Swimming Pools

I am participating in another “write about something we tell you to write about or else you’re not cool” by the two biggest bullies I know, Emily and Ashley. They wanted us cool kids to talk about swimming pools. I don’t feel like telling a story, plus making bullet points is a lot quicker so here are random bullet pointed memories from swimming pools minus the time a girl saw my penis in one.

-The last pool party I went to, Nick Tallone kicked me in the testicles. It was at Dave Pugliese’s party and his mom yelled at Nick for while I sheltered my scrotum. I actually wrote about this already in a future post so sorry when I repeat myself in a few weeks. My nuts still haven’t recovered.

-The last pool party I was invited to I didn’t show up because a girl I liked was going to be there and I wanted to think she might like me. Taking off my shirt would have made her not like me.

-Freshman year of high school I was the only guy who got a note to get out of pool which everyone laughed about because nobody wanted to see me shirtless anyway. I ended up spending the period sitting with all the girls. The next day a kid who is a cross-dresser now and a Korean kid didn’t swim because they were too exhausted from the day before. Every year after that in high school most of the class would get notes to avoid going in the piss-filled water.

-My favorite game to play in a pool is throwing as many objects in there then walking around the outer edge for about a half hour. This creates such a strong current that you can spend a long time just floating around in really rough waters. I’m so easy to please.

-One time I went with Brian Jany to a community pool his family was a member at. I saw some kid named Elliot there eating that weird candy that looks like a piece of chalk that you did into colored sugar. Nothing else happened.

-In sixth grade I went to a day camp during the summer sponsored by the YMCA. Part of this was swimming in a pool then swimming in a lake. I swam in the pool a few times and the gay kid told me he liked how goo my cannonballs were. When I swam in the lake I saw a dead turtle float into a kid’s face.

-The only time I really ever enjoyed swimming was during my early trips to the Poconos with my dad and sister. Our favorite game to play was going underwater and counting how many fingers my dad was holding up. My vision is terrible now and it probably has something to do with opening my eyes in chlorinated water.

-One time my younger sister pooped in a swimming pool and our babysitter had to hose her ass off.

-Some kid named Robert with warts on his hands basically taught me how to swim. He said, “Jump in. You’re fat enough to float.” I did and I was.

-When I was about 12 my mom said we could either get a pool or a new dog. The family unanimously decided to get a pool. We got a dog and he’s still alive.

Swimming pools for me are a place of insecurities, few good memories, and dead bugs floating around. They should all die.

(This poorly Photoshopped picture is my personal hell)

Washing Chambers

I remember reading The Diary of Anne Frank in 8th grade nude and thinking she should have been named Anne Liar, not Frank. What’s so Frank about her? She never came off as forthcoming to me. Or maybe I don’t understand the meaning of the word frank. I’m basing this off the personality of Frank from the Frank and Ernest comics.

So I guess I have two things to say in this post. The first is that I hate bothering people with anything. I’m not saying I won’t again, but for now since I have things popping up daily I would rather not be a major pest and devote this entire blog to you clicking on links to go somewhere else. I have added an RSS Feed to my Yahoo articles onto my page. It’s pretty cool if you click on them as often as you can because I actually get money for these. So like occasionally check that out and click on everything so I don’t have to bug you constantly. I may still actually post links at the bottom of my other pieces I write on this blog without being too intrusive. Here’s a picture example where you can find it:

So like yeah check it out and start writing for them yourself.

Oh and here’s why I mentioned Anne Frank at the beginning. I wrote a letter to my bathroom and submitted it to some other website that isn’t College Humor. They rejected me of course because every website out there is run by the girls from my high school. Anne Frank is mentioned because the only thing I remember from the book is that they called the bathroom WCs. See how it all makes sense now?

A Letter to my Bathroom

Dear My Bathroom,

Sup? I have a few questions for you when you have the time. Don’t respond in a passive aggressive manner either like you tend to do. I find that very unattractive.

The first thing I am wondering about is the state of the toilet. How is it always getting so dirty? There are fecal stains in places there should not be fecal stains. Poop would literally have to shoot out from the toilet during a flush, deflect off the door, hit the floor, and then crawl along and up the front of the toilet. I don’t believe this is possible for a second because I always poop with the door open. If people don’t like what they see then they shouldn’t be breaking into my apartment. I also have concerns about the amount of hair on the toilet. I understand I am carrying several hairs on my body. Several may even have the potential to grow to dozens soon enough. I get it. After some investigating though, not all of those hairs can possibly be from me. The length of pubic hairs varies greatly, so much to the degree I wonder if you are planting these here to make me feel like I have guests over more frequently than I do, never. If so, thank you for making me feel less alone.

Here’s my complaint about the shower. The water is too hot. This is fine during the winter months. In the summer months this is painful and upsetting. I want to hurt someone after taking a shower, normally. After taking a shower in this bathroom with the burning hot water, I still want to hurt someone, but now it’s someone who doesn’t deserve it quite as much. I would also like the option to take a bath if I wanted to. The option does not exist and the maintenance man said he would take care of it. I am afraid to call him back again because the superintendent of my building has a strange skin disease. I am frightened that he will come do the job himself, a piece of his weird skin will fall off his face, and I will step on it. My feet are gross enough as they are. I do not want them looking like this guy’s face. He also wears a bandana frequently. Unless you are a cowboy bank robber or a freshly groomed dog I would prefer not seeing a bandana anywhere near you.

The final thing I want to bring up to you is the problem with the medicine cabinet mirror. Or should I say mirrors? These are two separate entities and when looking into the mirror you make me look really fat. This works well when flexing my arms because it doubles my bicep size by adding two inches. For the rest of my body though this is problematic. I gave up eating for a month because I didn’t realize you had this strange optical illusion staring me in the eye, chest, hips, thighs, waistline, or anywhere else I am insecure about on my body. Please see to it that you correct this problem. I suggest smashing.

There is a library down the street. I have seen a homeless man bathe in the sink there. Don’t think that I won’t be willing to do the same if you don’t take the time to at least think about changing.

Respectfully yours,

Tim

Recent Yahoo Articles:

Five Advantages of a Minor League Baseball Game

Top Ten Lies University Students Tell Their Community College Friends

Goons

As I continue to clear out my files of movie reviews I wrote, here’s one I wrote about the film Goon. Goon is the term used for a thug in hockey. I can’t remember if I mention that in the piece. It’s also what the very mean crossing guard on Arthur says will come and get him if he doesn’t pay a fee to cross the street.

My review of the film Goon:

Hockey is a sport that I believe everyone will love if they ever went to a game. I seem to promise a lot of girls that I will take them to a game someday. I never do. Have you seen the prices? It’s a lot easier to watch a movie on Netflix with them instead. So if you’re cheap like me, give Goon a chance.

Goon stars Sean William Scott as a Jewish guy whose dad is Eugene Levy. For fans of the American Pie films, this can be a little confusing. Remember, they are only actors and neither is a documentary, although they pretend Goon is based on a true story which it barely is.

Sean William Scott plays Doug Glatt, a depressed Massachusetts bouncer who feels he has nothing in life to call his own. His older brother and father are successful physicians, his mother is married to a physician, and his best friend Pat has an Internet/cable access show (Does it matter which? Nobody watches either) about the local minor league hockey team. Doug goes to a game where Pat’s taunting of a player on the opposing team causes him to use a gay slur against Pat. Offended by this because his brother is gay, Doug attacks the tough guy hockey player and totally kicks his ass.

As logic would tell you, Doug would be arrested and the player would probably face charges too plus a suspension. Neither happens. Instead Doug is signed to play for the team even though he has no clue how to ice skate. Chris Brown isn’t an asshole, he’s just trying to get a job as a minor league hockey team enforcer.

 (This film really makes you think hockey players bleed all the time during fights. Not really. It’s like we’re supposed to believe they’re all Henry VIII’s hemophiliac son)

The players on the team are reluctant to accept Doug’s role as a goon on the team. He beats a bunch of them up at practice and they shut their mouths. Doug is then recruited to player for a higher level minor league hockey team. I guess a comparison to this would be like being the person who cleans up the shit at a hospital then getting a promotion where you clean up the shit of only the wealthy patients.

Doug’s main role on this new team is to protect a star player, Xavier Laflamme. Laflamme suffered an injury at the hands of Ross “The Boss” Rhea, an infamous enforcer who was such a thug he was almost banned from hockey all together. Laflamme is a top goal scorer and only with Doug’s help looking over his shoulder can he get back to the way he was before the injury. In classic fashion, Laflamme dislikes Doug at first, but eventually comes around because what would a movie be if no one grew?

 (These pictures are reminding me how they unrealistically made it seem like hockey players don’t stitch up open wounds. They do all the time. Ugh Hollywood magic)

It is while at a bar Doug meets the love interest in the film, Eva. She’s a minor league hockey groupie who is always slutting it up with players. I guess a comparison to this would be like dating someone who lies in a hospital bed shitting themselves then breaking up with them to date someone with money who lies in a bed shitting themselves. The only problem with this seemingly perfect relationship, Eva already has a man in her life. Oh no! Can she keep her legs closed for a minor league hockey goon with a heart of gold?

Much of the film leads to a rivalry between Doug and The Boss. Their teams are set to meet each other in the final game of the season which as it turns out, is for the final playoff spot. The Boss is less interested in winning the game as much as he is letting Doug know he is still the number one goon in hockey.

(How could Liev Schreiber possibly win? His name is Liev)

My opinion on this film is flimsy. It is credited as a comedy, but it’s not really funny at all. Many lines are forced and Sean William Scott, a naturally funny actor, is timid and weak for much of the movie. His usual charm does not shine through in this film which really disappointed me because I always enjoy his work. The positive though is the story is not a typical three act “I read a book on how to write a screenplay” written movie. There are many storylines to interconnect that do make this a fun movie.

As this movie is mostly about hockey goons, I would be a bigger failure than my dad tells me I am if I did not mention them. At times the fights feel a little too cartoonish. The fact they are consistently this way though lets me forgive it. Most hockey fights in real life involve a lot of shirt pulling and square dancing type maneuvers. The fighting in Goon is closer to Street Fighter.

Overall this is a fun film to watch and doesn’t have any of those annoying sports inaccuracies that will make you want to hurt another human being who doesn’t deserve it. Don’t expect the humor of Slapshot or the drama of Miracle. Goon is a much simpler film than those which is just fine. It’s a movie about a guy trying to find something that he’s good at. This is the kind of story we can all relate to, unless of course you absolutely hate everything having to do with hockey. If that’s the case then go watch something stupid like Kicking and Screaming with Will Ferrell you cowardly soccer fan.

Here’s how the first NHL game I ever went to ended. The first hockey game at all I went to was a minor league game so there’s no clips, but it was like this the entire time. Maybe Goon wasn’t so inaccurate after all.

Yahoo Contributing Articles

I started “contributing” things to the Yahoo Contributor’s Network. I am not a fan of the word contribute. It’s a word teachers would use whenever they felt you were not participating. Usually when a kid doesn’t participate it’s because there is a much bigger problem. Then the teachers embarrass the kid by calling him out on his bullshit and the kid goes home and cries. Then his parents meet together at the school to figure out what’s wrong with me. The school blames my parents and my parents blame the school system. A fist fight breaks out between my dad and the principal. My mom yanks a woman’s earring out through the flesh and due to the injury the woman gets an infection. The next two years are spent trying to keep my mom out of jail for “getting caught up in the heat of the moment” which is the sleazy lawyer’s advice. Meanwhile I am in 4th grade now, friendless, and weighing 200 pounds. My dad’s living in Peru and late in the year we find out he has received a sex change operation. After a 16 month sentence, my mom ends up serving a lifetime for her actions while incarcerated. My dad remarries and eventually drowns in his own semen, according to the autopsy report. All of this because I wouldn’t contribute.

But I’m contributing now. Here are the first three things that have been put up there. Whether they interest you or not, it’s helpful if you click on the links because I get paid per visit aka I may be able to make enough to buy a nothing. I’ve already submitted things that fall under the “humor” label so that should be more interesting for you…maybe. So just click on each. It’s helpful.

Three Baseball Teams and What They Should do at the Trade Deadline

Better Than Nirvana

Catchers Are the New Shortstops

If you want to contribute to Yahoo then Google “yahoo voices” and figure it out yourself. You won’t make much money, but if it gets picked up by one of the random Yahoo sites then you can earn a pretty penny. By pretty I mean around $2.

(I’d hit it)

July Christmases

It’s Christmas in July. This holiday used to be big in my family when I was younger. Every year my mom would let me and my younger sister pick out one gift worth $25. I remember picking out a baseball game for Sega Genesis. It was a pretty cool game. I loaded my team with superstar. At the All-Star break, Jeff Bagwell of the Philadelphia Phillies already had 50 home runs. He was well on his way to potentially reaching double digits, a record that would have blown away even the steroid numbers. I’m not sure why I stopped playing the game, but I did. The game was great too because they made a big deal whenever a record was set. I never got to see the celebration. I think life got in the way.

Since I have very few Christmas in July memories other than getting that one video game, here are all of the Held Back comics I have created so far that are somehow Christmas related. Yeah. This is one of those posts where I remind you that I’m doing something else and you act as if you care. You can view all of the comics by clicking here. I update every so often and don’t want to be a nag. Some of these are clever and well done while others are tragically sad and anticlimactic aka life real life.

Held Back: The Christmas Gift

Held Back: Giant Santa’s Lap

Held Back: Home Alone Abridged

Held Back: Santa’s New Job

Held Back: Giant Santa is Coming

Held Back: What Time is It

Held Back: Holiday Plans

Held Back: The Shining Abridged

Held Back: Die Hard Abridged

I’m aware that The Shining isn’t a Christmas Movie. There’s still snow and I didn’t realize how few Christmas themed comics I have done. That’s it. Thank you. Stay cool. Enjoy your Christmas in July.

Cleavage Battles

I was on a train recently and I saw the most amazing thing ever, some Mexican woman’s cleavage. Now before this turns into some strange public transportation erotica story let me just say that it’s not. This is about spending time with people who you cannot communicate or share a single interest with. Let me just talk about her cleavage for a moment though.

Fantastic. The word fantastic was invented for her. She wore a black and white dress, conservative for the most part until we got to her bosom. Or is it bosoms? I don’t know if a tit is considered a bosom or if the whole package is the bosom. Anyway, the front of her dress crossed in some fancy way and there was a good space open in front of her chest large enough for me to shove my face in. I didn’t shove my face in there because I’m not one of those people and she had a boyfriend or husband with her and he was much taller than I am.

Rarely when I get on a train and I know it’s going to be crowded will I grab a seat. I know there is going to be some old person, pregnant woman, or pushy human being who deserves a painful death that I’ll end up having to give my seat up to anyway. It’s easier to just stand than to do a kind gesture for another person and not get anything back in return. I decided on this venture to stand near the door that says “Do Not Lean Against Door” rather than stand where all the buttons are. That’s the kind of person I am. I would rather accidentally lean against a door and fall out than I would accidentally bump against a button and have to stand there embarrassed as the conductor has to check to make sure there’s no emergency.

(That’s pretty much me standing there except I never dress like Hans Gruber)

The train was unusually crowded for a Saturday night. I thought people stayed at home crying Saturday nights like I usually do. Please don’t tell me I’m doing things incorrectly…

After a few stops and the first where things really packed in, the Mexican woman with the awesome cleavage stepped onto the train, heels clicking against the floor, the march of a slut sounds. With her was the earlier mentioned husband or boyfriend. He was tall, handsome, had glasses, and had the same voice as some guy I knew. I had not seen the guy in a few years and when I said hello to him he said “Oh yeah I remember you” then walked away. Fuck him.

(Both of these men look like actor Walton Goggins with a smaller forehead. If I had said with a bigger forehead that would have been frightening)

They stood near me because I guess they have farting problems and wanted my stench to cover up their gastrointestinal embarrassment. They began talking about how they were going to a show at UCB. The guy had no clue what UCB stood for and since I know more about the New York comedy scene than the average mongoloid, I chimed in that it stood for Upright Citizen’s Brigade.

The two lovers turned to me as this is the thing you do when someone you don’t know speaks. He gave me an “Oh yeah!” and we then began talking about the show they were seeing. Tits McCleavage-Bonergiver looked at me too and gave me an “I don’t know what you’re saying, but you don’t seem threatening” smile as I spoke with her man. He told me he had gotten an email from his work about the show featuring Amy Poehler, “that Michael Cera guy from Juno”, and “that blonde guy from 30 Rock.”

First of all, if you refer to Michael Cera as being the guy from Juno, you missed out on a lot of his career. He wasn’t even the star. The film had a titular character that wasn’t him and this is the only film the guy knows him from. Second of all, this guy wouldn’t shut up about 30 Rock. I have never seen an episode, but I pretended I knew who he was talking about because it’s weird to explain to a person “I don’t have cable and even when I did the idea of 30 Rock never really appealed to me much because I find Tina Fey a little overrated in many ways. I would probably give it a shot at some point, but there are so many other things I have to watch beforehand that appeal to me more.”

(Michael Cera has done so much at this point I bet he doesn’t even put Juno on his resume)

Our conversation didn’t last long and he kept saying “Should be a good show” in a “Shut up dude” way to me. So I did that. I stopped chatting with them. They continued to talk though and that’s when I learned this guy might not be so lucky. His female companion still could not grasp what improv comedy was. That’s fine. Sometimes I don’t get what improv comedy is.

Their interaction continued while I stared at some old guy in the adjacent train car picking his nose then occasionally back at the woman’s cleavage as a chaser for humanity. They talked about lots of nonsense and the most important thing of all was their conversation was not a back and forth. One would talk for five minutes and get almost no response and then the other would do the same. It wasn’t like they were loveless either. They just didn’t seem to comprehend what the other was saying.

Somehow it came up that the woman knew someone who was “really smart” and got real into UFOs. Awesome-Breasts O’Rgasmic told the most horrendous story about how they went to a bookstore looking for something. The story made absolutely no sense at all. Her hubby had so many questions and he seemed so terribly confused as did I. She laughed a lot during the story like she was already seeing Juno’s Michael Cera perform improv. When the story ended her husband looked at her and said, “Okay…”

(She could have read Great Expectations in Spanish and gotten a better response…and that book totally sucks)

At one point I thought this guy had it all. The more I was around him the more I came to realize he really did. Her cleavage was that awesome that it doesn’t matter how boring her stories were. It doesn’t matter how she didn’t seem to enjoy any of the same things as him. Perhaps worst of all, she reminded me a lot of someone I dated years ago. Both were Mexicans with beautiful pimple scars, nice bodies, and not making any sense. I could have been this guy. I could have been trapped in a world where the best thing in it is some Central American cleavage.

Human Centipede Sequels

Here is the review I wrote for that website that never ended up existing for The Human Centipede Part Deux. It has nothing to do with one of my most memorable blog posts I have ever done entitled Human Centipedes where I thoroughly analyze which part of the Human Centipede I would most like to be. So here’s a medically accurate review of an unnecessary made shock sequel.

The Human Centipede 2 Review:

Few movies can stir up such controversy as the film The Human Centipede. I had heard about the film from a friend who had heard about it from a homosexual Asian prostitute she knows, how appropriate. I enjoyed the original film, especially the first half where it was actually genuinely creepy and frightening. I had high hopes for the sequel. The last time I was this disappointed was when I got the waitress at Hooters with the one breast. I know it shows that she’s brave and all, but let’s call a spade a spade. The last thing I want to think about when I’m out with the guys for wings at Hooters is a hysterectomy.

The Human Centipede 2 starts off promising. The main character is introduced to us as a parking garage attendant, better known to some as  the unskilled janitor. He sits in his small cube office watching the finale of the original film, which lets us know the first one never happened actually happened in this universe which to me feels a little cheap and used.

The main character is named Martin and he is one of the creepiest men to ever appear on film. He’s fat, toad-like, and never speaks. As he claims his first few victims this film keeps me on edge, thinking this could possibly go somewhere. Spoiler alert, it never does.

(Ladies?)

One by one and sometimes two by two Martin bludgeons his victims in the parking garage he works at. For some reason it is never explained what happens to the victim’s cars or how the police never receive reports from the families of these victims. As soon as maybe four victims are claimed I would think an officer of the law would realize there is something in common, all of these missing people parked in the same garage the night they went missing. The Human Centipede claims itself to be medically accurate. Try being logically accurate and maybe people would enjoy this film a bit more.

Martin is portrayed as an abuse victim obsessed with The Human Centipede film. He has a scrapbook about it and he watches it continuously on loop. All of this effort is put into worshiping a film. With all of this energy he could have written a great book or cured some incurable disease. I appreciate the effort Martin goes to loving the film, but considering this is a sequel to the film he’s worshiping, I found out it a little pretentious.

(He’s wearing glasses. I bet they’re not even prescription. So pretentious)

The main abusers in Martin’s life are his mother and his therapist. Not to say abuse ever makes sense, but his mother’s abuse makes a lot more sense than what his therapist does. The therapist openly admits to wanting to molest Martin, an overweight asthmatic in his 40s, while receiving oral sex from a prostitute in the garage Martin works at. How convenient. I think the most illogical thing here is that a therapist doesn’t make enough money to get a motel room. Martin’s mother is abusive in the more standard way. She blames Martin for his father’s death. His father deserved death because he sexually abused Martin. I found all of the molestation a little too much. What’s wrong with having a bad guy who is just plain evil? It works for Simon Cowell.

Basically this film is Martin beating people in the garage, taking them to his warehouse, going home and getting yelled at, and then repeating the cycle. Martin’s main goal with all of this kidnapping is to make the world’s longest human centipede which he assumes requires twelve people. The last time I checked my Guinness Book of World Records, two would have been long enough.

The final twenty-five minutes is finally about actually assembling the centipede. The shots are gruesome and a few still standout in my mind as memorable. Still, this doesn’t make up for the lack of a good plot, which the film had, they just executed it very poorly. The movie dragged and I found myself screaming at the computer “something happen already!” It was like watching the Jodie Foster film Contact only slightly better. Anything is better than Contact.

(The above image is the most offensive thing I have ever seen. My apologies. I had to make a point)

If I was in charge I would have done it differently. I would have had Martin obsessed not with a film, but with the crime story. Have it be an Urban Legend about the German doctor from the first film assembling these people together. Have Martin obsessed with a reality, not a film. The idea of imitating film can be unique, but in this case I would have preferred it if it was known that people were actually going out committing these heinous crimes. But what does my opinion matter? The last time I went to Red Lobster I got a hamburger.

Imperfections

Breaking news, I am not perfect. The most recent time when I shaved my head, I missed a spot behind my ears. I had to snip it off with some scissors. This is just one of the very few things I have not done perfectly in life.

Instead of putting myself down and listing out all of my imperfections, I am going to list out other people’s imperfections, most notably, imperfections girls have that I kind of like.

Pimple Scars: I wrote a whole post on pimple scars before and how I kind of like them. I know, weird. It’s not the pimple part or anything I like. It’s the scaring. That’s not it either. That makes it sound like I would have sex with Mickey Rourke. Keep in mind pimple scars are not good on everyone. They work best on ethnic girls or Amanda Bynes. They only work well on Amanda Bynes because I think someone needs to sand paper her face a bit she’s turning into such a bitch.

(Me? Obsessed with Amanda Bynes? No! You’re obsessed with my non-existent obsession!)

Alien Shaped Heads: One time I heard one person say to another person, “You’re so pretty! That’s weird because Guatemalans are usually so ugly.” If that isn’t a backhanded insult if I ever heard one. An Alien shaped head is essentially a girl with a big forehead. One of the prettiest girls in my middle school gained weight in high school and her forehead got bigger. One kid I knew called her The Predator. Admittedly, I kind of like these alien shaped head girls. When a girl’s head is too big for her body, I have to get to know her, at the very least to insure my protection once her family invades.

(Something like this)

Big Gums: There’s something about Mary, but there is also something about girls with big gums. I saw a girl on a train recently with big gums and huge bags under her eyes. I was getting ready to cut off a testicle to prove to her I was willing to commit. When I say big gums too I mean more in a Miley Cyrus way and less of a Butthead from Beavis and Butthead way. The big gums should rarely come out. When they do though, expect to see my smile.

(The longer I stare at it the more I appreciate Equus)

Shy: Is being shy an imperfection? Probably. Obesity is a disease now so shyness has to be an imperfection. I like shy people in general. It only becomes a problem when they don’t open up when the situation is a comfortable one. I like girls who are initially shy. It shows their insecurities and I have less to be afraid of when I say to her “Don’t just stare at it, eat it” when I get her on all fours. Or all fives. An extra arm or leg is another imperfection I may not mind.

(Look at her and how shy she is. Everything is left up to the imagination. Or maybe she’s cold. Yeah. I bet it’s the cold)

At Least One Chronic Painful Body Part: I would say my chronic pain comes from my left foot, my left knee, and my left hip. I think they’re all somehow related. It’s not that I want people to suffer, although some I do, but I like the idea of a girl not being able to do something that I can for her. Like a girl with a hurt shoulder will never ask me to play tennis with her. I hate tennis. It’s badminton for pussies.

(He’s making the right face. He’s not faking. Owww!)

Ditzy/Clumsy: Whoever I end up marrying better die when she steps off a ledge accidentally because she’s that dumb and clumsy. That’s all I have for this.

(Why does a ditzy girl have to look like the hemorrhoid in a hat with Cheeze Wiz hair?)

Too Perfect of Posture: Okay, maybe I’m cheating now because I don’t really have anything left and wanted to make this a little longer. I hate girls with no shoulders. Your upper half should not look so box-like. If it does, don’t go sleeveless. Do some wall-slides, whatever those are, or shoulder dislocations, I use an old Swiffer sweeper handle to do mine. Open up those shoulders before I write “fragile” on you then put you up in the attic.

(Perhaps he’s leaning forward because he’s afraid his twin brother behind him is going to hit him with a golf club? I don’t know what this has to do with anything. I just like their barbershop quartet hats)

What are some imperfections you like about people of the opposite sex?

Missed Connections

On Craigslist there is the thing called Missed Connections. It’s basically for people to post on whenever they see an attractive person and they are too afraid to do anything about it in person so they post online with the hope that the attractive person happens to be lonely and realize the post is about them. Sometimes I’ll read through Missed Connections and realize how the adjectives women use to describe men are never things I would use to describe me. Handsome? I’m more like “attainably all right.” Muscular? I would be “retired superhero.” That is to say, I’m starting to let myself go even though I never really was chiseled. I wanted to post on Missed Connections, but why should I? There are so many for the ladies to look through. I want mine to standout. So here are my Missed Connections from 7/16/2013.

Subject: Girl on a Scooter

(You looked like this except you were a woman and not dressed like Frankie Muniz)

Hey. You were a girl on a scooter. I saw you around 25th street at around 1:45. You are some kind of Italian or maybe you were just dirty. It was hard to tell. You look mean and dirty people tend to be nasty because they need a shower. I’m not sure if you saw me. I was the guy walking toward the bank. You probably didn’t know I was walking toward the bank because the bank was still a few more blocks away. You definitely saw me the next time though when you almost ran me over. I looked at your butt and so did a guy on a blue bike. You probably didn’t see him do it unless you have eyes on your butt. I hope you do not. That is strange. If this sounds like you then please reply.

Subject: Chubby Girl (He’s out of your league)

(I’m mean so I’m going to use a picture of Karen Carpenter as the chubby girl)

This is for the chubby girl who came out of a store. I don’t know what store it was. It sold things. You came out of the store and smiled at a tall an in shape man. That man was not me. I was the sweaty guy walking behind him. I think you were wearing a dress with some sort of flower pattern on it. I wasn’t paying attention. That guy was totally out of your league though. I thought you knew each other until you walked your separate ways. I’m not out of your league. Why get rejected by him? Please email me if this sounds like you.

Subject: Ghetto Hot Girl

(I hope this block party photo can lure you here)

Why do some ghetto girls who are really hot looking insist on being so trashy? I’m talking to you girl I saw! You were walking with a Spanish guy. Your eyes are really droopy and you talk strange. From far away you looked really pretty. Up close I could see you probably have killed a person. You’re also not black or Spanish. You are a white girl. Or maybe you are an albino black girl or albino Spanish girl. We didn’t talk and it is the first thing I wanted to ask. You also have big boobies. You were walking on the same street I live on so our relationship could work. Let me know.

Subject: Skinny Girl, Nice Butt, Weird Back Lean

(This but walking)

Are you a skinny girl with a nice butt that leans back weird? I saw another guy checking you out for a long time. He was thin and wearing gym clothes. He was still too big of a coward to say anything to you. He followed you for a few blocks. I wasn’t following you. I was following him to make sure you were safe. Please let me know that you are alive and if you need to go somewhere safe my bed is available. It’s very empty 😦

Subject: Indian Girl, Shorts, Train, Fat Guy Sat Next to You

(You weren’t nearly this attractive, but there’s time)

Hello Indian Girl. I think you’re Indian. You had on a lot of makeup so for all I know you are white. I thought you looked pretty and we made eye contact a few times on a train headed to New York. There was an open seat next to you with a cup of apple juice/urine in it on the seat. I’m not sure if this was yours. Anyway, I chose to stand because I have a back cyst and it’s really painful when there’s pressure on it. A few stops later a fat guy moved the cup then wiped the seat with his hand then sat next you. You looked upset. We continued to somewhat look at each other. You followed up looking at me by blinking like you had eye problems. Maybe you did. I saw you looking at my groin though. And yes, that was a pee stain. Let’s chat.

Subject: Are you 18?

(Your breasts however were not tormented by gravity)

Ha! I’m kidding. Of course you are. I just wanted to get your attention by thinking I was some online predator. You were wearing a “Security” shirt and you didn’t look very tough. You exited a train and you were really angry that everybody would slowly. Then you got stuck behind an Indian family. That seemed bad. Things got even worse when a Chinese man carrying a large back was in front of you on the stairs. You literally threw your hands up angry. You cut in front of me and I almost fell. But I did fall, head over heels in love with you. I thought maybe you were rushing to get to my apartment to wait in my bed nude for me. To my surprise you were not there. Anyone who can help me find this angry young woman in a rush would forever be indebted.

Subject: Amanda Bynes

(Can we all leave Amanda Bynes alone? This outfit proves she’s a Patriot and animal lover. Who else can say that about what they’re wearing?)

Whenever I go to New York City I look for you. I never see you though. What gives? I think you would be easy to spot. You’re bald and crazy with cheek piercings. I invited you to my friend Alan’s birthday party a few weeks ago over Twitter and you never responded. That hurts my feelings. I agree that Drake is ugly. Okay I don’t really know who Drake is. I have a family history of mental illness. I think if we made a baby our mental problems would cancel each other out. Is this you? Please respond.

Weeds

Another thing I wrote for that website that never ended up existing. My Review of the Television Show Weeds:

(Nice choice of characters to put here. Three of them aren’t even in half the series)

If all you did was look at the title, show description, and DVD covers, you would swear this was a show that could only be appreciated by potheads. I have smoked pot once in my life. I was 17, ‘twas the night before Christmas, and my mother yelled “fuck you” at me when I refused to help her set up the Christmas tree. What kind of mother does that? Everybody knows if you don’t set up your Christmas tree at least three weeks before Christmas then you damn well better be able to figure out how to do it on your own.

I only began to watch Weeds because a friend with good taste recommended it to me. Most of the people I have in my life have terrible taste. Being friends with me is the perfect example.

Weeds starts off in Season One with Nancy Botwin, played by the incredibly sexy Mary Louise Parker, already as a drug dealer. There’s no real origin story, although it’s clear why she got into the business. Her husband Judah died of a heart attack while jogging and dealing pot is the only way she can maintain the lifestyle her family had grown accustomed to.

(I am convinced she has the most perfect nose int he world. I bet her creepy uncles were always taking it when she was younger)

Nancy has two sons who are there with her throughout the series. Silas is the older son and Shane is the younger one. Silas is confident, handsome, and has the drive to do great things. Throughout the series we watch as he goes from a stud high school student with only a few insecurities into a stud man who on the inside might still be a little bit of a child. Shane is a lot different from Silas. We learn quickly that Shane might be a psychopath. He does have the same drive and adventurous spirit as his older brother which helps him survive in the chaotic world his mother has created for the family.

In addition to the immediate family, Uncle Andy Botwin enters the picture a few episodes into the show. At first I found him annoying. He seemed to get everything to go his way despite never trying very hard in life. Over time I grew to absolutely love Uncle Andy. When same sex marriage with fictional characters is legal, I plan on being Andy’s bride.

(Left to right: Silas, Nancy, Shane, Andy, my invisible friend Manny that only I can see in pictures)

Along with an endless colorful cast of characters, the Botwins get into every adventure you could imagine a family could when drugs are involved. From dealing with the police, secret agents, the Armenian mafia, thugs, the Mexican drug cartel, and Nacy’s inability to keep her pants on around men, the family is never at a loss for trouble.

Weeds is a show that goes to places you could never imagine it would. The first three seasons all takes place in their small California suburb Agrestic where everyone becomes a doctor, a lawyer, or a business executive. Nancy’s only real trouble comes from her evil friend Celia who is a big antagonist throughout much of the series. Once Nancy gets the drug business down better, Celia is less of a threat as all she can really do is get the rest of the PTA to turn on Nancy.

Another memorable and loveable character from this show is Doug Wilson played by Saturday Night Live alum Kevin Nealon. He plays the shittiest accountant ever which doesn’t say much considering the current economic downturn we have been experiencing for the last forever many years. Doug starts off as a less than important character with some great lines and some good B-plots. Eventually he joins along for the full ride, going with the Botwins wherever they travel to. His love of marijuana is the main thing that calls him to stay around Nancy. After all, there’s nothing better than MILF Weed.

(That’s right TBS fans! The host of the Funniest Commercials or whatever that lame show was called is on this show)

After eight seasons on air, Weeds completed its story last summer. The show goes so many places both with the character development and in the show’s main setting. It’s cleverly written to a point where the seriousness of danger melds perfectly with the comedy. This is sometimes a terribly depressing show as death, rejection, and hating your family are some of the main themes.

Nancy Botwin might possibly be the worst mother ever. Perhaps her biggest crime is we don’t get to see her naked until Season Four. It doesn’t matter if you have ever smoked pot or what your opinion on marijuana even is. This show is not about dealing drugs. This show is about a family, their friends, their enemies, and what happens to them because the mom has refused to get a normal job.

This show is must see. The style is unique and you will find yourself at times hating the main character because of how selfish she can be yet you will still love her anyway. But isn’t that how we feel about our own families? They can say “fuck you” to us all they want on Christmas Eve. We still show up because we love them.