairs. And when I say walk down stairs I don’t want you thinking I’m some fancy man who lives in a multiple story home. My apartment is on the third floor so understand the struggle it was to carry everything I own up there.

The only observation I have to make about this whole ordeal is about those medicine packets that come with daytime and nighttime pills. I bought a pack of these and there were six servings of each. Logically shouldn’t there be a proportional amount? It should be a 2:1 ratio really if you are expected to sleep 8 hours. So there should have been eight daytime and four nighttime pills in this package. Maybe the people who put this stuff together never get sick and don’t understand how this makes no sense.

st josephs

(St. Joseph’s does it right. Maybe this is why he was granted Sainthood?)

Oh and one more observation. I watched the new season of Beavis and Butthead that came out back in 2011 and they actually seemed really intelligent when talking about Jersey Shore which was probably intentional but I found hilarious. I heard bad things about the new version. Remember, they were always very hit and miss with jokes on the show. I laughed out loud a few times which I don’t do at many non-live jokes. Just wanted to throw that in there.

Oh and one more thing. For about 48 hours over this weekend I only communicated with one person and didn’t even make my aliveness known to anyone in any way. I didn’t post a single thing online or leave any hints that I had not been abducted. I’m curious if I hadn’t talked to the one person I had if it would have been a shorter amount of time between someone asking me if I was alive or not. I know that’s a mean-spirited thing but I really didn’t intend on making anyone think I died until sometime late Saturday night when I had been sick for two full days already and clearly the only cure was some sadism. But based on this information I believe my body would not rot for more than 5 days tops which is satisfying because that’s a business week. Sorry, the sadism is still here.

What helps you when you’re sick?

Recently I fell in love. The most romantic thing of all was it happened this past Valentine’s Day. I was instantly head over heels. From the moment I woke up until the second I fell asleep at night I had could only think about my love. I made sure to devote a lot of time to making things work. I would have given up anything to hear “yes” and instead I was rejected.

Rejection

(This is how I felt. Of course in real life I’m less jive)

For future reference, if I ever refer to loving something and I don’t clearly state that it was a human being then it probably wasn’t. I didn’t really fall in love with anyone or anything as much as I got incredibly interested in submitting comedic pieces to the website College Humor. It’s true though that I put a lot of time and will continue to attempt writing for them. As part of my creative endeavors to diversify myself I am attempting to submit as much to them as possible until they get so annoyed with me they give me a job. This strategy works on women in movies so it must work on websites in real life because aren’t women really just a humor website when you really think about it?

From now on whenever I have something rejected from the site I will post it on this blog. Whenever I have something make it onto the site I will only post a link because it’s a big deal how many hits you get on your articles. So here’s the first thing I wrote for them that received a big fat rejection sticker. I think I have two that are going on the site because they disappeared from my submissions and I never got an email saying yes or no. Fingers crossed…

Quentin Tarantino is Trying to Turn Me Gay

Filmmaker Quentin Tarantino has a unique creative voice. His films tend to be ultraviolent and filled with a colorful cast of characters. Some Tarantino haters claim his films encourage violence. His movies have never made me want to kill anyone. However, they’re starting to turn me gay. The female characters in his films are so insanely more masculine than I could ever be no matter how much protein powder I consume. I’m starting to think I should just move to Vermont and find a twink to marry because I will never end up with a woman like the ones Tarantino showcases in his movies.

Beatrix Kiddo “The Bride” from Kill Bill:

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(I always thought her name was Beatrice. Is Beatrix a real name? I never trust people with an X in their name)

Played by Uma Thuman, The Bride is everything I’m afraid of in a woman. She does not give up. She just keeps coming after you. Poor Bill made one mistake, trying to kill her on her wedding day, and she will not let it go. She knows Kung Fu, how to use a sword, and travels around the world without getting lost like most women would. I could never date a woman like The Bride. I want to cut off my own penis just thinking about it.

Mia Wallace from Pulp Fiction:

mia wallace

(Confidence in a woman is sexy. Confidence in a woman also makes me shit my pants)

Again played by Uma Thuman, Mia Wallace is the wife of gangster Marcellus Wallace, a man I have no interest in ever pissing off. John Travolta’s character Vincent Vega feels the same way I would when he’s asked to take her out on a date. His only task is to laugh at her fucking jokes and pretend what she has to say is interesting. Still, her beauty and unique perspective on life is a Venus flytrap begging men to enter. Mia is entirely too careless with her drug usage too which would be annoying. One date with Vincent and she nearly overdoses. To me Marcellus Wallace does in fact look like a bitch because he puts up with Mia’s nonsense.

All of the women in Death Proof:

death proof

(Math pattern question, what color will the next woman’s skin be and what color shirt will she be wearing?)

The female characters in Tarantino’s grindhouse film Death Proof fall into two main categories. These women are either incredibly dumb and will do whatever a man fools them into doing or they won’t shut the fuck up. The ones who don’t shut the fuck up end up surviving which sends a bad message. The options are pretty limited in this film as far as teaching women how to behave goes. Then again, if you watch a Tarantino film on how you should behave then you’re doing a lot of things wrong in your life.

The fact no women appear in Reservoir Dogs:

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(I think at this point in his career Tarantino was still too awkward to talk to girls)

Reservoir Dogs is a great film. When considering it’s an all-male cast I begin to wonder if we even need women. I know they’re important for procreation and pie baking so we cannot completely kill them off. The only key female in the entire film is the pregnant woman in the car who shoots Mr. Orange. If this tells me anything it’s that all women are already knocked up and they’re carrying guns. This is not the kind of girl I want or need in my life.

Samuel L. Jackson in everything he does:

sam-jackson

(Look at that soft smile. It’s like he’s telling me not to worry, everything is going to be alright)

Tarantino has convinced me that sex with Samuel L. Jackson would be the best sex of my life. He’s a little wild, he always plays it cool, and his voice alone could probably make me climax. I’m not sure how down Mr. L. Jackson would be to ever sleep with me, but is there any harm in asking? The worst thing he could ever say is “No motherfucker! I ain’t no queer!” and that alone will be enough to satisfy my libido.

I’m surprised I never told this story of my youth yet on the o’le blog. It’s one of my few stories where I actually, pardon my French, fucking dominated my shithead 6th grade pussy classmates. Many of them have gone on to become doctors or have visible abdominal muscles, but they can never take away the glory I had this day.

My middle school had a tradition of having a Medieval Day at the end of each year. I’m not sure why. We only learned about that era in history class for about a week. I think they chose this part of history because it was the cheapest. If the food or decorations didn’t arrive they could just say the delivery man died of plague and everything would stay in character.

In order to participate in this event you had to dress up as someone from the era. Basically the only choices were if you were a female you dressed up like a princess or a peasant and if you were a male you were a knight or a peasant. All the boys in my class said they were going to be knights because knights are so much cooler than peasants. I was going to wear my regular clothes and be a peasant but because everyone else was going to be a knight I decided to be one too.

knight costume

(I thought I’d look like this…)

My knight’s uniform was nothing more than a black shirt my mom had that kind of looked like a knight’s chainmail. I shouldn’t just gloss over the fact that I wore one of my mom’s shirts to school but it almost feels irrelevant to the rest of the story. A knight’s job was to participate in what the school considered a jousting contest. We didn’t have horses or anything like that. Instead we had to stand on a line of tape on the ground and make sure our feet didn’t come off while we hit each other with our swords which were essentially socks filled with more socks. Why did I go to such a cheap and wimpy school?

bad knight costume

(…I looked more like this)

The day of the actual Medieval Day came and most boys were peasants or gay princes. One classmate was the “Kid Formerly Known as Prince.” He was always a trendy dick. There was a mini-jousting tournament held in each classroom where the winners would advance to finals where they could hit classmates with socks in front of the rest of the grade. It actually wasn’t the entire grade, just my half of the grade. We were split into two halves and…blah blah blah you get the point.

I had to beat two classmates to advance to the finals. I don’t remember who the first was but the second was a lot taller and had a face triceratops face. After I won the biggest whore in the class was sent out to report to the other classes that I was Mrs. Kroelinger’s champion. Mrs. Kroelinger had two sons. How does a man with the name Kroelinger ever get laid? That’s irrelevant. What matters was I had made it to the finals.

The finals would take place in the auditorium, like I said, in front of a shitload of people. My first opponent was the tallest kid in school. I didn’t move at all when he hit me with the sock. He ended up falling off the line anyway because he was so grotesquely tall. The teachers talked with each other and said I had to at least make it look like I was trying otherwise I’d forfeit. My mind games weren’t allowed. It was at that moment I learned schools are good for one thing, killing innovation.

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(I was basically the Leonardo Da Vinci of hitting people with socks. I need to start telling this to women more)

I defeated the tall kid best 2 out of 3 taking the first two. My next opponent was a really athletic kid who bruised me he hit me so hard. I was fat though and wouldn’t budge. I beat him 2-1 by the hair of my balls. I think everyone wanted him to win because he was kind of popular. I blame my unwillingness to take a dive as to why I never had a date to prom.

When the finals came I had pretty much became the favorite. I was the underdog. Funny thing about the guy in the finals against me, he was the same boy who beat me at Madden and rubbed it in my face at our Up All Night Giggle Fest only two years earlier. I had vengeance in my blood is what I was saying. He had shown me his asshole and now I was about to turn him into one–or something more clever.

The judges each round were two different unbiased female classmates who had nothing to gain from who won. The winner of the jousting contest got their class the opportunity to eat at the Medieval Day Buffet first. My whole class was dependent on me. They needed to eat before everyone else. Our classmates had filthy hands and they would certain pass along way too many germs. Getting to dig your fingers into the food first meant the difference between life and having a cold. The two judges for the final round were the hottest girl in school and a girl who is dead now. I guess they wanted the finals to have a wide range of experiences.

milli-vanilli2

(Milli Vanilli, my favorite female duo where the ugly one is dead and the hot one lives on)

In two quick matches I devoured my opponent. I showed no mercy. I have little respect for anyone who shows me their blonde asshole. I was given a trophy and my teacher told me to celebrate as much as I wanted. My class ate first and I was popular until the end of the school year. The school year was only another week unfortunately. The next year everyone forgot how awesome I was and I had to start from scratch. I think the moral of the story here is they should have given us real swords because I would have still won anyway.

P.S. I think I wrote about this before but it’s awesome to remind people who I was cool for a 24 hour period. Plus there was food, violence, and I mentioned a hot chick.

My childhood was filled with eating, crying, and going to playgrounds. I talk about food way too much on this blog and I’d say half of the posts I do involve me crying. For the sake of being different, I’m going to write about how cool playground equipment used to be.

Bumpy Park:

This was a park with a slide near my dad’s work that was very bumpy. It had these weird spinning things that whenever you rode down it you’d need preparation afterwards. I’m pretty sure at least 1,000 girls tore their hymens riding down this. Other awesome dangerous things at this park were a random platform you could climb up. It was basically a lookout tower. I remember using this to climb up then throw those prickly things you always find at parks at my dad. He’d throw them at me too so don’t think I was a bad kid.

bumpy slide

(It was like this only not as incredibly way too high. Seriously, that kid is never going to have children)

Veterans Park:

This was a local park across from my high school. It’s really big and the equipment used to be badass. There were three different pieces to it. One didn’t have anything all too dangerous. The only thing cool they had near it was a zipline like in Home Alone. Seriously, they would NEVER put a zipline anywhere in a public park these days without an adult present to help them. This always scared me and I never made it more than halfway across what looked to be 500 feet. Another piece of equipment was made all out of wood which meant I was always getting splinters. It had a slide that was incredibly high and made of steel which meant in the summer it could burn your flesh off. There were also these tunnels you could climb up in which I always thought was scary because if you fell no adult would be small enough to crawl to save you. Perhaps the most dangerous thing though was a balance beam held together with only one chain in the center. It wasn’t too high off the ground yet somehow I still managed to fear it every time my mom made me walk across.

doom_bridge

(My mom was always mean when it came to playground equipment. I’m not sure why. I think she had a secret life as a playground equipment designer and didn’t want to see it going to waste)

That Park Near the Retarded Kid School:

This park didn’t last very long. It didn’t have much dangerous because it was the playground for a school of mentally handicapped children. They had better things than my school did and I was always tempted to stop studying so I could end up there. The most dangerous thing at this park wasn’t even a real piece of equipment. There was a random round tube always lying around, think water slide. My sister and I would climb inside and my dad would push it down the hill. The problem with this is there’s no way to stop the tube until you smash into something. How have I never had a concussion?

isaac newton

(Sir Isaac Newton thinks I belonged in that retarded kid school for ever thinking it was a good idea to go against his laws of motion)

Satan’s Park:

This was the only park within walking distance to my home. It didn’t have anything too dangerous other than the broken glass all over the place. There was also a small sewage system nearby so the place smelt like shit. They eventually put in some nicer equipment but nobody seemed to notice because this was still the place where kids went to smoke pot. Now they had a new slide to do it underneath.


SouthPark12-Satan

My Elementary School:

I’d have to mention my elementary school equipment simply because I broke my leg there. Of course I broke it on probably the safest equipment too, the monkey bars hanging 6 feet off the ground. There was also a dangerously high slide that was at the center of the equipment. I’m talking scary dangerous. A kid a grade lower than me actually got pushed off and they had to fly a helicopter in to rescue him. The kid who pushed him ended up becoming a gay Puerto Rican. I think he was always Puerto Rican or maybe you don’t become one until you nearly break a child’s neck.

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(I know when you’re a Jet you’re a Jet for life. I’m not sure how the Sharks work though. There weren’t as many songs about them)

Dangerous Park:

The name my family says it all. This park was so dangerous it was called such. Located at Long Beach Island at the Jersey Shore (that’s not why it was dangerous), this park had me crying on several occasions. First of all everything was made of wood which is never safe. Second, everything was incredibly high up. The main scary thing about this park however was a fireman’s pole that you’d have to inch off the edge of the jungle gym to even reach. If you could manage to do that you’d have to quickly wrap your arms and legs around it then pray the paint chipping off and flying into your mouth on the way down wasn’t too poisonous. The last time I went to dangerous park my mom called me a pussy for not going down the pole. There’s a little bit of irony in that sentence if you want to think of it dirty-like. I eventually did get the courage and I slid down the pool for the first time ever. It felt good and it was like I had beaten the Grim Reaper as his own game.

StripperPole

(This was my biggest fear, trying to slide down the pole and landing on my head. Wait, she’s doing this on purpose? It’s supposed to be sexy? No. I just feel dizzy now)

There were many more awesome parks that I’d go to with lots of cool things and dangerous equipment. If you were to go to parks today you’d think this stuff never existed. Everything is about safety and being colorful. When my parents were kids I bet they played in toxic waste dumps instead of on jungle gyms and rather than sliding down slides they’d go off with a strange for a car ride.

Do you remember any awesome playground equipment from your childhood? Do you also feel like going sledding after reading this like I do?

Here is the second episode of Stick Prison. I’m honestly a little disappointed with the results, not that it’s completely terrible or anything. I just liked the first episode more and the voices hurt my throat too much this time around. I also realized a major error that would take me 3 hours to fix. It doesn’t affect the story so screw you guys I’m not fixing it. The third episode I have planned will be epic and awesome. Now to get the motivation to do it. My focus has been elsewhere the last two weeks, but I will get around to it at some point. Anyhow, enjoy. If you missed the first episode you can find it here: Stick Prison

STICK PRISON graffiti

I’ll keep this short and sweet then maybe say something incredibly nasty at the end so you know it’s me. I entered a contest about a month ago where we needed to write a cliffhanger 1,000 words or less. I was excited because I enjoy competition and thought I could slip out of this one with the victory. Low and behold the contest is nothing more than a popularity contest. Its only function is to help the author who put the contest together get more Likes on his author page on Facebook. Fair enough. It’s just a little disheartening that I could have held down the “j” key 80 times and as long as I had a lot of people to vote for me I would have won. Who knows, maybe the contest is rigged and it’s actually not a complete sham. Perhaps there’s some outside chance this contest was not created with the sole intent of promoting his new book.

Still, I’d like to win. Chances are I won’t because people with big families always win these contests and that’s not something I have other than you guys. Awww.

Here are the steps you must take in order to vote for me. Unfortunately you need a Facebook account to do it which seems like this could be a really allegorical point about voters and IDs.

1) Go here

2) Like the page

3) Click on the Contest button

4) CTRL + F then search for “Tim” because that’s me

5) Click on the little “Vote” square at the bottom of my story. You can read it too. You should read it. This is a contest about voting for the best one, right? No. It’s not. Life is bullshit.

6) Make sure it counted your vote

7) Do it again maybe?

8) Beg me to vote for you the next time you need help. I’ll be more than willing.

That’s it. Thank you. Make me a beauty queen.

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(This could be me, but you know, not a black female)

 

There’s nothing wrong with the pharmacy Rite Aid other than the fact they have a variation of the word “right” in its name. I’m not a big Rite Aid fan as far as pharmacies go. They never seem to have what I want. Unfortunately sometimes you don’t have a choice which pharmacies you buy your peanuts from. Right now the nearest CVS to me is a mile downhill which means if I ever want to get back home I’ll have to go a mile up hill. Walgreens? I think I have to cross the River Styx to get there. The following is a short excerpt on why I do not like Rite Aid. It can be better known as “finding something to complain about.”

(It’s really not that bad of a song)

I stopped in at Rite Aid hoping to get milk and peanuts. I’m practically made of these two items now. They’re close to 90% of all I ingest other than the ten spiders the average person eats a year while sleeping.

The first bad sign at this particular Rite Aid was when I noticed they only had two kinds of milk a few days earlier. They had Whole Milk and 1%. Huh? Where’s the variety? That’s the spice of life. On this day though they only had Whole Milk and 2%. Is this a sign from God that I need to fatten myself up? I have been getting beaten up a lot by middle schoolers so maybe I should.

middle schoolers

(They’re a lot meaner when the teacher isn’t around)

Normally I’ll drink Skim Milk but I don’t mind the other kinds so I didn’t complain. When I went further down the aisle to grab some peanuts I noticed they had none. Well, they had plenty but no smaller bags. Don’t they realize people without self-control like me exist? How can I possibly have a giant container of peanuts in my home and not eat them all in one sitting? I instead grabbed the last small bag of salted cashews available. Cashews are good, just not as good as peanuts. Cashews taste a little too much like toe nails, the object their shape most resembles.

I got to the front of the line when the biggest problem of all happened, there was a line. Not only was there a line, there was one line. The other cashier was standing there though, possibly learning English because she didn’t seem to speak it very well when the working cashier muttered things under her breath about how lazy the non-English speaking one seemed to be.

Sirella

(I think she spoke Klingon. “Buenos dias” is Klingon right? And why does dias come up as a misspelling but Klingon doesn’t? Further proof a nerd invented spell check)

At the front of the line was an Arabian woman. Maybe she wasn’t Arabian. She had on something you would see a Muslim woman wear without the cool foot soldiers from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles mask. I’m pretty sure she wasn’t Muslim though because she was buying Christmas lights. Lots of them. I think they were on sale. I would estimate she bought around 50 of these little cases because her total came out to $58 dollars. If each was a buck and you add on sales tax you get around $58. Needless to say, standing in line behind a woman at a pharmacy buying 50 items can make you really hope to see her get hit by a bus outside, 50 times.

Next in line was a Hispanic woman. I can never tell Hispanic women’s ages. They all look 30. I think the more a Spanish woman smiles the younger she is. After standing in line for 8 minutes and not moving up a single spot, this Spanish lady had a lot of questions to ask. She was buying three Swiffer products and each one she asked about the price. Ummm does she not know these things are labeled? She ended up getting two of the items and not the most expensive. Oddly enough, the most expensive was also the biggest. Go figure, the more you get the more expensive it will be.

hands

(Obviously the big hand would be more expensive than the little hand. Then again, can you really buy hands?)

Finally in front of me was a curly-haired white woman in puffy black coat. I already hated this woman because while walking down a crowded aisle she didn’t even for a second think to let me get by. She was probably 50 and very pushy. She was buying a bag of almonds, three Snickers bars, and pain killers. Then she spotted an on-sale variety pack of peanut jars and grabbed that before checking out. I would hate to be this woman’s toilet paper.

I got to the front of the line and I was in and out much faster than these ladies. I was so fast as soon as I stepped outside I still saw the Christmas lights lady, the Spanish woman, and the pushy bitch standing there looking at their receipts to make sure they weren’t ripped off. I’m not really sure what I wanted to say here except for that lines suck and I don’t like people.