Posts Tagged ‘things’

I am not a violent person. I’ve never really been in a fight outside of recess and those always ended with someone crying because they got dirt on their sweat pants or landed on their favorite Pokemon card. Despite my non-violent ways I used to feel the need to carry weapons on me when I was an older teenager. For probably two years or so I always had at least one knife hidden in my pocket. Was I paranoid? No. Not at all. I thought I was a badass to carry around illegal concealed weapons. Today I brag about all of the cool street fighting weapons I have owned as well as tossing around some advice on how to use them for a quick kill.

Swiss Army Knives: Don’t worry, they get more violent than this. I’ve always had at least one Swiss Army knife to my name at all times. Right now as I type this I see two of them. Swiss Army knives aren’t very useful to me because I don’t drink and never have to cut bomb wires. The only way you could ever kill someone with a Swiss Army knife would be to get them a shot to the eye. A nice corkscrew to a pupil will do a lot of damage. Of course, you could also attack the anus, man’s most vulnerable spot. The anus is always a kill shot as we learned in Ben Hur or Spartacus (what’s the difference?).

(You know an army is lame when they have their own fragrance)

“Real” Army Knife: I call this my Army knife because it has an eagle on it. This was the first knife I had where you could probably actually kill someone with a gut shot. The eagle image has since faded but it had a lot of good times. This is also the only knife I have that ever drew blood. I would like to say it did not happen when I was trying to scare a friend and I cut my own finger with it but that would be a lie. The best place to use this to kill someone would be anywhere on the face. The anus would work well too.

Throwing Knives: Not only do I own three throwing knives of all different shapes, I also have a body straps they can be placed in and a knife throwing board. I haven’t used the board in years because if you miss then you end up with a knife wound in your wall. I only remember strapped the knives to my ankles once and it was while driving through the New Jersey Pine Barrens expecting to find the Jersey Devil or a 17 year old Snooki but of course back then I wouldn’t have known the difference. To kill someone with these knives it’s not so much about the location you hit your enemy in, it’s more about how hard and accurate you are with the throw. But if I had to say where you should aim it would be the anus.

Brass Knuckles: Otherwise known as paper weights by people who are easily fooled into thinking weapons have other uses, brass knuckles are a favorite among tough guys. I’m not very good at throwing punches so I haven’t had much use for these. I would probably be better off hoping my enemy tripped on the brass knuckles or got his fat fingers stuck in them. You can’t really kill someone with brass knuckles since it’s more about your own strength. However I did read in Judo: A Gentle Beginning that a nice shot to the anus with a pair of brass knuckles may cause major damage.

(The most popular book in my elementary school. It literally took me 3 years on the waiting list to check it out. Did I read it? No. How could someone named Jeannette know fighting techniques?)

Old Memorabilia: I guess I wouldn’t use these for anything other than scaring a naked girl tied to my bed since they’re actual war memorabilia but they should be mentioned. I own a Soviet Bayonet and a German pocket knife from the 1940s with this weird symbol on it that looks like two Z’s crossing each other. The bayonet is pretty intimidating and thick. You could easily slice someone’s throat with it or cut out a man’s anus. The German knife seems more like it was something probably used for cutting bread. The symbol on it looks way too peaceful.

Butterfly Knife: Butterfly knives are incredibly awesome and I have one. This was the knife I would carry on me a lot because it was fun to play with. It’s like a sharp nunchuck. I like the word nunchuck. It makes me think of throwing a religious woman out a window. The butterfly knife is more for flash than anything else. Do I need to say the best way to kill someone with one is to stab them in the anus? Didn’t think so.

(How can someone who can do such a cool thing look so lame?)

Switchblade: One time someone asked me for a comb and I accidentally handed them my switchblade. He was blind so instead of slicking back his hair he scalped himself. The problem with switchblades is you have to grease them up to keep them fast. I use oatmeal soap so I can no longer use my own forehead to grease up the knife. Switchblades are good for attacking hands or wrists. I’m not sure how one would work on an anus but I would guess very well.

Machete: Probably my most dangerous weapon if you don’t count my charm or my ability to drop things on people’s heads. Despite its size and reputation, the machete is pretty cute. It has my name carved on it and even has a sticker from the manufacturer. This is the latest weapon I’ve received as I found it pointless to keep stocking up on the same old things. We all know machetes are great for chopping off heads. I would keep the machete away from any anuses as it would be way too messy. Machetes can do a lot but one thing they cannot is solve bloody anus stains on the carpet. Stick with chopping off heads or arms if you ever think about getting one.

(The only picture I bothered to take of my weapons. I keep a lot of strange things in the fridge. The machete is there because it dulls the blade and makes it easier to cut through bone. I’m making that up)

Do you own any badass weapons? Guns are not badass. Guns are like more expensive slingshots.

Most of our first experiences with rocks involves our mothers cheering on bullies to find an even bigger one to throw at us. At least my first experience with rocks is like that. Rocks, by their very definition, are lame pieces of stone that hang out in the dirt. I can’t remember the last time I even saw or touched a rock. I think it’s the same reason why I never notice gnats anymore. I’m not outside unless it involves walking to my car or burning garbage/missing women’s clothing. Rocks are pretty lousy as far as small pieces of earth go. They look cool inside, I’ll give them that. But the same could be said about a pool filter. Sure, it’s mostly over chlorinated water. Occasionally you’re lucky and find a dead fly or a bloody missing Band-Aid.

(A rock giving birth to a flamboyant British man who doesn’t know the purpose of a hat)

The word rock can also be used to describe something. Like saying “you rock” for instance. Nobody ever tells me that I rock. Probably because I don’t. In order to rock I feel you must be able to shake your head to music. I just can’t do that. I can’t commit my head to shaking unless I’m seizuring or really don’t want another soda and my mouth is too full to tell the waiter to back off. You can also rock by being an overall cool person who gets the job done. Rarely do I get the job done. I’ll start a task and hope that someone else finishes it. Maybe that’s a poor example. You come up with a better one.

(I wish I could be this passionate about something. Notice the pattern of bored, excited, excited, thrilled fat lesbian, excited, excited, bored)

Not only can a person be described as rocking, they can actually rock as in move. Fun things to rock are chairs, babies, and gondola rides. Rock N Roll stars rarely do much rocking. I would describe their movements more as thrusting or giving the finger. Only during a dumb slow song will you see a real rocker rock. They’ll put one arm up in the air and rock their body’s back and forth. They’ll try to get the crowd to go along with it but once the crowd gets involved it becomes a sway, not a rock. So stop trying to involve the crowd like that you dumb millionaire drug addicts. Please don’t point at us then ask us to sing along to the chorus. If I wanted to sing then I would have gone to church or taken a shower. I go to a concert to forget about my problems and hear how you sound nothing like you do on the album in person.

The term Rock N Roll though actually comes from sex. I guess sex involves some rocking. Not so much rolling. Except that one time I decided to leave my pants on and stepped on a candle. I not only rolled, but before that I stopped and dropped. The word rock is also used in the entertainment industry by Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. He took this name from his father, Rocky Johnson. Rocky seems to be a pretty popular name amongst people who fight. And flying squirrels. Rocco is another similar name popular among Italians. And wallabies with modern lives. There’s also Rocky Dennis. I guess in a way he was a fighter. He managed to survive having a debilitating disease and Cher as a mom. And he kept his dick as its original form.

(And it was all downhill for Gingers after this)

Objects can be described as being rocky. Usually those are cliffs with actual rocks poking out. Sometimes situations can be described as rocky. I guess impregnating a student could be a rocky situation? Or is that more of a sticky situation? Because I know how much students like to chew gum. If students like hard candy more, then sure, it would be a rocky situation. The more I think about it the more I realize nobody ever says a situation is rocky. Roads are rocky. Roads are so rocky that there’s a popular ice cream flavor named Rocky Road. It sounds very appetizing. A flavor with the same name as the worst nightmare of a driver with hemorrhoids. Try driving over a pothole with an anal fissure and tell me that isn’t an accurate comparison.

(This looks delicious despite the fact that it looks exactly like my dog’s poop from 2 months ago when he had worms)

Even Major League Baseball acknowledges the existence of the word rock. That’s more than the NFL can say about the Holocaust. Can you believe that 45% of the players in that league deny that one of the most tragic and horrific events in human history never happened? Even more impressive is that only I know this statistic. The Colorado Rockies came along in the mid-90s giving the word rock a new audience. Originally the only sport where the word belonged was on school yards and hostage situations when Rock, Paper, Scissors would be played. If that game can teach us anything it’s that rocks are destructible. And by paper! A product so weak that a gust of wind or a heavy fart makes it fly away. Looking at it with that knowledge makes me lose respect for the word rock. So the next time a girl comes up to your friend and tells him that he rocks and basically ignores you, tell her you’re paper. Then refer her to this post. She’ll feel uncomfortable and leave. But at least your friend won’t get any. And we both know he doesn’t deserve it. He barely bathes and still owes you money.

“Rock out with your cock out” – popular t-shirt slogan of people whom you know have never actually been invited to a party without a goody-bag

Children love them. No I’m not talking about mass murders. Why would you think that? If anyone hates mass murders it would be children. Children are the one group of people who actually enjoy traffic. It gives them a longer amount of time to play their Gameboys or poke their sisters in the ear with their fingers. Rarely are children killed in mass. I don’t know why. It’s pretty easy to kill a kid. They strangle themselves with the chords on the blinds. How do you manage that? Kids are so fucking stupid. No wonder they love stickers so much.

I used to enjoy stickers. I enjoyed how you could place them on anything. I could take a sticker of a unicorn and stick it on an important document that it didn’t belong on. I remember in high school using blank stickers and writing bad words on them. I would stick them on cafeteria tables. They were removable which meant this caused little inconvenience. Now as I’m older stickers fly under my radar. No longer are they fun or something I ever think about needing. Stickers are like the problems in Africa to me. I know they exist but there’s nothing I can really do with or about them.

(This man, no different from the sticker on my windshield saying my car didn’t pass inspection)

Sometimes children are rewarded with stickers. I always thought that was a crappy prize. Even when I was a sticker kid I knew how lame that was. You did good kid, here, have a little piece of paper that you can place on another piece of paper. Then you have a paper covered in stickers. What do you do with that besides look at it once then throw it away? Sticker collages are no fun. It’s an excuse for not being able to draw. I think we should take all sticker collages and give them to the homeless for food. You eat enough paper you have to get some nutrients out of it.

My girlfriend still likes stickers. It’s okay because she’s 7. Huh? The law where I live is their age plus how many adult teeth they have. If it doesn’t equal 18, you’re committing a crime. I bought her stickers for her birthday last year. She actually wanted them. I think they were stickers of horses or pandas. I don’t remember. Something Asian. She loves little Asian stuff. I swear one day she’s going to move to Japan and nobody will ever hear from her again.

(The Japanese Mafia called The Yakuza. They’re very dangerous…I thought)

Adults have their own versions of stickers. We call them labels. It’s no different. You can call a guy “that darky” all you want but he’s still your son-in-law. I use a lot of labels at work. They’re helpful. They allow me to be more efficient. If I wasn’t efficient at my job then people might start to wonder why a human can’t do something a monkey can. I’m talking about a smart monkey of course. One that can do sign language. Did you know that an erect gorilla’s penis is 1.5 inches long? I know that and cannot remember how I know that. Figured I’d throw that in here because I’m all about giving out facts.

One place you should never put a sticker is on a wall. That is of course, a wall you are responsible for. I’ve been to friends bedrooms where they had stickers on the wall. Do they not understand the meaning of the word sticker? It sticks. Things that stick are irremovable. Boogers are sticky and almost impossible to get out of the girl in front of me on the elevator’s hair. The hardest place to get a sticker off of is a wood floor. I remember accidentally placing them there. I couldn’t get it off in one solid piece which was sad. A broken sticker? Nothing makes my inner child weep more. It’s a cracked image. Someone slaved away in a factory and possibly died to create that miniature image only for it to get stuck on your floor during a careless playing with action figures session. Think about that.

(When I was a boy I would eat my bananas then place the sticker on my shirt. It let the boys know I had high potassium and let the girls know I was not a sexual object)

Should I think stickers should be exterminated? Of course not. How do you exterminate something that isn’t living? Plus I will always have a fondness for scratch and sniff stickers. Is there anything more amazing than something that doesn’t smell nice until you scratch it? Science has paid off. I can see a sticker of a flower that smells like dirt.