Posts Tagged ‘michael elgin’

What makes a good Facebook friend? If I could ask God one question it would probably be that. I mean, why overwhelm the guy? He might even be like, “Oh shit Tim. Me damn that’s a good question.” Rather than answer this near impossible question, I’m going to tell you a little bit about my favorite and least favorite Facebook friends.

Least Favorite:

Guy who likes all of his statuses, pictures, and was Catfished into a relationship. I first saw he was in a relationship with a bombshell I opened my window, stuck my head outside, and judged whether or not it was high enough for me to die if I jumped out. Then logic sent in and I knew he was probably just having a prank pulled on him by some lonely person. I’m also not a fan of the guy in general because during the first week of sixth great he threatened to beat me up. Why am I Facebook friends with him? The same reason I look at pictures of plane crashes on Google images, to cheer myself up.

Favorite:

Former Major League Baseball pitcher and the last one to win over 30 games in a season, Denny Mclain. This guy is a nut. He’s been to prison a bunch of times for white collar crimes like being better at winning money while betting on sports than you could ever dream. What’s great about him on Facebook is instead of replying to people who post on his Wall he will update his status with things like “Thank you” then sign his name. He must do this 8 times a day. Trust me. It’s a lot more fun than I make it sound.

denny_mc_lain

(Denny Mclain displaying the horrors of metabolism with age)

Least Favorite:

The latest girl to delete me as a friend. I’m not sure why she deleted me. I’m not sure why she even stopped talking to me. We got along great. I touched her elbow and she said she liked it. We were texting and she went with a friend to get frozen yogurt with the promise she would text me after. No text was sent until a few days later when I asked how she was. Then she pretty much disappeared, moved to another country, and deleted me from Facebook. Can you believe this isn’t the first time a girl I liked moved to another country within three months after meeting her? My fuckin’ life.

Favorite:

No one compares to The Unbreakable Michael Elgin. Michael Elgin is an independent wrestler from Canada whose status updates filled with typos and references to how much weight he can lift always lift my spirits. The best storyline he ever had going on his Facebook was when he was getting his mother, Mama Elgin, to do squats with him. Did you know she was asked to be in the movie Over the Top and had to decline because she was preggers with The Unbreakable Michael Elgin? Bet you didn’t!

michael elgin

(He’s unbreakable until it comes to a game of Scrabble. Then he completely collapses)

Least Favorite:

The least funny person I am Facebook friends with is someone I have never met. It’s a male who for some reason added a bunch of comedians a few years back, probably to fill his own unfunny hole. He’s a swell guy, but his jokes are terrible. I think he wanted to be a stand-up comedian and realized he couldn’t because he has the comedic timing of Flight 93. I know I used that joke somewhere else before. It’s just so specific I had to use it again. Once I commented on a status of his and he seemed really snoody. I only remain friends with him as a reminder that there are things more upsetting than funerals.

Favorite:

I got my least favorite comedian out of the way so let’s get to my favorite. Few people can say they’ve dined with their favorite comedians without having to pay money to a charity auction. I’m one of these people. I am Facebook friends with none other than comedian Alan Schwartz. You may remember him from his 1980s comedy special “Parakeets Galore.” I asked Mr. Schwartz where he came up with the title to this legendary comedy album.

“Parakeets Galore is something the rambling lunatic you saw at that one open mic once said in his set. He was talking about a pet store or something like that, but for some reason when he said it in his incoherent ramble; I decided that would be my album or comedy special.” – an edited version of what was said so Alan doesn’t get hunted down and killed

parakeets galore

(Enough parakeets to be measured in a “galore” amount)

Who are your favorite and least favorite Facebook friends?

I forget what year it was. Maybe 10th grade? A girl who looked like a frog walked into my class and told me to smile more, life‘s not so bad. I didn’t listen to her. What does she know? She’s a young teenage girl. She bases her favorite music on which bands have the most bleach tips in their hair. Her favorite movie is whatever she saw this past weekend. Everything else has slipped her mind. Looking back now at everything she had a point. Life’s not so bad. I should have smiled more. Even if the teacher would frequently forget my name, the one kid who I tried to make friends with was afraid of me due to my largeness, and only the Haitian girl in class showed me any friendship, there was plenty to smile about.

(Thank you friend. Your advice has stuck with me through the years)

Frogface is not the only person who thinks smiling is a good thing. I have read online articles about it too. They claim smiling can help you attract a mate. It’ll help you land a better job. Smiling helps form rainbows. I believe smiling is positive because it lets others know you’re happy. I want to be happy! I want to be around people who are happy too. Not super happy. People who are only happy enough where they enjoy their misery. That level of happiness is where I want to rot away and die alone with. When you smile you let everyone know you’re not thinking about brain tumors. Who wants to talk to someone who randomly thinks about brain tumors? Not me. Too depressing.

I think I have a nice smile. I think it so often then I take a picture of myself scowling and I’ll think how badass I look. I go through a phase of never smiling after that. Children cower. Renegade bikers dive into alley ways to avoid me. Police officers quit their jobs. There’s no serving or protecting with me around. I’m a one man army. After a while I’ll smile again. The process repeats. I cannot stop smiling. Usually it’s thinking about the pain of others, but it’s still smiling. Still, charming. Still, helping to light up the world and warm the oceans a little bit more.

 (This is too precious. Even though he hates dogs, every time Michael Vick is sacked or throws an interception, this cute little kitty gives us this image)

Unfortunately not everyone has a smile that could impregnate a virgin beaver like I do. A bad smile is usually in the teeth. People with big teeth, gross teeth, yellow teeth, whatever kind of teeth not perfect will have bad smiles. Lack of dimples hurts too. Everyone wants to kiss someone with dimples. I have amazing dimples. I could squeeze a quarter in there. A good smile is one of those things which can make or break a person. On a shallow level of course. But when have I ever not been shallow? A good smile is the difference between overlooking other flaws or not. Who wants to date someone with a bad smile? That’s only a good idea if you plan on making them miserable. Didn’t Seinfeld date a girl with a bad laugh? I’ve only seen the show sporadically. I know he’s real into women with shoulder pads.

(My favorite Seinfeld episode was the one where he got his date confused with Brian Urlacher due to the similar size in shoulders)

When a girl smiles at me I smile back. It’s something I don’t even think about. It just happens. I know, you’re thinking I’m always being smiled at and whatnot. I’m actually not. I chalk it up to being so intimidating. I’ve got shoulders Atlas would be jealous of. And he has a shoulder muscle named after him! I’m one of those people who enters the room and everyone shushes. They turn to each other and with whispers inform each other who I am. A few bow. Others hound me for autographs. Okay, so I’m exaggerating. With the popularity of 50 Shades of Grey I’m thinking about writing my own fan fiction to please myself. The story centers around everyone being amazed and wanting to touch me. Sounds bad? They said the same thing about Timecop and that was the highest grossing Jean Claude Van Damme movie when it came out.

 (The best part in Timecop. When the Michael Rapaport bad guy look-alike gets his arm frozen then kicked off. This actually took place on my birthday so it’s pretty near and dear to me)

My aim is to try to smile more in life. I do not come off as a very friendly person. Ever. I actually am not friendly either. I’m nice. Just not friendly. The difference is a friendly person will go up to you and say hi. A nice person doesn’t poop in your shoe when you’re showering. I could never poop in a shoe. I’d feel like I would have to fill up the whole thing. Mighty large work! So with that said, maybe I should not smile more. I should probably smile the same amount I have always smiled. If I’m always smiling people will think I’m friendly. Then they’ll be upset when I make analogies about shoe pooping. Friendly people don’t poop. They’re so full of shit.

“Smile, you’ve got French’s!” – advertisement for French’s mustard and what Eva Braun would tell Hitler when he was feeling down for not fully controlling Europe

Terrible things happen every single day. Every day someone’s best friend dies. Can you imagine? All 364 days in the year (I’m not buying into that Roman 365 days crap) someone loses their best mate forever. Other bad things happen too. Countries get invaded. Pets get sucked into airplane propellers. Cell phones drop in toilets. All devastating, but all occurring on a daily basis. My vow I plan to take, no longer asking for pity from others.

It’s tough. I’ve always been one of those people who tries to “one up” the others in how bad their life is. My whole family is the same way. It’s like that one scene from that one Lethal Weapon movie when they compare scars. When my family does it things don’t end on hot, compassionate, violent sex. Most the times at least it doesn’t. What makes someone try to make their life sound so bad? Well, it gets pity. Pity gives an emotion. Having people feel bad for you can be a drug. It’s a childish thing. To want to hear “Awww” then be hugged because you ordered something spicy at a restaurant and don’t have enough beverage to chase it. I use that example because it is one I’m sure someone in my family has tried. We really are a bundle of Non-Joyful Debbie Downers.

(I make way too many Lethal Weapon references despite never actually watching a whole one through. I blame the Six Flags stunt show)

My clan is not the only guilty party in this. Oh no child. Lots of people are. The one which really gets my goat is when people complain about work. Either their boss is a dick or they cannot go out and party because their schedule was changed last-minute. Your life is that fantastic your biggest complaint is you have to make more money? What would you have done with that time anyway? Gone out to eat and gotten fatter? At least now you have a few extra bucks. But of course you will be cheap anyway when people ask you if you want to actually do something interesting. Maybe it’s me, but I’d rather do one amazing thing per year than a lot of time-wasting money costing events. I’d give examples, but I am the last person who should give examples of things that are not fun. I think I could fall asleep looking at earth from outer space.

 (You see beauty and how precious life can be. I see an ice-cube or cracked nail up close)

Sympathy is something I have also had a little bit trouble understanding. Or is it empathy? I’m really not clear on the difference. Like alligators and crocodiles. I know one lives in salt water. But by the time I get close enough to sip the water I’m being chased by the alligator or crocodile and I forget which lives where. People try to get a lot of sympathy for the way they live their lives. They will make mention of how sick they feel or how little they have eaten lately. As much as I hate people who shop at Whole Foods, they take care of themselves. They only complain about ozone layer holes and other exaggerations. People who eat well and exercise feel really good. Physically and emotionally. I know I go crazy if I go a while without exercise, especially when my diet has been half brownies. So please, if you’re near me and you feel like shit and there is not a salad in front of your face, shut it.

One of my biggest peeves on this subject are people who try to get me to feel bad for them based on the people in their lives. Example, people who use their parents as a barricade. I know my parents were never strict, but I have a hard time believing someone who can vote, possibly drink, and knows not only what a Cleveland Steamer is but also where to get one, will allow themselves to get pushed around by someone three times their age. Yeah, some people have scary parents. I had someone tell me to call their dad sir. Unless you’re Paul McCartney’s daughter you have no reason for people to call your father sir. He didn’t earn a thing. If someone ever tells me to call them sir again I’m forcing them to call me doctor. When they don’t I’m punching them in the face. Who are the cops going to believe? A guy who goes around thinking he’s a knight? Probably not.

(All those years at medical school and Dr. Doomsday becomes a super villain. Imagine how the people he gave prostate exams to feel now)

I don’t own too many nice things. I find owning crappy items is a major pity plea. I kind of enjoy having such horrible outdated objects. When it breaks I don’t feel too bad. Words such as “just” are thrown before possessions to make them seem not so glamorous. Sometimes this is used as a reverse tactic. “Oh it’s just a 9883 Fender Gibson Les Claypool guitar. No big deal.” or whatever a type of fancy guitar is. The only time I use the word “just” in a negative way is when ordering water at a restaurant. “I’ll just have water” saying it as if anything else could kill me. Feel bad for me! My beverage has no flavor. I guess hipsters have made owning clothes with blood stains cool again. Hipsters of course being the biggest pity pissers of all. They make themselves look ugly so we stop and tell them they’re beautiful. I hate dark poets so much. How about picking a favorite movie other than The Crow? It’s really just Robocop filmed with a bit less light.

(Did I say “just” Robocop! I did it again!)

Now I will need your help to make sure I don’t turn anything into attempts at sympathy. Call me out on it. Mail a bomb to me. Do whatever you can to get me to stop. Being subtle about sympathy is not far off from fishing for compliments. Another societal problem, but one I will work on later to fix. With my vow I eliminate a lot of compassion. This may seem evil, but it is misplaced compassion. Better used on important things like truly lost individuals in need of help. If your tummy is bothering you because you got really drunk last night I will not flinch my face to make a false frown. When your parents boss you around and make you feel any sort of guilt I will tell you to act your age. Finally, when I feel like you send out a negative vibe on the state of your life for the sole reason to get me to say “Awww” I will simply stop listening. You have me in your life. Things can’t be all that bad.