Vlogs

A vlog is a video blog. So basically it’s a short movie nobody cares about. The only successful ones are the ones featuring an attractive girl who looks underage. I am not this. Instead of trying hard to make an interesting video, I have made this about a boring life event that happened to me recently. It was a lazy thing to do and I have felt very lazy lately.

Brief Updates

No. I will not be giving you updates on the state of my underwear. You get it? Because some people call underwear briefs…

Clearly I haven’t been attending classes at the Upright Citizen’s Brigade Theater with that attempt at humor. And by that I mean it’s impossible to be funny without first paying a couple hundred dollars for a class. And after you graduate that class you WILL BE funny, even if you never have been. Not.

So what have I been up to? I’m clearly not blogging much, if you didn’t already notice. Or at least not as consistently as I have. What have I been up to?

I work just about every day, sometimes weekends too. When I work weekends it’s staying inside a luxury Manhattan apartment watching television and playing with dogs. It’s as bad as it sounds, not really at all.

When I am not working, I have been attempting to write other things. I do so much writing at work by the time I get home I don’t have the energy do much else other than eat. Food is supposed to give you energy, but it never gives me much. I think I might be doing it wrong.

My fantasy baseball team collapsed and barely made the playoffs, then got bounced out in the first round. My other fantasy baseball team is in the finals, but they are not doing very well. I also have a fantasy football team now and it has me interested in the sport for the first time ever. I don’t know what this has to do with anything. None of this takes up much time.

I also had someone mail me a birthday card already. My birthday isn’t for a few more weeks though. It was a pretty awesome card and includes hand-sketched pictures of me. This is much better than in past years when people would give me butt-sketched birthday cards.

I have still consistently been submitting to Yahoo. Some of the articles are pretty good and mean while others are boring and pay money. If you feel so compelled, here is the entire listing of my Yahoo articles.

I think the moral of the story here is that I don’t have much to complain about. I’m actually pretty happy. Yuck.

Bad Book Reviews

I randomly decided to check the reviews on things I have up on Amazon when I came across this gem:

1 Star – Like being patronized to by a moron, August 21, 2013

By S.W.W. – See all my reviews

This review is from: Silence: My Worst Stand-Up Comedy

Tim is a man who represents everything wrong with the world of amateur stand-up comedy. He performs infrequently, believes he is above the shows he performs at, makes fun of other comedians who are different than him in any way, is frequently hypocritical, and expresses sexist, racist, and homophobic viewpoints. Most importantly, he is not funny, and simply resorts to making disgusting shock jokes without any clarity, set-up or context. If the audience didn’t laugh because you made a joke about performing fellatio on your father, that’s probably not their fault. His writing style conveys not just an immaturity, but an anti-maturity, an attitude that claims that things must change for him if he wants to achieve his goals, and if they don’t, there must be something wrong with them, and I will take my toys and leave. He has done the world of comedy a favor by retiring. He could never handle the business because it requires a thick skin and a sense of modesty. He is a blogger, and I imagine the experience of his blog is akin to attending the daycare room of a Klan rally. The editing is poor. Chapters are largely redundant, ideas are half-baked, and nearly every paragraph ends with a snarky sentence recapping the paragraph with a joke about fecal matter, homophobic stereotypes, or slut-shaming. Tim stole a dollar of my money, but the advice I give him now will be much more valuable – never return.

The review was left almost a month ago and I finally saw it now which shows you how little I care what other people think now. Anyway, I decided to write an answer that they will never see.

Dear S.W.W.

Thank you for the honest review. Let me start by thanking you for only leaving negative reviews on Amazon, your only other one being for $16 headphones you bought that arrived broken. I really hope you found another solution to watching episodes of The Big Bang Theory without waking your mother.

Stop me if I’m wrong, but you seem like a frustrated road comedian. By that I mean you remind me of people stuck in career purgatory. I have no doubt there are a million comedians better than I ever was or could be and you are probably one of them. Stand-up comedy is a tough business and as you said, I did not have the thick skin to survive in it. After all, I was still in high school and had no clue what I was doing. Most high schoolers don’t. If I was to start it now I probably would have been smarter about a lot of things. However, with this bloated wisdom comes the realization that I would probably have to deal with people like you and I don’t want that, especially when I know I could never be the best, which is what this book was about more than anything, giving up when you know you suck.

I apologize if you did not quite understand the message behind the book like others seemed to no problem. The book is self-deprecating and at no point did I want the impression to be that I think I am better than anyone else, other than maybe midgets but only in the sense that I can reach things more easily. I made it a point not to attack anyone personally, unless I felt they were unfair to me. The book was meant to be about everything I did wrong and me essentially making fun of what a shit I was/still am. I am always very general when I make fun of things because few people deserve to be directly attacked.

Sexist, racist, and homophobic viewpoints? Unfortunately this was not a book about my viewpoints on life. This was a book about feeling awkward and failing miserably at something I thought for sure I would succeed at. Sure, there are jokes about women. There are jokes about people of different races. There are jokes about men having sex with other men. I would give you specific examples, but after reading your poor review of my material I feel like it would be a waste of time to read my own work because it sounds like shit. I have no doubt you and others were offended by this at times and I really don’t care because anonymous people who only post negative reviews online offend me. Let’s call that part of this even. If I had seen a positive review on your Amazon account I would have taken your words more seriously. Instead I think you are nothing more than a negative nelly. Actually, I think you are a lot more than that, but I don’t want to end this paragraph with a snarky joke about fecal matter, you piece of shit.

We clearly do not have similar senses of humor and that’s okay. I would probably only ever find you funny as you cry for your family to visit you as you rot away on your deathbed, alone. I’m sure your biggest problem with me is that something hit close to home or you felt attacked personally as to who you are. Stop caring so much about yourself. You are anonymous online and will be anonymous in life. I would be lying if I didn’t say your negative review bothered me because it does. I want everyone to like me and really, that is often a downfall. At the same time I know the people who do like me know what a horrible human being I am. They know I make sexist jokes, racist jokes, and homophobic jokes. You seem like someone who would not be fun to hangout with because this is kind of what people do, we make jokes with each other about everything.

Finally, let me point out the obvious. Who buys a book without at least reading a part of it? You would have known within a few paragraphs if this was something you should have purchased or not. Do you blow a guy before knowing his name? That’s not fair. I resorted to a sexual joke. I also don’t know if you are male or female, not that it’s a bad thing if you are a male and blow other males. See, I’m learning to be less homophobic because you called me out, anonymously. Oddly enough I have also sold more books since your review so thanks for making it look more like it wasn’t my friends leaving reviews with your glaring negative one. Please never do return again. People like you are not necessary for my master plan of putting out poorly edited books that shame sluts. Isn’t calling someone a slut shaming them already? That’s all. You will never see this. I also don’t like how you called me a blogger like it was a bad thing. Then you compared it to a KKK Daycare? I’m immature? Who says that someone has to be mature to write a book? Grr you are my least favorite person ever. I’m going to go beat my children now.

Sincerely,

Tim

P.S. Thank you for the dollar!

P.P.S. I actually only received 35 cents because Amazon earned the other 65. So thank you for the 35 cents.

Fake Racist News Stories

Inventor of the “N-Word” Upset over Lack of Royalties

Modern American society has made the “N-Word” a dirty one to use. When inventor of the original word Earl Patterson first coined the word in 1845 during a card game, he immediately realized he had struck oil.

“I was onto something. It just came out of my mouth and felt right,” said Patterson. “Me and the boys [other racist gold miners] always needed some word to use and I came up with it all on my own.”

Like many other inventors, Patterson began to receive royalty checks from the United States Government for coming up with such a useful term at the time. Patterson had a trademark and used his new word to help him get endorsement deals with the Kellog’s Company, the second K in the notorious group the KKK.

“Life was easy after that. I quit my job and started doing advertisements. My grandchildren’s children would be set as long as someone didn’t come around to ruin it.”

Someone did come around to ruin it. Patterson who had been receiving one gold coin each time anyone ever uttered the actual full “n-word” had of all people Thomas Edison after his fortune.

“I knew Edison was a dick and all. Everybody did. He was named after a crappy town in Jersey. How could he not suck?” said Patterson.

Thomas Edison, best known for being a thieving dick, saw he could not simply steal the paten Patterson had on the word. Instead Edison made it so usage of the actual word would be seen as intolerant and bad. Edison then paid for the rights to the shortened and edited version, “n-word.” After successfully seizing up the rights to the loophole in using a derogatory word, Edison began receiving more checks than Patterson.

“Nobody wants to get called a racist anymore,” said Patterson. “They are more likely to say Edison’s version than mine.”

Patterson attempted to have lawyers contact Edison to work out a deal where they could share both words since they essentially mean the same thing and one is not more racist than the other when you really think about it and what should really matter is context more than anything else. Edison did not respond to any of Patterson’s inquiries. Since 1931, Thomas Edison has been M.I.A. to the public, Missing In being Alive.

A spokesperson for Edison, his great-grandson Trevor Edison, said that Edison never intended to screw over Patterson. Thomas Edison’s only intent was to make as much money as possible and project a much cuter image than the truth to his name.

As far as the claim that Patterson is a racist goes, he had this to say–

“Yes I am a racist. I grew up in the 1800s. Everyone from that era hated black people and I found a way for the hate to be a little less violent. Do I feel bad about it? Sure. But don’t judge me on this one achievement. All I did was come up with a word that we have all used at least once with our car windows rolled up.”

(Earl Patterson, inventor of the N-Word)

Back Cysts & Dog Pictures

Sometime in mid-July I had a really bad back cyst pop up. Maybe this was even closer to the beginning of July. I don’t exactly track my back cysts like a slutty girl tracks her periods to make sure she’s not pregnant or menopausing early. At first I thought this was nothing more than a mega-pimple because I had a pimple in that spot for a while already. The position of this cyst was in the one place on my back I couldn’t possibly latch onto and pop so that’s why I let what I thought was a pimple just sit there instead of popping it early on. At one point I noticed the object growing and soon after I would enter some kind of hell.

I forget what happened that week, but it was a particularly bad one. I wasn’t getting any replies from any jobs I applied for and having nothing planned for the rest of my life was starting to get to me. Then this cyst came along and not only did it grow, it became tender and painful. I tried to pop it and got a little bit of the puss out. If you have ever dealt with a cyst you will know it smells terrible. It’s like farting into the mouth of someone with bad breath then having them suck on your nose. Why you would ever do this is a mystery to me, but I try not to judge.

Clearly I was not going to be able to get all of the puss out so I looked for other solutions online like I should have in the first place. It was then that I realized I was definitely dealing with a cyst and not a simple pimple. I discovered quickly that the worst thing you can do for a cyst is pop it because this can lead to an infection and cause the thing to grow even larger when it comes back for vengeance. The two best remedies I found online were to put ice on it to reduce swelling and to compress a hot wash cloth on it to get the cyst to drain. It’s like how they tell you to always be nice to women but how women only respond to you when you’re mean to them but when you are too mean they say they wish you were nicer. It was very confusing advice.

(“He told me to go fuck myself. I’m so in love.” – a confusing woman)

I spent about 4 days lying in bed trying to treat my cyst which at this point became so painful that when a shirt touched it I would start crying. At first I tried icing it and got no results so I switched to the heated wash cloth. I would lie on this hot wash cloth while watching Parks and Recreation on Netflix partly wishing I would die and partly thinking I already had. A little red bump on a back should not get this out of hand and be this painful.

A new week began and the cyst was still there, bigger and redder than before. Then things turned around completely. I finally got called in for a job interview. After stuttering through the brief interview process and bringing nothing to the table, I was asked to come back later in the week where I was given an immediate promotion that included more hours, my own office, and higher pay. The only downside is I think a few of my coworkers may hate me because part of the job is going on Facebook. I shouldn’t care though because having people hate you isn’t nearly as bad as having a painful back cyst.

As soon as I was hired I noticed something happen to my back cyst. It was draining on its own and after two weeks all signs of it were gone. The pain went away and my back has returned to looking like a normal 40 year old man’s back. I think I know the moment it began too. I leaned against something on the train and felt an incredibly pain in my back then a peace. It was better than my first orgasm because this didn’t involve apologizing to my grandma for ruining her sweater.

 (And yet she still wears the sweater…)

So where am I now? My back cyst is gone and I have a job I kind of like. I mean, I haven’t been there all too long and I still have the chance to hate it, but for now it’s nice. The only downside so far is that I have less time to do things I really enjoy doing and I’m exhausted all of the time. I slept 12 hours the Friday night after my first full week. I am getting more exercise though as I have to walk about three miles total each day I work so this is an excuse to eat more.

The best part about the job though is that I get to be around dogs. I’m not around them as much the other people there, but they do occasionally come into the office to hang out with me.

 

 

 

 

 

This isn’t what I would like to do for the rest of my life, but for now it’s pretty darn good. Then again, this might just be post-back cyst pleasure talking.

Good Old-Fashioned Orgies

My review of the film A Good Old-Fashioned Orgy. Don’t expect too many compliments.

From the creative minds of a lot of recognizable faces, but names no casual comedy fan will really remember, comes the story of a group of friends trying to live the American Dream. Scholars will say the American Dream is to have a loving spouse, healthy children, and a fulfilling job. Those things are all fine and dandy for some people. For me, I just want to be involved in an orgy. It’s not even so much being involved in the orgy as much as I would like to be invited to one. What’s wrong with me that this has never happened? Are my friends this boring? Are good old-fashioned orgies something that only happens in a film?

A Good Old Fashioned Orgy was pretty much what I expected. The film stars Saturday Night Live cast member Jason Sudeikis as Eric, an average guy who loves having energetic parties at his father’s house in the Hamptons. For those of you not familiar with the Hamptons, this is where rich people in New York spend their weekends and think up new ways to screw over the poor. An anonymous source tells me they’re thinking about eating us next.

When Eric finds out his father has put the house on the market, he freaks out a bit. This will be the last summer him and his motley crew of friends have to throw their awesome parties. It’s a little hard for me to feel sympathetic for their situation. The last party I was invited to was after a funeral and I think I was only invited because I was mistaken for someone else. I guess I just have one of those faces.

Eric’s best friend, the overly sexual and overweight Mike, hatch up a plan to have an orgy with their best friends. At first everyone is reluctant to join in. The promise of sex though seems to be enough for some once they begin to realize an orgy with your friends is not so strange. The characters in this film have known each other since high school. What’s there to really talk about at this point? That’s the beauty of sex. You don’t have to lie about being a doctor when you’re doing it. Of course you have to lie about being one in order to get it usually, right? Please tell me I am not the only one.

(This could easily be Photoshopped into making me more attractive to the opposite sex)

The first portion of the film follows as Eric and Mike try to convert the others. With personal problems arising in the lives of others, they see an orgy as the only thing to cure what ails them. The process shows just how close these friends really are. I have enough trouble getting my friends to accept Facebook friend requests. Maybe I should introduce myself to them in real life and stop referring to people I look at through a binocular’s gaze as a friend.

There are three staggering issues I have with this film. I use the word staggering because I have never used it before and it’s on my bucket list. Also on my bucket list, eating lunch tomorrow. I set my goals low so I can actually achieve them.

My first problem with the film is it isn’t very funny. There are certainly jokes throughout, most just aren’t all that great. I laughed out loud a few times which I believe is a requirement of a comedy. Being able to recognize humor is different than actually feeling humor. You can say someone is ugly, but until you’ve puked thinking about their face, are they really?

(I used to think Sandra Bernhard was Julia Roberts when she was going through a dark phase in her life)

Second, this movie is about an orgy and there is no nudity other than a fat man’s ass until nearly the end. Nothing against man-ass, I’m just not that into you. We see one pair of breasts and even those don’t last very long. If you plan to watch this movie for the boobs, don’t. I watch every movie for the boobs which is a bad habit I have. Let’s agree to never do it again because we always leave disappointed, don’t we?

Probably the most important thing that bugged me about this movie was the plot. The simple having an orgy thing was fine. The subplot was what really was half-assed. Eric ends up interested in one of the realtors trying to sell his father’s house. She’s incredibly forgiving whenever he behaves like an idiot which really annoyed me because I act like an idiot all the time and everyone always runs. Sometimes they even grab a cab if it’s not rush hour. The whole plot with Eric and the realtor is incredibly underdone. At no point did I care if they ended up together. They also seemed like two people who never really bothered to get to know each other. I want a relationship in a film, even one mainly about an orgy, to be realistic. Show the flaws, the insecurities, and the boring nonsense we all have to do when we get to know someone.

Punk Rock Bands

I recently got a new job. Technically this was the second job I have ever gotten, the first where nepotism was in no way involved. In fact, I didn’t know anywhere there. I didn’t even know the name of the company when I got a phone call about coming in. Without getting too into detail about the job so you can’t hunt me down and have sex with me at work, I get to sit at a desk while petting dogs all day. How great is that? I have other duties too like posting cute animal pictures on Facebook and running the business aspect of the business. I am very modest, but I can in all honesty say if I were to decide to just leave this business that it would fall apart. Admittedly, the power makes me much more obnoxious around others.

The new job requires me to wake up early, walk a lot, and commute on the train to get there. The train is unfortunately too ass-to-ass crowded that I can’t really do much except sniff other people’s armpits. Worse yet, my phone loses service halfway through the trip once we go underground. I’m left with doing the one thing I can do on my phone, making notes.

Each opportunity I get to make these clever notes I plan to make lists. One day while traveling I made a list of lists to make. The first list I made was possible punk rock band names. The real key to a good punk rock band name is to be offensive, in your face, and a little bit ironic. Looking off my phone, here is the list of possible names for my non-existent band. The majority of these were just the most offensive things I could think of without being openly vicious, or sometimes I forgot how to filter myself.

(I’m using this picture in hopes it will annoy at least one person because they will think I consider Paramore a punk band)

-The Young Career Women

-The 9/11 Hijackers

-Remind the Teacher About the Homework

-The Flatchested Hooters Waitresses

-Europeans Traveling Abroad

-Fans of Michael Vick

-That Guy Who Doesn’t Call You Back

-Your Funny Fat Friend

-Adam Sandler Movies

-Pack of 20-Year-Old Italians

-The Newton Shooting Cover-Up

-The Columbine Class of ’99 Orchestra

-DMV

-The Confident Fat Guys in Drag

-Pre-Op Tranny

-Sibling Sexual Tension

-Willem Dafoe’s Face

-Uterus Cyst

-George Zimmerman Hero Fund

-Fox News

-Jesus Christ Wasn’t Real

-Untitled Madea Movie

-Chimney Dildos

-Adam Walsh Head of Lettuce

-Sex in Marriage

-Hysterectomy Repeats Itself

-Betting Pete Rose’s Life

-The John Lennon Bulletproof Foreheads

-Smashmouth Coverband

-Mustache Food

-The Sandusky Kids

-My Big Fat Greek Foreskin

-Drunk Driving Accident with the Prom Queen

-Cigarettes for Your Health

-Kony

-Public Bowel Movement

-Semi-Faked Orgasm

-Friend Zone 4 Life

-Bruised Testicles

-The Black Son-in-Laws

-Abe Lincoln Poo

-Felching for More

What would your incredibly offensive/grotesque/never able to join the mainstream because of its name punk rock band go by?

Fake News Stories

I wrote a few fake news stories. I probably will continue to whenever I have an “interesting” idea. I’ll post them every once in a while so this site doesn’t become a shitty version of The Onion. I guess that would be called The Tater Tot? Well, no. If it was called The Onion Ring then I could call it The Tater Tot. Luckily I don’t have to come up with a name because this is just some random feature I’m going to do.

“Man Excited Over American Tragedies”

For forty-five year old Flushing resident Howard Johnson, watching the first ten minutes of the nightly news is not bothersome. The gruesome details of death, carnage, and other tragedy do not get him down. In fact, Johnson looks forward to these events. Some nights, they work as his Viagra.

“I’ve been called just about every name in the book. It doesn’t make me a monster. It makes me a man looking for job security.”

Johnson has worked the last eleven years at his local library as man who raises and lowers the American flag in front. Previously, he had been the man who emptied the trash cans, but asked for the promotion to flag raiser when he married his wife Francine.

“I got laid all the time when I was emptying those trash cans,” said Johnson. “It was like working in the porn industry only I never had to take any acting classes. Everyone wants to sleep with the guy who does what no one else is willing to do. I no longer needed a job that is a heartthrob position now that I had Francine.”

At first Johnson felt like the rest of us whenever he had to lower the flag. The same sorrow we feel when we hear about a tragedy coursed through his veins. At some point, things changed. The economy completely fell apart and Johnson’s job was in jeopardy.

“You would think being named after a hotel chain would give me some clout somewhere. I’m also named after a New York Met. That was two things I had going for me. Still, nobody seemed to care whenever I added it to my resume looking for a new job.”

Eventually Johnson came to embrace his job. In fact, he hoped for tragedy in the news.

“I would catch him praying at night,” said wife Francine. “He would ask God to do some dirty work. Never anything too sinister. He wanted an ex-president or one of them Negro basketball players to die of a drug overdose.”

Smaller local tragedies such as the death of beloved homeless woman Eileen Barkan in 2004 brought Johnson to tears. He considered leaving the job to work elsewhere.

“I couldn’t leave Flushing,” said Johnson. “The name reminds me too much of a toilet and at the end of the day, knowing I live in a place with a ridiculous name always give me a good laugh no matter how bad my day was.”

In recent years, when access to guns has been as easy as ever and maniacs are plentiful, Johnson has come to appreciate his job more than ever. Worried that his job is limited to only working the days when someone is unjustifiably killed by man or a higher power, Johnson devised a plan to up his hours at work.

Johnson is the co-creator of the ‘Get Guns Back in Our Schools’ program. In his spare time he travels to local schools preaching about how guns are the best way to solve problems. Schools were reluctant at first to let him speak, until they realized that one gunshot solves problems quicker, and much in a more silent manner.

“I don’t necessarily believe everything I preach. I have a family to feed though. Me, my wife Francine, and our nineteen cats must eat in order to survive. The way I see it, it’s us or them. The more of them that die, the more expensive cat food I can buy. Pretty cool how I made it rhyme there huh?”

The Get Guns Back in Our Schools initiative has been met with negativity. Principal Joseph H. Schlavin III of Richard Head Middle School described it as a “dickless-move by a prick-face cocksucker.”

“I don’t care what people think about me,” said Johnson. “I’m named after a New York Met, remember? I don’t even respect myself.”

In the coming months, Johnson plans to expand his love of death to others. Along with his wife Francine, they plan to get into the ribbon making industry. They have already patented turquoise ribbons to represent supporting teenagers who have fallen victim to sexually transmitted diseases. Clearly, Johnson is not just in the game of death. He will capitalize on any bad news that he can.

“People will support anything these days. I would be a fool to think they would not give me $5.99 for a poorly made ribbon where only a couple of pennies even go to helping a high school cheerleader get her gonorrhea medicine.”

Until the project gets off the ground, Johnson will hope for daily deaths to you and everyone you love to keep allowing him to raise that library flag.

“I never set out to be the bad guy. It’s just the way things turned out. I will see you all in hell.”