So a lot of cool things are going on. My company is in its infant stages. I'll tell you more about that as time goes on, but suffice it to say that I may have found a way to make money doing the two things I love, writing, and not wearing pants. Also this site is up and running ads. I suggest that you click on them, because the content is probably super great, and you clicking on them gets me paid. I am not allowed to tell you to just click them without looking at what is offered, because that is a violation of my agreement with my advertisers, but I can tell you that I do get paid whether you buy stuff or not. Take it from there to do what you will. I promise that this is the last time I shill (just like a I promise I love you, and that time I promised to tell the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help me God).
That being said, the fine credit institution of American Express has decreed in their infinite wisdom that i am an ideal candidate for a Platinum Amex card with a limit of $5800. I in my infinite stupidity have compiled a list of things I could do to max out said Amex. So here for your viewing pleasure is a list of things I could buy with $5800.
580 Lap dances (as soon as I said $5800 all my Boyz immediately thought of this one)
5800 shooters at Peel Pub on Thursday (fuck you shooter girl no tips today)
168 months of membership at a porn site
721 large bottles of hand cream (cuz if you have that much access to porn...)
5009 American Dollars (that's a lot of singles at a titty bar)
193 3 and 1/2's
1060 Poutines at Labelle (after the 3 and 1/2's we'll need at least that)
5800 pieces of dollar pizza (I know a good spot off of Guy that charges no tax)
414 Pitchers of tap beer
828 Pitchers at happy hour (it's always happy hour somewhere right?)
193 24 cases of Labatt Blue
1 Russian mail order bride http://www.womenrussia.com
773 STD tests (fucking mail order brides)
2 50 inch Samsung plasma TV's
7 Ps3's
10 Xbox 360's
20 Nintendo wii's
130 original Nintendo
10 Avtomat Kalashnikova model 1947, otherwise known as an AK-47 (seriously with the rounding, it's roughly the same as an X-Box 360 http://www.eastcoastfirearms.com/, still it's cheaper than a Russian bride, and doesn't choke no matter what you do to it)
9957 Trojan condoms (from a box not a machine)
approximately 7000 diapers if you didn't buy the rubbers
19 1984 ford tempos (it's sad that i paid more for an X-Box than I did for my first car)
19 kawasaki standup jet skis (if you don't mind that it's a 1986)
0.96 Kawasaki Jet Skis (if you do)
5800 Tacos
23238 rolls of toilet paper (cuz god damn you if you eat that many tacos)
232 hardcover books (you'll be in the can for a while)
35% of what my education cost me
1 9 year old female spider monkey (to replace the mail order bride and to entertain)
42 rabies shot
386 copies of Justin Timberlake's new album
11,600 scented candles (settin the mood)
1 Diamond engagement ring (should have stopped at the candles)
Sadly enough I make about $1000 bucks every two weeks after taxes, so if I were to do any of this it would take me (without interest) a little over 2 years to pay this card off. I think I'll be mature and keep the Amex in my pocket.
Cheers! First round's on...Fuck it, it's on me and my Amex!!!
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
I spy with my little eye, boobs pretending to be dudes
Before I begin today's column, cool shit is happening all the time. Not only can I be googled, but I am on the urban dictionary. for those who do not know, http://www.urbandictionary.com is one of my favorite websites, that basically gives dictionary definitions for all of our favorite slang. Not sure what that hobo meant when he said he wanted to give you a Cleveland Steamer when you dropped some Lint and 4 dirty pennies in his coffee? Go check it out!
Now so far my column has been aimed at the fellas, telling you how to infiltrate the minds and pants of whichever conquest you desire. Today deals with the flipside of this. It deals with women who attempt to break into your safe zones in the attempt to spy on you and tell her girl friends all about what we do when they're not around. I'm talking about the dude with boobs.
Not the fat guy either
I'm talking about the girl you know that only hangs out with the guys. Every group has at least one of these girls. She doesn't date anyone of the Boyz, although she may have slept with most of them (if she hasn't slept with you, it really sucks, cuz normally these chicks are serious freaks). She might have started out as one of the Boyz sister's friends, but for one reason or another hangs out more with the Boyz than with the girls she was supposed to see. Also no one really knows how she keeps getting invited over. None of the Boyz will take credit for inviting her, but she always seems to know where you're going to be and when (Considering we spend a lot of time ending up at Selvin's it's a pretty safe bet, but still). I'll solve that mystery right now. You know that one guy who hasn't at least fingerbanged her? He's the one who keeps cluing her in. Kick his ass or make him buy the beers (whichever is your punishment for being a douche).
She tries to act like a guy, but expects to be treated like a handicap. She wants every little piece of sports knowledge to be received like an indication of how cool she is. Bram brought up an interesting point to me the other day (He's back from Boston now, so the quality of these articles should go steadily up, stay tuned we have some doozies coming up). He says, "What's the deal with these chicks? they think knowing who's playing means they're in the game" I of course started laughing hysterically, because I knew exactly what he was talking about. If one of your Boyz came up to you and said, "New York and Montreal are playing tonight right? See I'm cool!" you would beat the fag right out of him, basically until you got tired, only afterwards (and after everyone in the room had the chance to make fun of him at least once) would he be considered marginally cool. Ladies, its not enough to know who's playing, you have to know why we like who we like, and why we hate who we hate, and what the impact of every other game means to us (boy does it suck when you want Toronto to win though, even if it solidifies us in the playoffs. Seriously I had to shower twice this morning).
Highlights don't even count in Hair Dye
It's also aggravating when a girl says "I need to watch the highlights...for my daily fix". This is like a guy saying "I only go to the strip club cuz it's my buddy's birthday". You say these words and we immediately assume you're full of shit. We watch the highlights because there are games you missed, it's impossible to watch everything (no matter how hard Future Shop tries to push Picture-in-Picture). You watch the Highlights because you don't actually like watching a whole game. There's more to the sport than goals and hits. it's about getting so into the goals that you wake up people who are supposed to be on meds, and so into the hits that you accidentally spill beer on the guy next to you, and he doesn't realize it until ten minutes later and thinks he did it to himself, and doesn't mention it to anyone. Also he pulls his shirt down lower because he looks like he pissed himself. Also I'm going to mention he wet himself, because even though I know he didn't because I'm the one who spilled it on him, I'm a bit of an asshole.
She knows EVERYTHING
If there's one thing worse than the girl who knows nothing about sports, it's the one that knows everything. What's the first thing she's going to do with that newfound knowledge? try and make you look stupid. It's not about having all of the facts, it's about having the conviction to make your friends agree with you, even when you're wrong, especially when you're wrong. The Barbies are next to the teaset CupCake, and the babies are upstairs.
Beware the friendless ones
What would you think about a guy who said he was incapable of having male friends because he just "didn't like the way they act"? You'd think there was something really wrong with him, right ladies? Well we think the same thing about you girls who can't stand other girls. Also we think it might be the other girls who can't stand you, and why should we have to, if your own gender doesn't want to be associated with the train wreck that is your life. If there's one thing I've learned from the women in my life, it's that they are generally a lot nicer to the ones that are considered losers than men. If they can't stand you, then you have no chance with the Boyz.
Yesterday was a great day, Crosby got a goal and an assist (I love the Habs, but I am all about the Penguins if it comes down to it, that kid got me back into hockey), We had a decisive win against New York, and Girly fell asleep in my bed while the final minutes wound down. She didn't try and talk to me about my feelings or anything like that. She snuggled up to me me when I finally got to bed and half asleep asked me "did we win?" when I said yes, she said "That's nice, I'm happy you're happy" and fell back asleep. She gets the point. She's my Girly, and knows that means that most of my time is hers, she doesn't need to steal my time from me too. And I was happy, because even though the Boyz weren't all together for this one, we did manage to work out some playoff ticket grab scheme that involves scalping to cover the cost of our tix, beer weed and lapdances...because it's Bram's Birthday....
Cheers! First round's on...anyone but me!
Now so far my column has been aimed at the fellas, telling you how to infiltrate the minds and pants of whichever conquest you desire. Today deals with the flipside of this. It deals with women who attempt to break into your safe zones in the attempt to spy on you and tell her girl friends all about what we do when they're not around. I'm talking about the dude with boobs.
Not the fat guy either
I'm talking about the girl you know that only hangs out with the guys. Every group has at least one of these girls. She doesn't date anyone of the Boyz, although she may have slept with most of them (if she hasn't slept with you, it really sucks, cuz normally these chicks are serious freaks). She might have started out as one of the Boyz sister's friends, but for one reason or another hangs out more with the Boyz than with the girls she was supposed to see. Also no one really knows how she keeps getting invited over. None of the Boyz will take credit for inviting her, but she always seems to know where you're going to be and when (Considering we spend a lot of time ending up at Selvin's it's a pretty safe bet, but still). I'll solve that mystery right now. You know that one guy who hasn't at least fingerbanged her? He's the one who keeps cluing her in. Kick his ass or make him buy the beers (whichever is your punishment for being a douche).
She tries to act like a guy, but expects to be treated like a handicap. She wants every little piece of sports knowledge to be received like an indication of how cool she is. Bram brought up an interesting point to me the other day (He's back from Boston now, so the quality of these articles should go steadily up, stay tuned we have some doozies coming up). He says, "What's the deal with these chicks? they think knowing who's playing means they're in the game" I of course started laughing hysterically, because I knew exactly what he was talking about. If one of your Boyz came up to you and said, "New York and Montreal are playing tonight right? See I'm cool!" you would beat the fag right out of him, basically until you got tired, only afterwards (and after everyone in the room had the chance to make fun of him at least once) would he be considered marginally cool. Ladies, its not enough to know who's playing, you have to know why we like who we like, and why we hate who we hate, and what the impact of every other game means to us (boy does it suck when you want Toronto to win though, even if it solidifies us in the playoffs. Seriously I had to shower twice this morning).
Highlights don't even count in Hair Dye
It's also aggravating when a girl says "I need to watch the highlights...for my daily fix". This is like a guy saying "I only go to the strip club cuz it's my buddy's birthday". You say these words and we immediately assume you're full of shit. We watch the highlights because there are games you missed, it's impossible to watch everything (no matter how hard Future Shop tries to push Picture-in-Picture). You watch the Highlights because you don't actually like watching a whole game. There's more to the sport than goals and hits. it's about getting so into the goals that you wake up people who are supposed to be on meds, and so into the hits that you accidentally spill beer on the guy next to you, and he doesn't realize it until ten minutes later and thinks he did it to himself, and doesn't mention it to anyone. Also he pulls his shirt down lower because he looks like he pissed himself. Also I'm going to mention he wet himself, because even though I know he didn't because I'm the one who spilled it on him, I'm a bit of an asshole.
She knows EVERYTHING
If there's one thing worse than the girl who knows nothing about sports, it's the one that knows everything. What's the first thing she's going to do with that newfound knowledge? try and make you look stupid. It's not about having all of the facts, it's about having the conviction to make your friends agree with you, even when you're wrong, especially when you're wrong. The Barbies are next to the teaset CupCake, and the babies are upstairs.
Beware the friendless ones
What would you think about a guy who said he was incapable of having male friends because he just "didn't like the way they act"? You'd think there was something really wrong with him, right ladies? Well we think the same thing about you girls who can't stand other girls. Also we think it might be the other girls who can't stand you, and why should we have to, if your own gender doesn't want to be associated with the train wreck that is your life. If there's one thing I've learned from the women in my life, it's that they are generally a lot nicer to the ones that are considered losers than men. If they can't stand you, then you have no chance with the Boyz.
Yesterday was a great day, Crosby got a goal and an assist (I love the Habs, but I am all about the Penguins if it comes down to it, that kid got me back into hockey), We had a decisive win against New York, and Girly fell asleep in my bed while the final minutes wound down. She didn't try and talk to me about my feelings or anything like that. She snuggled up to me me when I finally got to bed and half asleep asked me "did we win?" when I said yes, she said "That's nice, I'm happy you're happy" and fell back asleep. She gets the point. She's my Girly, and knows that means that most of my time is hers, she doesn't need to steal my time from me too. And I was happy, because even though the Boyz weren't all together for this one, we did manage to work out some playoff ticket grab scheme that involves scalping to cover the cost of our tix, beer weed and lapdances...because it's Bram's Birthday....
Cheers! First round's on...anyone but me!
Monday, March 26, 2007
Six degrees of Separation, and Separating from it all
I am back at work, and in a bit of a lull, so I was able to put off the post last night and kick back with Girly, knowing full well that I'd be able to write it this morning. Of course being the slacker that I am, I came in 2 hours late, and put off the writing to after lunch (who can write on an empty stomach).
I spent some time speaking to the curvaceous Carolyn, a groupie of sorts of my column (that's right boys there are benefits to writing), and a friend. She was talking about an insane party she went to on the weekend, involving a lot of water, and even more alcohol. I personally think that March is a bit too early for a splash bash, but then again cold wet girls equal a lot of pointed perky nipples, and an extreme desire to get out of wet clothes into warm beds, so I might be a bit backwards on the idea.
As always my first question was, did you hook up with anyone. Normally this is because I am a deviant and a bit overly focused on my and other's sex lives, but now I write a sex column,s o ti's all good. My friends give me a free pass, and girls seem to love the idea of speaking with a pro (and who am I to dissuade them from the idea that I might be a professional, and not just someone who likes talking dirty).
She was telling me that the situation was way to messy to do anything of any fun. Not only was she surrounded by ex boyfriends of hers, the one guy that she might have had an interest in was an ex of a friend. Her question to me was how to get away from the six degrees of separation effect that permeates all of our lives.
Basically, within a chain of 6 people you connect yourself to anybody on the planet. I personally think this is a bit of a stretch, but I have been way too connected to most of the girls I have hooked up with (often only finding out afterwards of course), so I cannot really disregard the notion completely.
Now how do you separate yourself from the trap. You're hitting on a girl, and her ex-boyfriend is in the same room? This is not an easy sell, but with a bit of charm and a lot more luck you can get this done.
The spot
First of all you need to know which girl has a man in the room. This should be easy, look for the girl who is dancing with a group of her friends, and not looking at any of them. Nope this girl is too busy keeping an eye out for her ex. She can practically see through walls to spot him anywhere in the room. She wants to make sure he's not having more fun than she is. it's your job to make sure he is...at first.
The plant
In order for you to be able to get some play with the girl of your most recent daydreams, you're going to have to get her into a position where she'll basically start fooling around with whomever is closest (if you time this right this should be you). The way you accomplish this is to send one of your cock tease female friends over to this other guy and to start grinding him (all of your female friends are just a bunch of teases right? that's why they didn't bang you). Your friend should be up to it, because it is the CT's biggest joy in life to make a guy drool over her, and the Guy should be into it, because some chick came up to him, and so he feels like a pimp.
Once your target sees her ex touching someone else, she'll want to even the score ASAP. You should be very near at hand, as you'll be her rebound. What follows is similar to the script of every teen movie you have ever seen, where both parties escalate until the girl just runs off in distress and the ex follows her, consoles her and they get back together.
Luckily for you, your friend is such a solid Ho, that no man in his right mind will leave, so you'll have to do that comforting for him.
The shoulder
Ask her? What's wrong, did I do something to offend you. Remember you probably had your hand up her skirt and your tongue down her throat, but you'll still seem like a gentleman compared to that sleazy ex of hers that still is nowhere to be found. Tell her that you're usually not that forward, but you felt a connection (she'll think mentally, you'll know it was more your hand to her honey pot). She'll probably be pretty vulnerable right around now, and a bit more comforting could easily lead to some sexual healing.
The Pearly Gates
This is a little reminder that in none of these articles, past, present or future, can I offer any way to save you from going to hell. Luckily enough though, I have a feeling that most of the girls you have been with in this life will be joining you, and who doesn't like it hot?
So there you have it? We all know someone who knows someone you know. For every girl you see there's probably a boy of your boy who has been there first. I can't stop you from feeling bad for sleeping with her, I can't stop you from the drama that will result from you sleeping with her, but if you follow the steps above, I can help you sleep with her. One in three ain't that bad though is it?
And after your hook-up when you get back to the bar ready to re-hydrate for round 2, you'll hear me yelling
Cheers! First round's on...anyone but me...
Unless I'm busy with your ex in the back alley (how romantic)
I spent some time speaking to the curvaceous Carolyn, a groupie of sorts of my column (that's right boys there are benefits to writing), and a friend. She was talking about an insane party she went to on the weekend, involving a lot of water, and even more alcohol. I personally think that March is a bit too early for a splash bash, but then again cold wet girls equal a lot of pointed perky nipples, and an extreme desire to get out of wet clothes into warm beds, so I might be a bit backwards on the idea.
As always my first question was, did you hook up with anyone. Normally this is because I am a deviant and a bit overly focused on my and other's sex lives, but now I write a sex column,s o ti's all good. My friends give me a free pass, and girls seem to love the idea of speaking with a pro (and who am I to dissuade them from the idea that I might be a professional, and not just someone who likes talking dirty).
She was telling me that the situation was way to messy to do anything of any fun. Not only was she surrounded by ex boyfriends of hers, the one guy that she might have had an interest in was an ex of a friend. Her question to me was how to get away from the six degrees of separation effect that permeates all of our lives.
Basically, within a chain of 6 people you connect yourself to anybody on the planet. I personally think this is a bit of a stretch, but I have been way too connected to most of the girls I have hooked up with (often only finding out afterwards of course), so I cannot really disregard the notion completely.
Now how do you separate yourself from the trap. You're hitting on a girl, and her ex-boyfriend is in the same room? This is not an easy sell, but with a bit of charm and a lot more luck you can get this done.
The spot
First of all you need to know which girl has a man in the room. This should be easy, look for the girl who is dancing with a group of her friends, and not looking at any of them. Nope this girl is too busy keeping an eye out for her ex. She can practically see through walls to spot him anywhere in the room. She wants to make sure he's not having more fun than she is. it's your job to make sure he is...at first.
The plant
In order for you to be able to get some play with the girl of your most recent daydreams, you're going to have to get her into a position where she'll basically start fooling around with whomever is closest (if you time this right this should be you). The way you accomplish this is to send one of your cock tease female friends over to this other guy and to start grinding him (all of your female friends are just a bunch of teases right? that's why they didn't bang you). Your friend should be up to it, because it is the CT's biggest joy in life to make a guy drool over her, and the Guy should be into it, because some chick came up to him, and so he feels like a pimp.
Once your target sees her ex touching someone else, she'll want to even the score ASAP. You should be very near at hand, as you'll be her rebound. What follows is similar to the script of every teen movie you have ever seen, where both parties escalate until the girl just runs off in distress and the ex follows her, consoles her and they get back together.
Luckily for you, your friend is such a solid Ho, that no man in his right mind will leave, so you'll have to do that comforting for him.
The shoulder
Ask her? What's wrong, did I do something to offend you. Remember you probably had your hand up her skirt and your tongue down her throat, but you'll still seem like a gentleman compared to that sleazy ex of hers that still is nowhere to be found. Tell her that you're usually not that forward, but you felt a connection (she'll think mentally, you'll know it was more your hand to her honey pot). She'll probably be pretty vulnerable right around now, and a bit more comforting could easily lead to some sexual healing.
The Pearly Gates
This is a little reminder that in none of these articles, past, present or future, can I offer any way to save you from going to hell. Luckily enough though, I have a feeling that most of the girls you have been with in this life will be joining you, and who doesn't like it hot?
So there you have it? We all know someone who knows someone you know. For every girl you see there's probably a boy of your boy who has been there first. I can't stop you from feeling bad for sleeping with her, I can't stop you from the drama that will result from you sleeping with her, but if you follow the steps above, I can help you sleep with her. One in three ain't that bad though is it?
And after your hook-up when you get back to the bar ready to re-hydrate for round 2, you'll hear me yelling
Cheers! First round's on...anyone but me...
Unless I'm busy with your ex in the back alley (how romantic)
Thursday, March 22, 2007
The Triumphant Return
I don't even remember when the last time I wrote was, and that is not a good thing. In my own defense, it is not my fault. If it wasn't 11 hour work days, it was the onslaught of the most vile stomach flu I have ever had (that was a dicey day at the client let me tell you). I find myself back at my desk looking towards the future, and realize I still have a bit of my past to deal with.
Prior to the American attack on my site (henceforth referred to as 3/20), I had a small revelation on the nature of women. I claimed to have had an Epiphany of sorts, which would allow any man to snag any woman, to get her and keep her happy. This secret would allow a man to be any woman's greatest lover, her best friend, her slave and her master all at the same time. It was perfectly written, and absolutely relevant to every one's daily life. Of course it was instantly subverted by the American blog machine, and I had to take it down in order to keep my site my own.
I don't necessarily believe that the American government is trying to keep me from teaching the masses how to please their women, but the timing is more than a little weird. That being said, I have had time to reflect, and I take my original claim back. This piece of advice will not enable you to get ANY woman, it will however be able to get you any woman that matters. You ready for it Boyz?
Pay attention to her
It's really just that simple. Women are people too, only they haven't been trained from birth that feelings are for pussies, as such they express them more. Moreover, they are no smarter than you are. This means that if you listen long enough you will be able to make links between what she says, and what she is about to say. You know how you know who is going to win the big game most of the time, this is basically the same premise. You look for the little clues that most people are not paying attention to, and you bet. Only this time you're betting on yourself, and her, and you as a couple, and if you're right, you get sex. Tons of it.
So that's it for now, keep it in mind Boyz, otherwise just hit up the bar with me.
Cheer's first round's on...anyone but me!
Prior to the American attack on my site (henceforth referred to as 3/20), I had a small revelation on the nature of women. I claimed to have had an Epiphany of sorts, which would allow any man to snag any woman, to get her and keep her happy. This secret would allow a man to be any woman's greatest lover, her best friend, her slave and her master all at the same time. It was perfectly written, and absolutely relevant to every one's daily life. Of course it was instantly subverted by the American blog machine, and I had to take it down in order to keep my site my own.
I don't necessarily believe that the American government is trying to keep me from teaching the masses how to please their women, but the timing is more than a little weird. That being said, I have had time to reflect, and I take my original claim back. This piece of advice will not enable you to get ANY woman, it will however be able to get you any woman that matters. You ready for it Boyz?
Pay attention to her
It's really just that simple. Women are people too, only they haven't been trained from birth that feelings are for pussies, as such they express them more. Moreover, they are no smarter than you are. This means that if you listen long enough you will be able to make links between what she says, and what she is about to say. You know how you know who is going to win the big game most of the time, this is basically the same premise. You look for the little clues that most people are not paying attention to, and you bet. Only this time you're betting on yourself, and her, and you as a couple, and if you're right, you get sex. Tons of it.
So that's it for now, keep it in mind Boyz, otherwise just hit up the bar with me.
Cheer's first round's on...anyone but me!
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Fuckin Americans
I had a wicked post that I wrote. I loved it, it was on how to perfectly please a woman. I discussed it with Girly and her Brother, who is the coolest 16 year old I have yet to meet, and they loved it. He sat there in rapt attention, she looked at me in open admiration, the clouds opened up and god himself gave me a thumbs up. OK maybe it wasn't that good, but Girly told me I had to write this down quick. I got to bed insanely late yesterday writing and editing the post.
When I checked this morning to make sure that it was as beautful on some rest as it was in my exhaustion, I typed in my address, and was greeted by AmericaBlog.com
I was invaded by the Americans people, I am Irak. Anyways the only way to fix this snafoo was to delete my last post and rewrite something else. this is that something else.
Stay tuned tomorrow for what may have been the greatest article ever.
When I checked this morning to make sure that it was as beautful on some rest as it was in my exhaustion, I typed in my address, and was greeted by AmericaBlog.com
I was invaded by the Americans people, I am Irak. Anyways the only way to fix this snafoo was to delete my last post and rewrite something else. this is that something else.
Stay tuned tomorrow for what may have been the greatest article ever.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
St Patty's Day Pt. 2
I'm sure a lot of people would like me to say that I am writing this absolutely shit-faced hungover, but alas this is not the truth. This is not to say that I did not drink too much, or that I was anywhere near responsible (much to my family's chagrin), but I was surrounded by such a group of degenerates that we were able to keep an unhealthy pace, for nearly 13 hours with enough forsight that by the time I went to bed, my buzz had decreased enough for me to think ahead and drink a lot of water. I woke up Sunday morning happy and well rested, and ate some cereal while playing Game Cube with Girly. Spyro is pretty gay, but my partner was cool, so it was a good way to spend the day.
I am proud to report that from 1Pm Saturday afternoon, up until the early hour of 2AM (when I quit the Boyz to meet up with Girly), we did not lose one single Boy. No one passed out, nobody got sick, nobody got arrested. We did get into a fight with some Leaf's fans (a jewish shoving match of the first order), and I did get cracked solidly in the face (I was breaking up a second completely unrelated jewish shoving match, and when I decided everyone was calm enough, I smacked both fighters in the face...smart move on my part that Selvin was quick to reward). I bruised my hip pretty badly, in a piggy back gone wrong moment (We're even Wise, but Bram owes you one, and Im going to help him). I did not get in any trouble when I met up with Girly, wrecked out of my tree, and ready to get to the lovin. She was also in a happy moment, wrecked out of her own tree, and happy to go cuddle. Which we did, and it was awesome.
That being said, I lived some interesting experiences with the Boyz. First of all I felt like a pseudo-celebrity. Bramo has been pushin my column on all of his friends, and apparently it has taken pretty well. When I was introduced to new people more often than not, I was met by "THE Toine...dude I love your column" which I think is great. Also whenever someone said or did something stupid or funny (more often than not the former), I was immediately turned to and asked "Please don't put this into the column". Don't worry dude, I barely remember what I did so your shit is safe.
So Bramo, Ronnie, Selvin, and now Wise...Thanks for the great time, you are some solid Boyz. Bramo says we need to hook up again to drink during the day, I say anytime is a good time. Wise you're going to be a doctor, maybe you can fix my Hip, or at least not break it next time. Baby steps buddy.
It is in these moments that I realized that I was getting older though. Not because any of the guys around me were less into doing stupid shit, but more because the group had no desire to do it at certain locations. Heaven forbid there be 16 year olds there getting retarded alongside us.
As Ronnie says and I whole heartedly agree, if the bar lets them in, they're 18 and anything after is completely legal. It's some sketchy logic, but you can't fault a man for protecting himself for liking them young. Some say if there's grass on the field play ball, others that if there isn't any grass, plant some seeds. I personally think that if the person I'm playing with can swing my bat, I'll pitch all day long (wow I really ran with that analogy).
Last but certainly not least, in the midst of getting in on pictures that I'll never see, getting fake tattooed on very sensitive spots, by very attractive people, and by fake tattooing a breast or two, I never once picked up the first round. Nobody expected me to, nobody wanted to make me a liar.
Cheer's Boyz.
I am proud to report that from 1Pm Saturday afternoon, up until the early hour of 2AM (when I quit the Boyz to meet up with Girly), we did not lose one single Boy. No one passed out, nobody got sick, nobody got arrested. We did get into a fight with some Leaf's fans (a jewish shoving match of the first order), and I did get cracked solidly in the face (I was breaking up a second completely unrelated jewish shoving match, and when I decided everyone was calm enough, I smacked both fighters in the face...smart move on my part that Selvin was quick to reward). I bruised my hip pretty badly, in a piggy back gone wrong moment (We're even Wise, but Bram owes you one, and Im going to help him). I did not get in any trouble when I met up with Girly, wrecked out of my tree, and ready to get to the lovin. She was also in a happy moment, wrecked out of her own tree, and happy to go cuddle. Which we did, and it was awesome.
That being said, I lived some interesting experiences with the Boyz. First of all I felt like a pseudo-celebrity. Bramo has been pushin my column on all of his friends, and apparently it has taken pretty well. When I was introduced to new people more often than not, I was met by "THE Toine...dude I love your column" which I think is great. Also whenever someone said or did something stupid or funny (more often than not the former), I was immediately turned to and asked "Please don't put this into the column". Don't worry dude, I barely remember what I did so your shit is safe.
So Bramo, Ronnie, Selvin, and now Wise...Thanks for the great time, you are some solid Boyz. Bramo says we need to hook up again to drink during the day, I say anytime is a good time. Wise you're going to be a doctor, maybe you can fix my Hip, or at least not break it next time. Baby steps buddy.
It is in these moments that I realized that I was getting older though. Not because any of the guys around me were less into doing stupid shit, but more because the group had no desire to do it at certain locations. Heaven forbid there be 16 year olds there getting retarded alongside us.
As Ronnie says and I whole heartedly agree, if the bar lets them in, they're 18 and anything after is completely legal. It's some sketchy logic, but you can't fault a man for protecting himself for liking them young. Some say if there's grass on the field play ball, others that if there isn't any grass, plant some seeds. I personally think that if the person I'm playing with can swing my bat, I'll pitch all day long (wow I really ran with that analogy).
Last but certainly not least, in the midst of getting in on pictures that I'll never see, getting fake tattooed on very sensitive spots, by very attractive people, and by fake tattooing a breast or two, I never once picked up the first round. Nobody expected me to, nobody wanted to make me a liar.
Cheer's Boyz.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Thursday, March 15, 2007
A Stroke of Genius...75% of the time, it works everytime
Hey hey!
So with the exception of a few little coughs and random liquids secreting on occasion, I'd say I have kicked the shit out of this cold, and managed to squeeze a 4 day work week out of it. Not bad all things considered. Also for the time being, I am back on my writing schedule, so hopefully you guys won't have to wait too long to see the newest installments (I am really hoping I don't black out this weekend so I have a super sick St-Patties day story to tell you guys). If Ronnie' s theory pans out, "a few people will join later in the evening, but the real soldiers will be getting fucked up all day". Here's hoping big guy, here's hoping.
Now with all this alcohol impairing our judgements, not to mention all the egging on that will be occurring, as well as the affirmations that "Nah dude it ain't beer goggles, she's totally hot bro...go Hit That!" coming from the guy who is so passed out he thought you were talking about the pole, and not the chick dancing on it.
Now odds are you're better off with the pole, but it has been a while (almost forty minutes for me bro!) and you're pretty liquored up, so this chick is probably looking really hot. How can you tell if you really should bring this chick home? You need a Stroke of Genius.
It's scientifically proven that guys are better at opening jars than women (look it up in the official South Shore Journal of I told you so). This same study proves that we are completely unable to make an informed decision 99% of the time. This is simply because as 20 somethings in world that is being bombarded with sexual innuendo, sexual allusions, and sometimes just plain sex (can you believe that you can find websites that show videos of people having sex on the Internet? For Free? Shocking I know, it's true, if you want to check for yourself look...anywhere) men are usually walking around in a state of such arousal that they are absolutely incapable of completely rational thought.
There is a remedy however. At the point of release, a man's thinking is so clear that he may actually be able to solve any problem. It is theorized that in these moments such monumental inventions such as the Fireworks, TNT, and basically anything in the form of a stick involving a cool explosion, were invented. This moment of clarity is referred to as a Stroke of Genius, and it is your gateway to a safe hookup, that you can brag about tomorrow.
The premise is that you see the Questionable Honey in Question. You are all hot, bothered, and inebriated, and you're looking for love in as many wrong places as she'll let you explore. Odds are you have spotted her at the beginning of the night (it doesn't matter that you're smashed. You started at noon, and that's a completely separate problem). It is now time for you to go consult your inner Einstein. Go to the men's room, and shake hands with your "oldest friend". Once you're done with that (I understand that there's a lot of pressure what with the bathroom being full, but never let it be said that you're not a clutch performer), ask yourself again, "Do I want to go anywhere near this woman?" If the answers still yes, then go get her Tiger! A special added bonus to this is that you'll be out of commission for a little bit (everyone has a different rate of recovery but you've got at least 10 solid minutes) where you can get to know her, or at least not jump all over her so she'll either A) think you're a nice guy and put out easier or B) will make her feel self conscious so she puts out easier (a bit of alcohol facilitates both. There's a reason why it is called a social lubricant).
So there you have it Gents, the Stroke of Genius, it might not help you get laid, but it will help you get laid better. And so when you get back from the bathroom feeling smarter by the millilitre, you'll be able to hear me yell clearly from the back of the bar
Cheers! First round's on...anyone but me!
So with the exception of a few little coughs and random liquids secreting on occasion, I'd say I have kicked the shit out of this cold, and managed to squeeze a 4 day work week out of it. Not bad all things considered. Also for the time being, I am back on my writing schedule, so hopefully you guys won't have to wait too long to see the newest installments (I am really hoping I don't black out this weekend so I have a super sick St-Patties day story to tell you guys). If Ronnie' s theory pans out, "a few people will join later in the evening, but the real soldiers will be getting fucked up all day". Here's hoping big guy, here's hoping.
Now with all this alcohol impairing our judgements, not to mention all the egging on that will be occurring, as well as the affirmations that "Nah dude it ain't beer goggles, she's totally hot bro...go Hit That!" coming from the guy who is so passed out he thought you were talking about the pole, and not the chick dancing on it.
Now odds are you're better off with the pole, but it has been a while (almost forty minutes for me bro!) and you're pretty liquored up, so this chick is probably looking really hot. How can you tell if you really should bring this chick home? You need a Stroke of Genius.
It's scientifically proven that guys are better at opening jars than women (look it up in the official South Shore Journal of I told you so). This same study proves that we are completely unable to make an informed decision 99% of the time. This is simply because as 20 somethings in world that is being bombarded with sexual innuendo, sexual allusions, and sometimes just plain sex (can you believe that you can find websites that show videos of people having sex on the Internet? For Free? Shocking I know, it's true, if you want to check for yourself look...anywhere) men are usually walking around in a state of such arousal that they are absolutely incapable of completely rational thought.
There is a remedy however. At the point of release, a man's thinking is so clear that he may actually be able to solve any problem. It is theorized that in these moments such monumental inventions such as the Fireworks, TNT, and basically anything in the form of a stick involving a cool explosion, were invented. This moment of clarity is referred to as a Stroke of Genius, and it is your gateway to a safe hookup, that you can brag about tomorrow.
The premise is that you see the Questionable Honey in Question. You are all hot, bothered, and inebriated, and you're looking for love in as many wrong places as she'll let you explore. Odds are you have spotted her at the beginning of the night (it doesn't matter that you're smashed. You started at noon, and that's a completely separate problem). It is now time for you to go consult your inner Einstein. Go to the men's room, and shake hands with your "oldest friend". Once you're done with that (I understand that there's a lot of pressure what with the bathroom being full, but never let it be said that you're not a clutch performer), ask yourself again, "Do I want to go anywhere near this woman?" If the answers still yes, then go get her Tiger! A special added bonus to this is that you'll be out of commission for a little bit (everyone has a different rate of recovery but you've got at least 10 solid minutes) where you can get to know her, or at least not jump all over her so she'll either A) think you're a nice guy and put out easier or B) will make her feel self conscious so she puts out easier (a bit of alcohol facilitates both. There's a reason why it is called a social lubricant).
So there you have it Gents, the Stroke of Genius, it might not help you get laid, but it will help you get laid better. And so when you get back from the bathroom feeling smarter by the millilitre, you'll be able to hear me yell clearly from the back of the bar
Cheers! First round's on...anyone but me!
Mackin Chicks By the Book...or the MSN eXXXerience
Hi Everybody!
So it's 9 AM (ush) and I'm writing the new article. Even though it can be argued that I am writing this a bit late, I can guarantee that The topic was developed yesterday (and man was it a clutch fucking brainstorm session). You see I have no problem talking a lot. I have a big mouth and can ramble off on basically any subject. This is key when you have an oral presentation that nobody has really worked on. Say your 5 slides, and let Toine field any question that comes up. I can't be beat. If I don't know the answer I'll make up something plausible so quickly, the other people in the room will think I rehearsed the Q & A with the person beforehand (If you don't believe me, hunt down Bram, and ask him about our Strategy class, where we met and almost instantly became Boyz, after a punched someone for being a bit TOO into his new laptop).
The point is though, that while I can ramble on for any point, I need a point to start with. I write this column almost everyday (I take weekends off, because damn if I don't need to be wrecked after "working" all week). and usually write the article you read in the morning the night before while you're sleeping or watching TV. I usually write it late at night because i'm scrambling to find new topics. Now don't pity me too much, because this usually just means that I bug Bramo while he should be studying, he mentions he needs some food, we get totally distracted, laugh our asses off, yell Boom a few times, and then I have a topic.
Girly was at my house yesterday, though so needless to say the distraction factor upped about a million percent (I measured). I hadn't seen her since Sunday, and she knew I wasn't going to see her all weekend (look for Monday's post on St-Patty's day and you'll see why). Basically she came to my place knowing that she had one day, maybe two to get a whole week's worth of Toine. She was more than willing to take that lovin if she had to, but I am devoted to you guys, so I needed at least a topic before I completely disregarded my responsibilities. I was talking to Bram, and as usual having a good time with it, but as soon as he heard the antics going on behind my back, he respected me for my ability to focus on a computer but really thought I should go handle my Business.
Ronnie however came through like a champ, telling me that A) I was gay for talking to two guys when I had a half naked Goddess in my bed waiting for me, and B) I should talk about msn or some junk like that. He also mentionned Facebook. Bram said, make sure you talk about hooking up though, and so here we are. Hooking up via MSN, with an injection of Facebook.
Facebook is the king of randomly getting in touch with people you haven't spoken to in forever (which for a 20 something is anythin longer than a year). I got on after about a year of constant harrassment from Katz (Michael Katz goes to McGill look him up sexy ladies. Not only is he funny and rich, but from what i've heard he's hung like a Donkey!). I originally did it to plug this site and the book I want to turn this site into. Since then all I have been doing is checking this FB shit. Facebook is addictive like crack, and I have a feeling that the more FB friends I get, the less actual friends I will have. Also there are people who add me, and I have no idea who they are. Katz calls it stalker book, I call it play it forward. Some weird ugmo adds me, I'll accept, check her friend list, and tag every hot chick on her list, and every dude who looks like he could sink a 3 when it's absolutely necessary. It's called options people.
And for some reason they all have their emails added to this, so you could also add them to MSN. Here is why macking chicks via MSN is not as loserly as you might think.
You can do it stupid
If you haven't been able to pick up chicks from a bar...you're in trouble. Odds are you lack self esteem, and basically have no game. This would be a good place for you to practice it. You're probably all awkward and sweaty and stammering and whatnot, well she can't see that. If you have a webcam, disable that shit. Instead, take the time to take a really good picture of you, and show that instead. if she asks why you don't have a cam, tell her the only reason you need that is for talking to people far away or for porn. You don't know anyone far away, and you prefer the real thing. I know you love porn, so do I, so does she (probably), but you're breaking the ice so don't get too creepy right away, it's called charm. Try and be clever. Also make subtle allusions to the fact that you might be entitled to a free show if she has a camera (Note: every girl who has told me that she would never do that has done that with me within an hour and a half of saying that. I know that sounds like a long time to wait, but if you mention it in the first place, it's probably worth it, and this girl was practically a stranger when you first met 10 minutes ago, so I think it's a pretty impressive progression).
If at first you don't succeed
This is like anything else, getting the way with words is a skill that needs to be practiced. Sure there are some naturally better than others, and no matter how many jump shots you take you might never get them to drop like Jordan, but you don't have to be Jordan to dominate a garage league (and face it most girls, even the hot ones, aren't the big leagues). So keep it up. Also read. I cannot stress this enough, other people are really good at writing, by reading their stuff it makes you better. I'm not saying rip their words directly, but you could get their patterns down, and make yourself as suave as you need to be.
Block Delete Repeat
Who needs their failures thrown back in their face. Get rid of them. Also if you succeed too well (and the girl hangs on like Jaws...man that movie rocked), well maybe a bit of e-distance is in order. Move on son, there's someone for everyone, and you'll find your special girl (for this weekend) eventually.
Stigmas are over people. It's not just the losers looking for love online anymore. Cool kids and hot chicks spend all of their time on the net too, so don't worry about looking like a tool. You're just using the resources available to you. You might want to double bag it the first time you hit that grocery store though, I mean she was willing to meet a stranger off of the internet after all...ZING! Also check that age...you never want to end up on Dateline's, "To catch a Predator". Although I kind of want you to, cuz that shit is just funny to me. Also if you end up here http://derrickcomedy.com/brorape.htm, I'm taping it and showing everyone I know.
and when you hit that bar with someone you never met but are probably gonna nail, get a drink for me too, you'll hear me in the back screaming
Cheers! First round's on...anyone but me!
So it's 9 AM (ush) and I'm writing the new article. Even though it can be argued that I am writing this a bit late, I can guarantee that The topic was developed yesterday (and man was it a clutch fucking brainstorm session). You see I have no problem talking a lot. I have a big mouth and can ramble off on basically any subject. This is key when you have an oral presentation that nobody has really worked on. Say your 5 slides, and let Toine field any question that comes up. I can't be beat. If I don't know the answer I'll make up something plausible so quickly, the other people in the room will think I rehearsed the Q & A with the person beforehand (If you don't believe me, hunt down Bram, and ask him about our Strategy class, where we met and almost instantly became Boyz, after a punched someone for being a bit TOO into his new laptop).
The point is though, that while I can ramble on for any point, I need a point to start with. I write this column almost everyday (I take weekends off, because damn if I don't need to be wrecked after "working" all week). and usually write the article you read in the morning the night before while you're sleeping or watching TV. I usually write it late at night because i'm scrambling to find new topics. Now don't pity me too much, because this usually just means that I bug Bramo while he should be studying, he mentions he needs some food, we get totally distracted, laugh our asses off, yell Boom a few times, and then I have a topic.
Girly was at my house yesterday, though so needless to say the distraction factor upped about a million percent (I measured). I hadn't seen her since Sunday, and she knew I wasn't going to see her all weekend (look for Monday's post on St-Patty's day and you'll see why). Basically she came to my place knowing that she had one day, maybe two to get a whole week's worth of Toine. She was more than willing to take that lovin if she had to, but I am devoted to you guys, so I needed at least a topic before I completely disregarded my responsibilities. I was talking to Bram, and as usual having a good time with it, but as soon as he heard the antics going on behind my back, he respected me for my ability to focus on a computer but really thought I should go handle my Business.
Ronnie however came through like a champ, telling me that A) I was gay for talking to two guys when I had a half naked Goddess in my bed waiting for me, and B) I should talk about msn or some junk like that. He also mentionned Facebook. Bram said, make sure you talk about hooking up though, and so here we are. Hooking up via MSN, with an injection of Facebook.
Facebook is the king of randomly getting in touch with people you haven't spoken to in forever (which for a 20 something is anythin longer than a year). I got on after about a year of constant harrassment from Katz (Michael Katz goes to McGill look him up sexy ladies. Not only is he funny and rich, but from what i've heard he's hung like a Donkey!). I originally did it to plug this site and the book I want to turn this site into. Since then all I have been doing is checking this FB shit. Facebook is addictive like crack, and I have a feeling that the more FB friends I get, the less actual friends I will have. Also there are people who add me, and I have no idea who they are. Katz calls it stalker book, I call it play it forward. Some weird ugmo adds me, I'll accept, check her friend list, and tag every hot chick on her list, and every dude who looks like he could sink a 3 when it's absolutely necessary. It's called options people.
And for some reason they all have their emails added to this, so you could also add them to MSN. Here is why macking chicks via MSN is not as loserly as you might think.
You can do it stupid
If you haven't been able to pick up chicks from a bar...you're in trouble. Odds are you lack self esteem, and basically have no game. This would be a good place for you to practice it. You're probably all awkward and sweaty and stammering and whatnot, well she can't see that. If you have a webcam, disable that shit. Instead, take the time to take a really good picture of you, and show that instead. if she asks why you don't have a cam, tell her the only reason you need that is for talking to people far away or for porn. You don't know anyone far away, and you prefer the real thing. I know you love porn, so do I, so does she (probably), but you're breaking the ice so don't get too creepy right away, it's called charm. Try and be clever. Also make subtle allusions to the fact that you might be entitled to a free show if she has a camera (Note: every girl who has told me that she would never do that has done that with me within an hour and a half of saying that. I know that sounds like a long time to wait, but if you mention it in the first place, it's probably worth it, and this girl was practically a stranger when you first met 10 minutes ago, so I think it's a pretty impressive progression).
If at first you don't succeed
This is like anything else, getting the way with words is a skill that needs to be practiced. Sure there are some naturally better than others, and no matter how many jump shots you take you might never get them to drop like Jordan, but you don't have to be Jordan to dominate a garage league (and face it most girls, even the hot ones, aren't the big leagues). So keep it up. Also read. I cannot stress this enough, other people are really good at writing, by reading their stuff it makes you better. I'm not saying rip their words directly, but you could get their patterns down, and make yourself as suave as you need to be.
Block Delete Repeat
Who needs their failures thrown back in their face. Get rid of them. Also if you succeed too well (and the girl hangs on like Jaws...man that movie rocked), well maybe a bit of e-distance is in order. Move on son, there's someone for everyone, and you'll find your special girl (for this weekend) eventually.
Stigmas are over people. It's not just the losers looking for love online anymore. Cool kids and hot chicks spend all of their time on the net too, so don't worry about looking like a tool. You're just using the resources available to you. You might want to double bag it the first time you hit that grocery store though, I mean she was willing to meet a stranger off of the internet after all...ZING! Also check that age...you never want to end up on Dateline's, "To catch a Predator". Although I kind of want you to, cuz that shit is just funny to me. Also if you end up here http://derrickcomedy.com/brorape.htm, I'm taping it and showing everyone I know.
and when you hit that bar with someone you never met but are probably gonna nail, get a drink for me too, you'll hear me in the back screaming
Cheers! First round's on...anyone but me!
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Sex and the Commentary
Back in the day when our parents wanted to bone, they had to make up lame excuses like "we're going to take a drive". With gas prices being what they are nowadays however, it's too expensive a ruse (the 13 bucks it costs to get to the corner can be better placed on booze, drugs and...tuition money?). Either way fiscal responsibility trumps parental respect any day, and most people tend to just fuck in their rooms with the TV on. I have a buddy who is really cool about it and he plays movies like The Notebook and Don Juan De Marco (which he says is like foreplay, but I think he just loves the Notebook and Bryan Adams music...which is actually really lovely stuff. When you really love a woman gives me chills and Im always happy when someone does it on AI).
Other people like my buddy Bramo put on whatever they have lying around, which if it isn't actually porn (like me) most often ends up being Family Guy. I find this to be a decent solution, but Bramo was telling me "It gets kinda distracting, because even if I have seen the episode a thousand times, I get caught up in it and start laughing at the jokes". Now this of course is a serious dilemma because no girl likes it when she's trying to do her best pornstar face and you laugh out loud. Also she'll never believe you were actually able to pay attention to a tv show while she was doing her thing, so she's going to think you were laughing at her. And if she thinks you were able to pay attention to the show, you're in shit for a completely different reason, and you'll probably never see that porn face again (and it was pretty sweet). Bram says to me, I would ideally like to have the sports highlights on. I immediately agreed, and here's why.
You need to know but it won't make you blow
If you have ever been privy to a conversation between a guy and his Boyz, you'd know that he is expected to be a veritable lexicon of sports information. He might not know when your mom's birthday is (or possibly yours...speaking of which Girly if you're reading this, and even though you said you wouldn't because you don't want me to censor my writing but I know you totally are anyways...liar, when is your birthday?)but he knows who scored the winning goals of every game in every season since he was born. This shit does not remember itself, he has to watch those highlights, and since we're in a multi tasking society, why not combine his two greatest passions?
Also it's not a very involved process because since it's only a 45 second clip, you can't get too into it, and so you'll still be able to devote most of your attention to her...and that's all she wants. Your complete and unadulterated adoration. I'm sure she realizes this is impossible, and she'll be reasonable, right?
You're so covered
On top of the shots that dropped, you'll also see the players that dropped. Luckily if you're able to keep quiet the facial expressions of a man reliving another man's pain after a bone crunching hit are the same as a man living his girl "crunching his bone(in a good way)" first-hand. However in these instances you are allowed to scream out, because your dad is probably watching the highlights downstairs and knows why you're screaming. Also he probably won't come upstairs to talk to you about it because
A) He is understanding of your privacy and knows you guys can talk when you're not with your girl
or
B) you're such an unbelievable disappointment that your father cannot meet your eye anymore, and still can't get over the fact that you cut out your head in a picture of you double fisting forties and sent it in with your application to University because it was "the most sober picture of you that you could find"
guess which one is me.
Practice makes perfect
We boyz have been watching sports since people called us sport. We know the tempo of every game, and have a sixth sense for when something big is going to happen. This is the same for the commentary, by the pitch of the announcers voice, we know when the ball is going all the way, and if you can time it just right, you can bust a nut just as the ball goes over the green monster. That's right Boyz, you just had 25,000 people cheering your orgasm! Pretty sweet, right? However If this is the first clip of the highlights and you and your girl have only been going at it for a minute, she probably isn't one of them.
oh well.
So that my friends is why you should try and keep it on sportsnet. Tell your girl that no other channel works, and if she reaches for the remote punch her, and then tell her that you love her so much and you would never hurt her, but that you're just so stressed at work and shit, and that her mom is a bitch (NOTE: Neither Toine or anyone working for Toine's Spot is involved in, or condones Domestic Abuse, and anything said that seems to cotradict this POV is strictly in the name of low brow comedy).
So when she kicks you out of your own house for being a horrible boyfriend, you know your boyz are all chillin at the Cage waiting for you anyways, and if the habs score 5 goals we get free wings. BOOM! Cuz I just dropped some knowledge
Cheers, first round's on...anyone but me!
Other people like my buddy Bramo put on whatever they have lying around, which if it isn't actually porn (like me) most often ends up being Family Guy. I find this to be a decent solution, but Bramo was telling me "It gets kinda distracting, because even if I have seen the episode a thousand times, I get caught up in it and start laughing at the jokes". Now this of course is a serious dilemma because no girl likes it when she's trying to do her best pornstar face and you laugh out loud. Also she'll never believe you were actually able to pay attention to a tv show while she was doing her thing, so she's going to think you were laughing at her. And if she thinks you were able to pay attention to the show, you're in shit for a completely different reason, and you'll probably never see that porn face again (and it was pretty sweet). Bram says to me, I would ideally like to have the sports highlights on. I immediately agreed, and here's why.
You need to know but it won't make you blow
If you have ever been privy to a conversation between a guy and his Boyz, you'd know that he is expected to be a veritable lexicon of sports information. He might not know when your mom's birthday is (or possibly yours...speaking of which Girly if you're reading this, and even though you said you wouldn't because you don't want me to censor my writing but I know you totally are anyways...liar, when is your birthday?)but he knows who scored the winning goals of every game in every season since he was born. This shit does not remember itself, he has to watch those highlights, and since we're in a multi tasking society, why not combine his two greatest passions?
Also it's not a very involved process because since it's only a 45 second clip, you can't get too into it, and so you'll still be able to devote most of your attention to her...and that's all she wants. Your complete and unadulterated adoration. I'm sure she realizes this is impossible, and she'll be reasonable, right?
You're so covered
On top of the shots that dropped, you'll also see the players that dropped. Luckily if you're able to keep quiet the facial expressions of a man reliving another man's pain after a bone crunching hit are the same as a man living his girl "crunching his bone(in a good way)" first-hand. However in these instances you are allowed to scream out, because your dad is probably watching the highlights downstairs and knows why you're screaming. Also he probably won't come upstairs to talk to you about it because
A) He is understanding of your privacy and knows you guys can talk when you're not with your girl
or
B) you're such an unbelievable disappointment that your father cannot meet your eye anymore, and still can't get over the fact that you cut out your head in a picture of you double fisting forties and sent it in with your application to University because it was "the most sober picture of you that you could find"
guess which one is me.
Practice makes perfect
We boyz have been watching sports since people called us sport. We know the tempo of every game, and have a sixth sense for when something big is going to happen. This is the same for the commentary, by the pitch of the announcers voice, we know when the ball is going all the way, and if you can time it just right, you can bust a nut just as the ball goes over the green monster. That's right Boyz, you just had 25,000 people cheering your orgasm! Pretty sweet, right? However If this is the first clip of the highlights and you and your girl have only been going at it for a minute, she probably isn't one of them.
oh well.
So that my friends is why you should try and keep it on sportsnet. Tell your girl that no other channel works, and if she reaches for the remote punch her, and then tell her that you love her so much and you would never hurt her, but that you're just so stressed at work and shit, and that her mom is a bitch (NOTE: Neither Toine or anyone working for Toine's Spot is involved in, or condones Domestic Abuse, and anything said that seems to cotradict this POV is strictly in the name of low brow comedy).
So when she kicks you out of your own house for being a horrible boyfriend, you know your boyz are all chillin at the Cage waiting for you anyways, and if the habs score 5 goals we get free wings. BOOM! Cuz I just dropped some knowledge
Cheers, first round's on...anyone but me!
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Dating is like prostitution, but you don't always get what you pay for?
Are you offended yet? Ok then let's continue. It's no secret by now that I am a fan of the fairer sex (considering they often tan more than us, and play relationships by a set of rules that none of us can fathom let alone actually win at, so how they are fairer is beyond me), you girls are beautiful (every woman is beautiful, some more than others, but they all do that thing where they put a towel around their head when they come out of a shower and brush their teeth naked, so all women drive me wild...except the fat ones), you're smart, and you have every right to call yourselves the equals to men. You might not be as physically strong as us, but in a world where the dominion of the planet belongs to the titans of industry, and the most powerful man on the planet looks like a kid I used to steal lunch money from (I'm talking about you Billie G), strength doesn't really matter. So if you're equal, why do we have to pick up the tab.
I was talking to a friend of mine, who happens to be an erotic dancer. First of all I am going to go forth and say that I have no problem with strippers, every stripper I know is a great girl, and this one in particular is the biggest sweetheart I know. She is not a whore, as a matter of fact she is several orders of magnitude less slutty than most people I know (including some accountants...well me anyways). She thinks I am handsome, and smart, and definitely going places...but she won't date me. One is that she's my sister's childhood friend, thus making me too young for her. But another big reason is that she refuses to ever pay the bill when we go out on a date, and I refuse to pay the bill every time we go out on a date. Why should I?
We both have jobs, and she makes triple my salary, and as such has developed tastes to accordingly. Why should I have to pay for everything, and why should I put myself into debt to just hang out with someone? Furthermore what does my paying for everything get me? Am i guaranteed to have a good time? Not exactly. Most of the girls I know who refuse to pick up the cheque tend to be as rigid in life as they are in their dating mentality, also as rigid in bed. Odds are any girl who thinks that there is a strict code of conduct for the fiscal policy of social interaction, won't let me hit her with a rubber chicken and call me daddy (not that I want to do this, I mean i have a rubber chicken, but i mean hey, doesn't everybody).
Nope. Even though you are looking at this hot chick, that you blew your two weeks worth of spending money to take out to the fancy restaurant, and the play or movie or whatever of her choice, you are not guaranteed anything. And funny enough you probably will only go home pissed thinking she's a whore if you DON'T get what you'd pay a whore for (funny how we boys work).
Now I play a completely different game. I am no Brad Pitt or George Clooney, but I have gotten enough girls in my life, that I am able to be choosy at this stage in the game. If I don't hook up with one, I'm reasonably sure another will come along soon enough, so I'm not overly worried. This state of choosiness (Which Katz will completely disagree with because by his standards I'll bang anything with a pulse. Not so good sir, no so.) has left me with certain criteria.
1. I don't go with Mormons. I am not one with a hard and fast rule of Fucking on the first date. If ti happens it happens, if it doesn't it doesn't. But there has to be some wiggle room, it has to be a possibility. If you don't even kiss on the first date, do not expect to see me for a second. Be open to all possibilities, and leave restrictions at the door. You're out with Toine now, and he doesn't do limitations.
you know what that is basically my only criterion. I only speak to people I find attractive, so it's not like I'll only date hot chicks, I tend to be surrounded by beautiful people, so it's not an issue. Personality is key, but you never know how someone is until you take them on a date.
I usually pay for the first date. I find it's only fair, because I asked her out. Now if she were to ask me out, I'm leaving my wallet at home. She came to me with an idea in mind for an evening out, I'm assuming she was planning on paying for it. With Girly it is ideal, because we both get paid every two weeks, but they're on opposite weeks. So when i get paid, I pay for the date, when she gets paid she pays (it's her week this week, and it had better be good if she wants me to put out. I'm talking a movie AND nachos). it's a beautiful thing, we both pay, and we both put out, a lot. Luckily for us we're both kind of slutty, so the worse the date the more we're likely to get down, just to add some fun to the evening (our first date was me taking a study break and her ditching some other loser she was already on a date with. Ahhhh, l'amour)
So basically that's it ladies. if you don't want the guy to think you owe him anything, pay. And the he owes you.
Cheers! First round's on...anyone who thinks we're all equals!
I was talking to a friend of mine, who happens to be an erotic dancer. First of all I am going to go forth and say that I have no problem with strippers, every stripper I know is a great girl, and this one in particular is the biggest sweetheart I know. She is not a whore, as a matter of fact she is several orders of magnitude less slutty than most people I know (including some accountants...well me anyways). She thinks I am handsome, and smart, and definitely going places...but she won't date me. One is that she's my sister's childhood friend, thus making me too young for her. But another big reason is that she refuses to ever pay the bill when we go out on a date, and I refuse to pay the bill every time we go out on a date. Why should I?
We both have jobs, and she makes triple my salary, and as such has developed tastes to accordingly. Why should I have to pay for everything, and why should I put myself into debt to just hang out with someone? Furthermore what does my paying for everything get me? Am i guaranteed to have a good time? Not exactly. Most of the girls I know who refuse to pick up the cheque tend to be as rigid in life as they are in their dating mentality, also as rigid in bed. Odds are any girl who thinks that there is a strict code of conduct for the fiscal policy of social interaction, won't let me hit her with a rubber chicken and call me daddy (not that I want to do this, I mean i have a rubber chicken, but i mean hey, doesn't everybody).
Nope. Even though you are looking at this hot chick, that you blew your two weeks worth of spending money to take out to the fancy restaurant, and the play or movie or whatever of her choice, you are not guaranteed anything. And funny enough you probably will only go home pissed thinking she's a whore if you DON'T get what you'd pay a whore for (funny how we boys work).
Now I play a completely different game. I am no Brad Pitt or George Clooney, but I have gotten enough girls in my life, that I am able to be choosy at this stage in the game. If I don't hook up with one, I'm reasonably sure another will come along soon enough, so I'm not overly worried. This state of choosiness (Which Katz will completely disagree with because by his standards I'll bang anything with a pulse. Not so good sir, no so.) has left me with certain criteria.
1. I don't go with Mormons. I am not one with a hard and fast rule of Fucking on the first date. If ti happens it happens, if it doesn't it doesn't. But there has to be some wiggle room, it has to be a possibility. If you don't even kiss on the first date, do not expect to see me for a second. Be open to all possibilities, and leave restrictions at the door. You're out with Toine now, and he doesn't do limitations.
you know what that is basically my only criterion. I only speak to people I find attractive, so it's not like I'll only date hot chicks, I tend to be surrounded by beautiful people, so it's not an issue. Personality is key, but you never know how someone is until you take them on a date.
I usually pay for the first date. I find it's only fair, because I asked her out. Now if she were to ask me out, I'm leaving my wallet at home. She came to me with an idea in mind for an evening out, I'm assuming she was planning on paying for it. With Girly it is ideal, because we both get paid every two weeks, but they're on opposite weeks. So when i get paid, I pay for the date, when she gets paid she pays (it's her week this week, and it had better be good if she wants me to put out. I'm talking a movie AND nachos). it's a beautiful thing, we both pay, and we both put out, a lot. Luckily for us we're both kind of slutty, so the worse the date the more we're likely to get down, just to add some fun to the evening (our first date was me taking a study break and her ditching some other loser she was already on a date with. Ahhhh, l'amour)
So basically that's it ladies. if you don't want the guy to think you owe him anything, pay. And the he owes you.
Cheers! First round's on...anyone who thinks we're all equals!
Monday, March 12, 2007
Laid Off...Or Just Laid
Hi All,
So I'm moving out in a month, life is good right? I have no furniture, nor have I found an apartment yet for the date I want, but every time I look online there are a ton of listings, and I'm getting back mad tax money, so I am cautiously optimistic. Also I am in the planning stages of a new business venture, that may or may not be the answer to my life's conundrum (that being the fact that I want money, but have no desire to wake up early, or wear pants). Life should be good, but it's not.
I was visiting my JuJu this weekend (one of the most gorgeous girls I will never hook up with. This isn't that big of a problem because she's my niece, but heaven help the first boy who does try to score with her), when I was forced to do the customary, "How's Work" with my brother-in-law. I hate this conversation, because it is the most fake stuff I ever do in a day. I do enough accounting myself (which isn't even all that much) without having to hear about someone else's. Plus he works for another company than mine, so he can't even tell me specifics. What he did tell me was that a bunch of people from his office were fired. Of course he used the term Laid Off, but there wasn't really that much laying going on (although everyone did get pretty fucked, so maybe it's a more apt term than I had originally surmised). My brother in law was quick to assure me that only the lazy ones, without any career advancement goals were terminated. This did not help me, because I am lazy and not with many career advancement goals, save only for finding where the best coffee machine is, and how far I can go at the company without doing any real work.
Then I started to think about it. How bad would it really be if I was laid off right now? At this stage in the game, I am making about 15 dollars an hour. I can easily find another job that pays that much, even if it is only telemarketing. Now true that job sucks, but it sucks by the hour. Currently I am on a salary, which means that if I am doing any overtime, I am doing it for the love of work. At least at a telemarketing job, if I work 60 hours, I get paid for 60 hours.
Also an added bonus of the low class life, is that I meet some pretty cool people. That is not to say I haven't met some winners where I work now (Lord knows that the rank of Boyz has increased by a boy or two), but the majority of the people I meet at my job, are so driven and dedicated, that it makes me feel bad when I come to the realization, that our job is pretty meaningless, except to make rich people richer. If the economy were to crash tomorrow, Accounting and Finance would be irrelevant. The tellers of stories would still be necessary, and we would all do a lot more hunting gathering and farming, but there would be no billion dollar businesses who spend more time spouting their initials than actually rendering a viable service to the average man. This may seem unlikely, but I still come to this revelation two to three times a day.
The people in a low-class environment (I'd say minimum wage, but these people make a ton of money, they are simply uneducated, so let's say minimum wage of the soul) are among the most interesting people I have ever met. The men are rougher and more prone to thug mentality, the women are less proper at the work place (think low cut shirts and high cut skirts, they're really working for that promotion!) You get to see younger people still trying to make something of their life, and older people coming to the realization that they probably never will. It's a writer's dream, a cast of characters so thick, that the books practically write themselves. Also hooking up at the office is not a stigma, it's a way to pass your break.
So am I worried about losing my job? Sort of. It would be awkward to explain to people how I got tossed from the "perfect job", but it would not be catastrophic. Fuck I could start working nights again, and sleep in till 11am everyday. Shit I might try to get tossed...after I use up my dental plan, vacation days, and get that Lasik surgery I was planning on.
So who cares if it's only 10am, we're unemployed, let's hit the bar!
Cheers, first round's on...whoever still has a fucking job!
So I'm moving out in a month, life is good right? I have no furniture, nor have I found an apartment yet for the date I want, but every time I look online there are a ton of listings, and I'm getting back mad tax money, so I am cautiously optimistic. Also I am in the planning stages of a new business venture, that may or may not be the answer to my life's conundrum (that being the fact that I want money, but have no desire to wake up early, or wear pants). Life should be good, but it's not.
I was visiting my JuJu this weekend (one of the most gorgeous girls I will never hook up with. This isn't that big of a problem because she's my niece, but heaven help the first boy who does try to score with her), when I was forced to do the customary, "How's Work" with my brother-in-law. I hate this conversation, because it is the most fake stuff I ever do in a day. I do enough accounting myself (which isn't even all that much) without having to hear about someone else's. Plus he works for another company than mine, so he can't even tell me specifics. What he did tell me was that a bunch of people from his office were fired. Of course he used the term Laid Off, but there wasn't really that much laying going on (although everyone did get pretty fucked, so maybe it's a more apt term than I had originally surmised). My brother in law was quick to assure me that only the lazy ones, without any career advancement goals were terminated. This did not help me, because I am lazy and not with many career advancement goals, save only for finding where the best coffee machine is, and how far I can go at the company without doing any real work.
Then I started to think about it. How bad would it really be if I was laid off right now? At this stage in the game, I am making about 15 dollars an hour. I can easily find another job that pays that much, even if it is only telemarketing. Now true that job sucks, but it sucks by the hour. Currently I am on a salary, which means that if I am doing any overtime, I am doing it for the love of work. At least at a telemarketing job, if I work 60 hours, I get paid for 60 hours.
Also an added bonus of the low class life, is that I meet some pretty cool people. That is not to say I haven't met some winners where I work now (Lord knows that the rank of Boyz has increased by a boy or two), but the majority of the people I meet at my job, are so driven and dedicated, that it makes me feel bad when I come to the realization, that our job is pretty meaningless, except to make rich people richer. If the economy were to crash tomorrow, Accounting and Finance would be irrelevant. The tellers of stories would still be necessary, and we would all do a lot more hunting gathering and farming, but there would be no billion dollar businesses who spend more time spouting their initials than actually rendering a viable service to the average man. This may seem unlikely, but I still come to this revelation two to three times a day.
The people in a low-class environment (I'd say minimum wage, but these people make a ton of money, they are simply uneducated, so let's say minimum wage of the soul) are among the most interesting people I have ever met. The men are rougher and more prone to thug mentality, the women are less proper at the work place (think low cut shirts and high cut skirts, they're really working for that promotion!) You get to see younger people still trying to make something of their life, and older people coming to the realization that they probably never will. It's a writer's dream, a cast of characters so thick, that the books practically write themselves. Also hooking up at the office is not a stigma, it's a way to pass your break.
So am I worried about losing my job? Sort of. It would be awkward to explain to people how I got tossed from the "perfect job", but it would not be catastrophic. Fuck I could start working nights again, and sleep in till 11am everyday. Shit I might try to get tossed...after I use up my dental plan, vacation days, and get that Lasik surgery I was planning on.
So who cares if it's only 10am, we're unemployed, let's hit the bar!
Cheers, first round's on...whoever still has a fucking job!
Friday, March 9, 2007
High Times
Hey All,
So I'm a bit late posting this, and that is simply because I have started being sick, and so the creative juices weren't flowing so well (every other juice is flowing too well). Being sick however didn't stop me from going out last night, it simply stopped me from getting to work on time, and will definitely stop me from staying the whole day now that I am here.
Last night I went out to watch a Hockey game with Girly, and then out with Bram and the Boyz (Girly neither came, gave me shit about going, or gave me shit at 1 in the morning when I woke her up to let me in the apartment. She did tell me to have fun when I left, and have sex with me when she was half asleep when I stumbled in, take notes ladies).
This may come as a surprise to some, but often times when hanging out with my friends, I am not entirely sober!!! I was thinking it over in Girly's bed this morning (she left earlier, and left me the keys so I coudl sleep in), and though I can't say I love Girly yet (being as how I haven't known her long enough), I could easily say that if I am going to love someone, she is the type. And then I started thinking about how wrecked I was last night, and how much fun I had last night. And then it hit me, being in love is exactly like being drunk/high/some combination of the two.
You see things that aren't there
Whether you have been eating the magic mushrooms, or met the man or girl of your dreams, you tend to hallucinate a bit. On the sticky icky, you tend to see shapes distorting themselves, on acid you see the music melting as Hendrix lays another sick riff, on Extasy you see love...everywhere. On love you see potential, even where it doesn't belong. This explains why girls could be in love with losers. It's because something about the chemicals in their brain goes wonky on the L-word, that makes them think that spike is a great guy, and that his time in jail will give him a better perspective to his writing. He might use paper now for his poems, instead of the flesh of the wicked. It's the thought that counts right?
You Laugh at jokes that aren't funny
I spent the better part of my life laughing my ass off last night (actually i spent the better part of my night thinking about how much I love Doritos and Twix, but a good part was laughing). I went over my evening this morning, running through the jokes I heard, wondering which ones were actually golden and good to use, and honestly I can't think of any (it is worth mentioning though that Ronnie is supercool, Firszt is so Hef it's not funny and Selvin loves Fisher, and is willing to explain to you why...for way too long). Love is very much the same way. You ladies have it the worst. For some reason, when you are into us boys, everything we say is comedic gold. You laugh at our jokes like we were Eddie Murphy on a roll in Delirious (if you don't know what this is...go fucking rent it). Us boys are not immune to the giggles either, but we tend to just laugh at your stories when we're trying to get into your pants...so that's not love...or is it?
If you're happy and you know it, don't do anything!
How cliche is it that lovers can spend hours looking longingly into each other's eyes. I can't say I have done this for extended periods of time, but i know that the best times i have had wit Girly have involved not much leaving my room (and it wasn't all sex either). If you're really into someone, you don't need to go out all the time, just chilling with them is enough for you. Well if you're cracked out of your head (on any combination of illicit substances), you don't really need to do much to have a good time either. I spent a few hours last night watching the Boyz play hockey on PS2 and let me tell you, it was good times.
So there you have it, if you want love, maybe you can find it at the bottom of a bottle, or at the tip of the filter (that's where the good stuff is right Bramo), and if not, at least you'll develop a dependency that'll require group therapy, and there's alot of hugging there. Any contact is good contact right?
Cheers! First round's on...anyone but me, oh and I have a problem...where's my hugs bitches!
So I'm a bit late posting this, and that is simply because I have started being sick, and so the creative juices weren't flowing so well (every other juice is flowing too well). Being sick however didn't stop me from going out last night, it simply stopped me from getting to work on time, and will definitely stop me from staying the whole day now that I am here.
Last night I went out to watch a Hockey game with Girly, and then out with Bram and the Boyz (Girly neither came, gave me shit about going, or gave me shit at 1 in the morning when I woke her up to let me in the apartment. She did tell me to have fun when I left, and have sex with me when she was half asleep when I stumbled in, take notes ladies).
This may come as a surprise to some, but often times when hanging out with my friends, I am not entirely sober!!! I was thinking it over in Girly's bed this morning (she left earlier, and left me the keys so I coudl sleep in), and though I can't say I love Girly yet (being as how I haven't known her long enough), I could easily say that if I am going to love someone, she is the type. And then I started thinking about how wrecked I was last night, and how much fun I had last night. And then it hit me, being in love is exactly like being drunk/high/some combination of the two.
You see things that aren't there
Whether you have been eating the magic mushrooms, or met the man or girl of your dreams, you tend to hallucinate a bit. On the sticky icky, you tend to see shapes distorting themselves, on acid you see the music melting as Hendrix lays another sick riff, on Extasy you see love...everywhere. On love you see potential, even where it doesn't belong. This explains why girls could be in love with losers. It's because something about the chemicals in their brain goes wonky on the L-word, that makes them think that spike is a great guy, and that his time in jail will give him a better perspective to his writing. He might use paper now for his poems, instead of the flesh of the wicked. It's the thought that counts right?
You Laugh at jokes that aren't funny
I spent the better part of my life laughing my ass off last night (actually i spent the better part of my night thinking about how much I love Doritos and Twix, but a good part was laughing). I went over my evening this morning, running through the jokes I heard, wondering which ones were actually golden and good to use, and honestly I can't think of any (it is worth mentioning though that Ronnie is supercool, Firszt is so Hef it's not funny and Selvin loves Fisher, and is willing to explain to you why...for way too long). Love is very much the same way. You ladies have it the worst. For some reason, when you are into us boys, everything we say is comedic gold. You laugh at our jokes like we were Eddie Murphy on a roll in Delirious (if you don't know what this is...go fucking rent it). Us boys are not immune to the giggles either, but we tend to just laugh at your stories when we're trying to get into your pants...so that's not love...or is it?
If you're happy and you know it, don't do anything!
How cliche is it that lovers can spend hours looking longingly into each other's eyes. I can't say I have done this for extended periods of time, but i know that the best times i have had wit Girly have involved not much leaving my room (and it wasn't all sex either). If you're really into someone, you don't need to go out all the time, just chilling with them is enough for you. Well if you're cracked out of your head (on any combination of illicit substances), you don't really need to do much to have a good time either. I spent a few hours last night watching the Boyz play hockey on PS2 and let me tell you, it was good times.
So there you have it, if you want love, maybe you can find it at the bottom of a bottle, or at the tip of the filter (that's where the good stuff is right Bramo), and if not, at least you'll develop a dependency that'll require group therapy, and there's alot of hugging there. Any contact is good contact right?
Cheers! First round's on...anyone but me, oh and I have a problem...where's my hugs bitches!
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
Idle Worship
I grew up in a small Christian town. As such there was one constant in my life: Sunday School. This is the summer camp for Christians (Jewish kids are all nodding their heads in understanding right now). Our parents never shipped us off to play murder ball for a few weeks a year, but they did send us to learn about our God. I spent hours in private tutorials with my local priest, and he put the fear of God in me the only way he knew how. Luckily at my church the Priest beat me, he kicked my ass hard (As opposed to some churches where the priest would have beaten me off and licked my ass. Actually come to think about it had a nun did that to me, I might have paid more attention during the sermon). I went every week from the age of 5 until I was 12. I could have kept going, but by that time the negative thoughts started popping into my head and my pants simultaneously, and any religion that told me I couldn’t get wasted and had to wait for marriage to have sex was not for me. I don’t want commitment now, imagine how unready for it I was ten years ago!
Before my head was firmly in the gutter, it was up in the clouds. Prior to my descent into depravity, I was pretty much a lock for the pearly gates. During those golden years I was something of a religious prodigy, and every now and then I have a backslide into religious scholarship.
The first commandment says, I am the Lord thy God, thou shalt not take any before me. Basically this is one of the biggies, you don’t take the lord’s name in vain, and you don’t worship idols. I personally worried about that one from the get-go, as I am a fan of cursing (as anyone who has known me for 5 God-Damned minutes will tell you) and I have had a few idols in my day. Here’s the reasons why I think people can and should worship “false” idols
They’re there
Now while it is true that no religion has as many statues and monuments to their lord and savior as Christianity, you never get the sense that god is Chillin in the back at church. I have a 3-D poster of Superman in my room (a gift from my 4 year old nephew who thought my lava lamp and black light didn’t add enough flair to my room, and thought it was a suitable replacement for the two chicks making out poster I already had up. This has nothing to do with my Mother saying it was too obscene for a 4 year old to see), and I swear to God (there I go again), I feel like he’s going to crash into me sometime. True enough I spend a lot of time looking at it in altered states, but still in a fist fight between Jesus and Superman who do you think would win?
They need the Praise
God created the universe. He was there at the beginning, and knows how it all ends. Do you think he seriously gives a flying fuck if you say your Hail Mary’s while fingering some beads. Joe Pesci on the other hand, hasn’t made a decent flick in forever, but he was in Casino and GoodFellas, that alone should be reason enough for you to give him a ring from time to time to say, “Way to stab that Jerk-off in the neck Joe”. I know some of you are saying right now, “Dude, it was a fucking movie, he didn’t actually beat a guy with a baseball bat”. I answer that by reminding you that Joe Pesci is like 5 foot 4 and ways maybe 160 (if he let himself get fat). Would you ever walk up to him and call him a pussy? Fuck No! Joe Bless You if you did. Same idea goes for Pauly Shore, in the shitty humor department, and if you think God doesn’t have one of those, look at a platypus. Washed up celebrities need love too, and they have the kind of time on their hands to appreciate it.
They answer your prayers from time to time
I’m not saying that they actually will do anything for you, but since I haven’t woken up with superpowers, immortality, and unlimited riches, I think it’s fairly safe to say God isn’t doing the prayer answering thing either. All things considered though, I don’t think he should. He made the air that I breathe and all the food that I eat…and boobs, I think he can chill for a few eons and I’d still say he’s aces. Celebrity idols do answer from time to time. And I don’t mean that automated, “Thanks for joining my fan club” bullshit (Damn you Justin, I just want to Chill!!!), I mean an actual response.
Anyone who knows me knows that I am a slacker who drinks too much, smokes too much, works too little, and hooks up often enough to give out advice without looking like a total retard. I also am funny from time to time. Well I am currently idolizing a man named Aaron Karo. He is a comedian, who is a slacker like me, except he quit his good job on Wall Street, and now writes all day long, cracking guys up like me in our cubicles, touring college campuses in the states, and macking up freshman who don’t know any better (I still never miss frosh). I was feeling particularly insightful but lost one night, and I wrote to him on his website stating that I wanted to live a life like his. He wrote me back within 10 minutes and told me to keep writing, it was the only way to make it. I was freaking out! An actual response! I wrote him back a few weeks later, telling him I started up this site, and that he should check it out.
He wrote me back this morning telling me that he was happy to see me keeping at it, and that he liked the way I went about doing this. Now he didn’t promote me on his site (which has over 50,000 members and would almost guarantee that I become popular), he didn’t tell me the secret to his success, but he did write back, and I am really happy he did.
So basically I am going to hell, I knew it was coming, I’m just waiting to see what crazy shenanigan set me over the top. It can’t be all bad though, cuz all the alcoholic, druggie whores are going to be there, and who wants to party with Mormons and Jehovah’s Witnesses?
So when we get to Morning Star’s Fall (which if it isn’t the name of the Devil’s bar I totally shotgun it), you’ll hear me screaming over the wails
Cheers, first round’s on…anyone but me! And leave the fucking pitch fork alone, I got the point the first 120,000 times (I only realized that was a pun when I edited this).
Before my head was firmly in the gutter, it was up in the clouds. Prior to my descent into depravity, I was pretty much a lock for the pearly gates. During those golden years I was something of a religious prodigy, and every now and then I have a backslide into religious scholarship.
The first commandment says, I am the Lord thy God, thou shalt not take any before me. Basically this is one of the biggies, you don’t take the lord’s name in vain, and you don’t worship idols. I personally worried about that one from the get-go, as I am a fan of cursing (as anyone who has known me for 5 God-Damned minutes will tell you) and I have had a few idols in my day. Here’s the reasons why I think people can and should worship “false” idols
They’re there
Now while it is true that no religion has as many statues and monuments to their lord and savior as Christianity, you never get the sense that god is Chillin in the back at church. I have a 3-D poster of Superman in my room (a gift from my 4 year old nephew who thought my lava lamp and black light didn’t add enough flair to my room, and thought it was a suitable replacement for the two chicks making out poster I already had up. This has nothing to do with my Mother saying it was too obscene for a 4 year old to see), and I swear to God (there I go again), I feel like he’s going to crash into me sometime. True enough I spend a lot of time looking at it in altered states, but still in a fist fight between Jesus and Superman who do you think would win?
They need the Praise
God created the universe. He was there at the beginning, and knows how it all ends. Do you think he seriously gives a flying fuck if you say your Hail Mary’s while fingering some beads. Joe Pesci on the other hand, hasn’t made a decent flick in forever, but he was in Casino and GoodFellas, that alone should be reason enough for you to give him a ring from time to time to say, “Way to stab that Jerk-off in the neck Joe”. I know some of you are saying right now, “Dude, it was a fucking movie, he didn’t actually beat a guy with a baseball bat”. I answer that by reminding you that Joe Pesci is like 5 foot 4 and ways maybe 160 (if he let himself get fat). Would you ever walk up to him and call him a pussy? Fuck No! Joe Bless You if you did. Same idea goes for Pauly Shore, in the shitty humor department, and if you think God doesn’t have one of those, look at a platypus. Washed up celebrities need love too, and they have the kind of time on their hands to appreciate it.
They answer your prayers from time to time
I’m not saying that they actually will do anything for you, but since I haven’t woken up with superpowers, immortality, and unlimited riches, I think it’s fairly safe to say God isn’t doing the prayer answering thing either. All things considered though, I don’t think he should. He made the air that I breathe and all the food that I eat…and boobs, I think he can chill for a few eons and I’d still say he’s aces. Celebrity idols do answer from time to time. And I don’t mean that automated, “Thanks for joining my fan club” bullshit (Damn you Justin, I just want to Chill!!!), I mean an actual response.
Anyone who knows me knows that I am a slacker who drinks too much, smokes too much, works too little, and hooks up often enough to give out advice without looking like a total retard. I also am funny from time to time. Well I am currently idolizing a man named Aaron Karo. He is a comedian, who is a slacker like me, except he quit his good job on Wall Street, and now writes all day long, cracking guys up like me in our cubicles, touring college campuses in the states, and macking up freshman who don’t know any better (I still never miss frosh). I was feeling particularly insightful but lost one night, and I wrote to him on his website stating that I wanted to live a life like his. He wrote me back within 10 minutes and told me to keep writing, it was the only way to make it. I was freaking out! An actual response! I wrote him back a few weeks later, telling him I started up this site, and that he should check it out.
He wrote me back this morning telling me that he was happy to see me keeping at it, and that he liked the way I went about doing this. Now he didn’t promote me on his site (which has over 50,000 members and would almost guarantee that I become popular), he didn’t tell me the secret to his success, but he did write back, and I am really happy he did.
So basically I am going to hell, I knew it was coming, I’m just waiting to see what crazy shenanigan set me over the top. It can’t be all bad though, cuz all the alcoholic, druggie whores are going to be there, and who wants to party with Mormons and Jehovah’s Witnesses?
So when we get to Morning Star’s Fall (which if it isn’t the name of the Devil’s bar I totally shotgun it), you’ll hear me screaming over the wails
Cheers, first round’s on…anyone but me! And leave the fucking pitch fork alone, I got the point the first 120,000 times (I only realized that was a pun when I edited this).
Tuesday, March 6, 2007
Dipping your pen in the company ink
I want to start this off by saying, I have not had any inter-office romances where I work right now. This is not for lack of women. I am blessed to be surrounded by some of the best looking women in Montreal. Moreover, they are amongst the most intelligent people I have ever met. All things considered, I am far too intimidated to try and hook up with any of these women, because frankly, I would probably want to marry them, and we all know that's not what I'm looking for. But for those of you looking to add some awkwardness to your workspace, here's an objective look at the pros and cons.
Pro: It's taboo
There is nothing like doing the wrong thing to make you feel so right. You've been in the same tight workplace for hours, meeting deadlines, helping each other out. You wallow in mutual success, you console each other in mutual defeat. And as happy as you guys are, no one that isn't in the team seems to understand. Maybe it's the long hours, bad food or overwhelming stress, but I think she was giving you the eye bro...get in there. You'll have to keep it quiet though, because once that rumour mill gets spinning...
Con: You cannot keep that shit a secret
...you are completely fucked! There is no way that shit is staying a secret. if you got it on with the hottie in the block (face it boys and girls we got out of the sand box spent tens of thousands of dollars to be put right back into a cube) you're telling all of your boys. If you hit it with the IT troll, she's mass E-Mailing everyone. Either way, loose lips sink ships, and as far as that metaphor goes, big offices are the fucking titanic in an iceberg blender. I hope it was worth it because now you're stuck dating her, or you'll look like a player, and players don't do well in an increasingly female workplace. It's like being retarded and playing one on one against Michael Jordan. You're completely dominated from the get-go. Even if they do throw you a bone and let you have a drive to the hoop now and then, you still dribble like a retard and will probably shit yourself. Now that might not make too much sense, but I like the visual, it makes me giggle.
Pro: She's close and easily accessible
Let's face it, we're overworked and underpaid. I mean, we make more than the guy's at blockbuster, but we can't come to work blazed and watch movies all day, so it really just evens out. In order to enjoy your work you need to have some benefits. And I'm not talking about dental plan (although oral attention is key). I have a friend of mine who was talking to me about quitting his job two days ago. Today he's telling me how an older woman at work seems easy prey for an extra-marital affair. His exact words were "I think she'd totally be into it, and then you should get to work on her Toine". Cuz Boyz share...even skeezez at work. Keep her warm for me Dude, I'm back in the office in 3 weeks!
Con: She's close and easily accessible
Remember that girl you banged one night when you got drunk who wouldn't leave you alone cuz she said you were the best thing that ever happened to her? OK, you remember that chick I banged one night who wouldn't leave me alone cuz she said that I was the best thing that ever happened to her. Remember about how we laughed when she called me 10 times a day. And how nervous I looked when she kept texting me? Remember how I radically changed my haircut when she sent me those dead roses? Now imagine if you couldn't avoid it cuz she worked right next to you. I haven't been with that many girls, but I know I've never been with one forever. Therefore it's my contention that the vast majority of relationships end. We all know my, "just stay friends" point of view (it doesn't happen). If you start something, and end it, it'll come around and bite you in the ass.
So there you have it boys and girls, there's some good to fucking the payroll, and there's some bad. It might seem like a fun game, but in the end, the girl gossip network will kill you. If you do all the right things, they'll spread the word that you're too good to be true, and you're a player. Result...you can't find a fucking stapler to save your life and your Internet won't work. If you do all the wrong things, you're an asshole jerk player, and your computer will occasionally disappear, as will your boss' car. Don't worry they'll at least find the keys, in your desk.
So you're fired and drinking at the bar, when you see the two guys in the back talking to the questionable older lady, that's me and my boy, working on that bonus.
Cheers, first round's on...anyone but me!
Pro: It's taboo
There is nothing like doing the wrong thing to make you feel so right. You've been in the same tight workplace for hours, meeting deadlines, helping each other out. You wallow in mutual success, you console each other in mutual defeat. And as happy as you guys are, no one that isn't in the team seems to understand. Maybe it's the long hours, bad food or overwhelming stress, but I think she was giving you the eye bro...get in there. You'll have to keep it quiet though, because once that rumour mill gets spinning...
Con: You cannot keep that shit a secret
...you are completely fucked! There is no way that shit is staying a secret. if you got it on with the hottie in the block (face it boys and girls we got out of the sand box spent tens of thousands of dollars to be put right back into a cube) you're telling all of your boys. If you hit it with the IT troll, she's mass E-Mailing everyone. Either way, loose lips sink ships, and as far as that metaphor goes, big offices are the fucking titanic in an iceberg blender. I hope it was worth it because now you're stuck dating her, or you'll look like a player, and players don't do well in an increasingly female workplace. It's like being retarded and playing one on one against Michael Jordan. You're completely dominated from the get-go. Even if they do throw you a bone and let you have a drive to the hoop now and then, you still dribble like a retard and will probably shit yourself. Now that might not make too much sense, but I like the visual, it makes me giggle.
Pro: She's close and easily accessible
Let's face it, we're overworked and underpaid. I mean, we make more than the guy's at blockbuster, but we can't come to work blazed and watch movies all day, so it really just evens out. In order to enjoy your work you need to have some benefits. And I'm not talking about dental plan (although oral attention is key). I have a friend of mine who was talking to me about quitting his job two days ago. Today he's telling me how an older woman at work seems easy prey for an extra-marital affair. His exact words were "I think she'd totally be into it, and then you should get to work on her Toine". Cuz Boyz share...even skeezez at work. Keep her warm for me Dude, I'm back in the office in 3 weeks!
Con: She's close and easily accessible
Remember that girl you banged one night when you got drunk who wouldn't leave you alone cuz she said you were the best thing that ever happened to her? OK, you remember that chick I banged one night who wouldn't leave me alone cuz she said that I was the best thing that ever happened to her. Remember about how we laughed when she called me 10 times a day. And how nervous I looked when she kept texting me? Remember how I radically changed my haircut when she sent me those dead roses? Now imagine if you couldn't avoid it cuz she worked right next to you. I haven't been with that many girls, but I know I've never been with one forever. Therefore it's my contention that the vast majority of relationships end. We all know my, "just stay friends" point of view (it doesn't happen). If you start something, and end it, it'll come around and bite you in the ass.
So there you have it boys and girls, there's some good to fucking the payroll, and there's some bad. It might seem like a fun game, but in the end, the girl gossip network will kill you. If you do all the right things, they'll spread the word that you're too good to be true, and you're a player. Result...you can't find a fucking stapler to save your life and your Internet won't work. If you do all the wrong things, you're an asshole jerk player, and your computer will occasionally disappear, as will your boss' car. Don't worry they'll at least find the keys, in your desk.
So you're fired and drinking at the bar, when you see the two guys in the back talking to the questionable older lady, that's me and my boy, working on that bonus.
Cheers, first round's on...anyone but me!
Monday, March 5, 2007
You mean the world to me...now what's your name again?
This topic is going to go over some of your heads right now. You might still live with your parents, so taking someone home at the end of your night makes absolutely no sense. My parents were degenerates just like me, and so I basically have been doing whatever I wanted since I was nine (boy did the fun ramp up when I was 13). Basically to those of you uninitiated, the only sex you have received has been self-inflicted (and I say it like it is an injury...seriously get off your ass and get some ass) or with a steady girlfriend (which probably makes you wish you were doing yourself most of the time, at least you don't need to set the mood for yourself to get some play...even though you do anyways, because candles are fun).
To those of us who moved out of their broken homes, or moved on for higher education (a shit load higher right Bramo), or were raised by wolves like me, sometimes you meet the girl of your dreams, and like a dream, she's gone by morning. It's like Cinderella except she comes to your place at bar closing time, and is gone by 6, and she doesn't turn into a pumpkin (well there was that one time, but I was on shrooms, and it was actually a pumpkin the whole time, but we don't talk about that anymore).
So for today's installment, I'm going to explain how to set up a great one-night stand. It's not that hard, and can be lots of fun, as long as you're both consenting, trust each other and have mutual respect for each other. Because that's what hook-ups are about...respect. hmm
Location Location Location
With the exception one crazy time on the 12th floor of Concordia one night before a midterm, odds are you're not picking up too many prospects in the library, if you do you have no need for any advice from anyone because your game is already very solid. Also if you have managed to bang someone from school, in school, you have the right to brag about it at every opportunity. Seriously I tried to write it in my grandmother's 80th birthday card but I couldn't figure out how to rhyme, "She totally beejed me in a hallway" with anything nearly related to her birthday, so I just wrote it on the envelope. I'm not allowed at family functions anymore, and fuck them, empty house for me!!!
Basically if you're trying to prey on the defenseless, go where they let their gaurds down. So for the most part, leave clubs alone. That's where rapists go, and with good reason. Girls go with supergroups involving a few prowling males to keep us prowling males away. They don't drink much, they're there to dance. You'd have to dope them up to lure them away from that sort of defense, and if that sounds like a good idea to you, awesome! Just leave a comment saying that you think that's the best way to score. Also leave your full name and address there so I can tell the poli...hot chicks that want to do it with you. The best place to pick up a one night stand is at a bar. odds are if she's at a bar, she wants to get drunk. Once she gets drunk, she wants to make some bad decisions. That could be you Chief...just play it cool.
He who comes last...comes
We've all seen the guy who talks up a girl at 11:27 on a ladies night. he knows her free drinks are stopping in 3 minutes, and he's there to pick up the slack. She's pretty wrecked by this point, and'll probably make out with him. What does this shmuck do...he follows her around all night, basically bugging the hell out of her. Every girl I know has mentioned on of these guys to me...don't be this guy. Go out with your Boyz, and enjoy your Boyz. Buy yourselves some drinks, laugh about previous stupidities, as well as at the one guy at your table who will chase a girl at 11:27... If you think you don't have a guy like that in your group, You're that guy.
As an added benefit, the line, "I've been watching you all night" sort of works if the girl can do some math in her head and figure that "yeah I have been here more than 7 minutes, maybe this guy isn't full of shit" Also you have been chilling all night not throwing your game at anyone who can catch it. So if you tell her, "I wasn't planning on going home with anyone, but you seem different" she'll at least pretend to buy it, without choking on your obvious "full of shit"-ness. Guys are like politicians, girls know they're fucking lying, the one who lies best without being a total dick about it, wins.
Take her home
On the ride home (preferably in a cab because you're both pretty wrecked), don't talk too much. The less you say the less stupid things you say. Look at her, think about whether Crosby really is a new Dynasty, and you'll feel a little smirk coming to your mouth, cuz it's not possible...or is it? She'll undoubtedly ask what's going through your head, answer "the same as you babe and I'm having trouble controlling myself". be physical, make constant contact with her. Contact does not mean trying to rip into her on the cab ride home. It means touch the back of her hand, maybe her knee. Lick your lips a lot. tell her you're excited but nervous. Act like you don't do this all the time. Odds are you don't, but she does...
When you get back to your place...you should have everything you need ready. Every stop you make on the way home decreases the chance of you getting play. She's going to fuck you, but having to get condoms reminds her that she could get pregnant, or get a disease from you, that might change her mind. If she gets to your place and you're popped locked and ready to rock, she has less chance to think of the negative consequences, and is more impressed that you're responsible, thus allowing you to let the good times role (damned right I said thus)
Totally do it
if I have to explain this step to you, we're in trouble. Although many ladies will say that most guys can't work this step out. Sorry ladies, it's not that type of column (but guys watch porn, a lot)
Get her ass out the door
If the night turns to day, it's not a one night stand. She needs to be gone before the sun comes up. So plan ahead. If you get home at 3, you've got to be done by 5. Tell her that you'd love to keep her over, but you have a family member coming over to exterminate (the combination of family walking in on her being a ho, and infestation that hasn't been taken care of should do the trick). Get creative boys. This is the part where you use the brain God gave you, remember, if she stays over, you lost.
Lather Rinse Repeat
The getting her home was the lather, sending her off was the rinse, but it is possible to repeat the feat. This will not be accomplished by you giving her your number or her giving you hers. Don't even ask for it. You guys will bump into each other again. With the amount of time you spend in bars, the odds of you not seeing each other at one of 4 pubs you hit regularly are slim to nil. Using the same tactics again should work. I have no tricks for remembering names though, you're on your own with that.
Well there you have it boys, how to pick out, pick up, and pick off a one night stand. Oh and girls, if you want to succeed, go up to a boy and say "I have boobs, do you want to touch them?" It'll work every time, unless you go to a gay bar, in which case it'll still work, but the guy will mention how he wishes his were that firm, and he'll tell you he loves your shoes. So you're still doing great. So when you see me at the bar with my Boyz, you'll hear me yell
Cheers, first round's on...anyone but me!
but you know I'm not going home alone.
To those of us who moved out of their broken homes, or moved on for higher education (a shit load higher right Bramo), or were raised by wolves like me, sometimes you meet the girl of your dreams, and like a dream, she's gone by morning. It's like Cinderella except she comes to your place at bar closing time, and is gone by 6, and she doesn't turn into a pumpkin (well there was that one time, but I was on shrooms, and it was actually a pumpkin the whole time, but we don't talk about that anymore).
So for today's installment, I'm going to explain how to set up a great one-night stand. It's not that hard, and can be lots of fun, as long as you're both consenting, trust each other and have mutual respect for each other. Because that's what hook-ups are about...respect. hmm
Location Location Location
With the exception one crazy time on the 12th floor of Concordia one night before a midterm, odds are you're not picking up too many prospects in the library, if you do you have no need for any advice from anyone because your game is already very solid. Also if you have managed to bang someone from school, in school, you have the right to brag about it at every opportunity. Seriously I tried to write it in my grandmother's 80th birthday card but I couldn't figure out how to rhyme, "She totally beejed me in a hallway" with anything nearly related to her birthday, so I just wrote it on the envelope. I'm not allowed at family functions anymore, and fuck them, empty house for me!!!
Basically if you're trying to prey on the defenseless, go where they let their gaurds down. So for the most part, leave clubs alone. That's where rapists go, and with good reason. Girls go with supergroups involving a few prowling males to keep us prowling males away. They don't drink much, they're there to dance. You'd have to dope them up to lure them away from that sort of defense, and if that sounds like a good idea to you, awesome! Just leave a comment saying that you think that's the best way to score. Also leave your full name and address there so I can tell the poli...hot chicks that want to do it with you. The best place to pick up a one night stand is at a bar. odds are if she's at a bar, she wants to get drunk. Once she gets drunk, she wants to make some bad decisions. That could be you Chief...just play it cool.
He who comes last...comes
We've all seen the guy who talks up a girl at 11:27 on a ladies night. he knows her free drinks are stopping in 3 minutes, and he's there to pick up the slack. She's pretty wrecked by this point, and'll probably make out with him. What does this shmuck do...he follows her around all night, basically bugging the hell out of her. Every girl I know has mentioned on of these guys to me...don't be this guy. Go out with your Boyz, and enjoy your Boyz. Buy yourselves some drinks, laugh about previous stupidities, as well as at the one guy at your table who will chase a girl at 11:27... If you think you don't have a guy like that in your group, You're that guy.
As an added benefit, the line, "I've been watching you all night" sort of works if the girl can do some math in her head and figure that "yeah I have been here more than 7 minutes, maybe this guy isn't full of shit" Also you have been chilling all night not throwing your game at anyone who can catch it. So if you tell her, "I wasn't planning on going home with anyone, but you seem different" she'll at least pretend to buy it, without choking on your obvious "full of shit"-ness. Guys are like politicians, girls know they're fucking lying, the one who lies best without being a total dick about it, wins.
Take her home
On the ride home (preferably in a cab because you're both pretty wrecked), don't talk too much. The less you say the less stupid things you say. Look at her, think about whether Crosby really is a new Dynasty, and you'll feel a little smirk coming to your mouth, cuz it's not possible...or is it? She'll undoubtedly ask what's going through your head, answer "the same as you babe and I'm having trouble controlling myself". be physical, make constant contact with her. Contact does not mean trying to rip into her on the cab ride home. It means touch the back of her hand, maybe her knee. Lick your lips a lot. tell her you're excited but nervous. Act like you don't do this all the time. Odds are you don't, but she does...
When you get back to your place...you should have everything you need ready. Every stop you make on the way home decreases the chance of you getting play. She's going to fuck you, but having to get condoms reminds her that she could get pregnant, or get a disease from you, that might change her mind. If she gets to your place and you're popped locked and ready to rock, she has less chance to think of the negative consequences, and is more impressed that you're responsible, thus allowing you to let the good times role (damned right I said thus)
Totally do it
if I have to explain this step to you, we're in trouble. Although many ladies will say that most guys can't work this step out. Sorry ladies, it's not that type of column (but guys watch porn, a lot)
Get her ass out the door
If the night turns to day, it's not a one night stand. She needs to be gone before the sun comes up. So plan ahead. If you get home at 3, you've got to be done by 5. Tell her that you'd love to keep her over, but you have a family member coming over to exterminate (the combination of family walking in on her being a ho, and infestation that hasn't been taken care of should do the trick). Get creative boys. This is the part where you use the brain God gave you, remember, if she stays over, you lost.
Lather Rinse Repeat
The getting her home was the lather, sending her off was the rinse, but it is possible to repeat the feat. This will not be accomplished by you giving her your number or her giving you hers. Don't even ask for it. You guys will bump into each other again. With the amount of time you spend in bars, the odds of you not seeing each other at one of 4 pubs you hit regularly are slim to nil. Using the same tactics again should work. I have no tricks for remembering names though, you're on your own with that.
Well there you have it boys, how to pick out, pick up, and pick off a one night stand. Oh and girls, if you want to succeed, go up to a boy and say "I have boobs, do you want to touch them?" It'll work every time, unless you go to a gay bar, in which case it'll still work, but the guy will mention how he wishes his were that firm, and he'll tell you he loves your shoes. So you're still doing great. So when you see me at the bar with my Boyz, you'll hear me yell
Cheers, first round's on...anyone but me!
but you know I'm not going home alone.
Sunday, March 4, 2007
Treat them like dirt, and they'll stick to you like mud
If you treat them like dirt, they will stick to you like mud...otherwise known as why nice guys finish last. I was talking to my friend Pat, and as always lately, the subject of my column came up. Be it someone wondering what this is all about, or screaming at me that I haven't posted yet. Either way I seem to have captured some hearts and minds, and trust me, I am happy about that.
I was talking to Pat, and he mentioned to me something that had been on his mind for a while. He told me, "Toine, why don't you talk about how nice guys finish last" Now this was something that perplexed me to no end. I have spent the better part of the last few days thinking about this very phenomenon. You see, I think of myself as a pretty nice guy, but I am in no way shape or form finishing last. I might not be first, but I can't think of a single area of life where I am not satisfied with how things are going.
In order to write well, one must perform a bit of research, and so I embarked on a quest of sorts to work this nice guy conundrum out. The first question actually provided many answers. When I asked around to a few nice guys, the only area they seemed to be lacking in was their careers and with the ladies. At this stage of the game, it is too early for us to consider ourselves failures in business (but based on my natural predilection towards slacking off, I'd say I'm halfway there), so these "Nice Guys" must only be focused on the lack of females they're getting. That doesn't seem too nice to me at all.
When I spoke to one of my female friends (the best source for information on why some guys strike out), I found a precious little nugget of knowledge. Nice guys don't finish last. Her words exactly were "arrogant assholes, or whiny pussies finish last". How can you not fall in love with a girl who could make a sailor blush?
So boys, if you think you're nice, you're not, because girls like nice guys. Here are the reasons you're finishing last.
You're arrogant
When you were a little boy, you were a bit quicker than everyone else at the sandbox, and parents seemed to think this was a notable achievement. You did however get your teeth kicked in by the big dumber kids, who probably would have been friends with you if you weren't too busy telling them how much better you were than them. Apparently getting your ass handed to you at 7 hasn't sunk in yet, so you still spend most of your time telling people (and now possible lust interests) how much better you are than everyone, simply because you used to be smart. If you were still smart...you would have gotten a clue by now. But you didn't and so the only ass that will ever be handed to you, will be your own.
You're a pussy
You're a gentleman, that's what your mother says. You give women their space, and allow them to see you for the good person you are. They'll come to you eventually right? How's that been working for you? Not so great. That's because you're not as good as you think. You just started a job where you don't wear a name tag, or you are still wearing that name tag (minimum wage does not have the same drawing power it did during the great depression). You still live with your parents, and as much space as your mom and pops give you, and how your basement is "basically like an apartment just without a kitchen, or a bathroom", and how people could sleep over as much as they want "as long as it's during the weekend" odds are, girls just need a bit of prodding to see that gem that you think you are. That's why God invented sweet talking. And the fact that women fall for it, is proof that God is a man.
Fortune favors the bold. In order to gain anything in life, you need to get out and go for it. These sound like corny after school special maxims, but in the end it's true. You might be a nice guy, but if you don't show girls a reason to want you, they won't. And if all you show them is sweet, nice and non-threatening, all they'll want is to be your friend. Friends are nice...lovers are mean, in a nice way. It might sound crazy but if I was wrong, then the concepts of rough sex, and songs like "Hurt so good" wouldn't exist
I was talking to Pat, and he mentioned to me something that had been on his mind for a while. He told me, "Toine, why don't you talk about how nice guys finish last" Now this was something that perplexed me to no end. I have spent the better part of the last few days thinking about this very phenomenon. You see, I think of myself as a pretty nice guy, but I am in no way shape or form finishing last. I might not be first, but I can't think of a single area of life where I am not satisfied with how things are going.
In order to write well, one must perform a bit of research, and so I embarked on a quest of sorts to work this nice guy conundrum out. The first question actually provided many answers. When I asked around to a few nice guys, the only area they seemed to be lacking in was their careers and with the ladies. At this stage of the game, it is too early for us to consider ourselves failures in business (but based on my natural predilection towards slacking off, I'd say I'm halfway there), so these "Nice Guys" must only be focused on the lack of females they're getting. That doesn't seem too nice to me at all.
When I spoke to one of my female friends (the best source for information on why some guys strike out), I found a precious little nugget of knowledge. Nice guys don't finish last. Her words exactly were "arrogant assholes, or whiny pussies finish last". How can you not fall in love with a girl who could make a sailor blush?
So boys, if you think you're nice, you're not, because girls like nice guys. Here are the reasons you're finishing last.
You're arrogant
When you were a little boy, you were a bit quicker than everyone else at the sandbox, and parents seemed to think this was a notable achievement. You did however get your teeth kicked in by the big dumber kids, who probably would have been friends with you if you weren't too busy telling them how much better you were than them. Apparently getting your ass handed to you at 7 hasn't sunk in yet, so you still spend most of your time telling people (and now possible lust interests) how much better you are than everyone, simply because you used to be smart. If you were still smart...you would have gotten a clue by now. But you didn't and so the only ass that will ever be handed to you, will be your own.
You're a pussy
You're a gentleman, that's what your mother says. You give women their space, and allow them to see you for the good person you are. They'll come to you eventually right? How's that been working for you? Not so great. That's because you're not as good as you think. You just started a job where you don't wear a name tag, or you are still wearing that name tag (minimum wage does not have the same drawing power it did during the great depression). You still live with your parents, and as much space as your mom and pops give you, and how your basement is "basically like an apartment just without a kitchen, or a bathroom", and how people could sleep over as much as they want "as long as it's during the weekend" odds are, girls just need a bit of prodding to see that gem that you think you are. That's why God invented sweet talking. And the fact that women fall for it, is proof that God is a man.
Fortune favors the bold. In order to gain anything in life, you need to get out and go for it. These sound like corny after school special maxims, but in the end it's true. You might be a nice guy, but if you don't show girls a reason to want you, they won't. And if all you show them is sweet, nice and non-threatening, all they'll want is to be your friend. Friends are nice...lovers are mean, in a nice way. It might sound crazy but if I was wrong, then the concepts of rough sex, and songs like "Hurt so good" wouldn't exist
Thursday, March 1, 2007
All Good Things...
All good things come to an end. Be they relationships, or the Cell Call Chronicles. At the request of the luxuriously lavish Livvy, I discussed the etiqutte for phone calling during the beginning of a relationship. As a logical progression I moved onto the rules of engagement for couples in a steady relationship, and now as a prime example of my Psychotic need for closure, I will end on how to arrange phonecalls for people you have broken up with.
I suppose the first rule would be, if you broke up with them, don't fucking call them. It's bad enough that you made a decision for them on their relationship status, but now you're pouring salt in the wounds by checking up on them. You broke up with them because you didn't want to be with them anymore, so leave them the fuck alone.
This is a crime more often than not perpetrated by women. You seem to have this notion that you're able to remain friends after a relationship is over. You can't. And for all those girls out there who are saying, "I'm friends with some of my ex's", You're not. You probably don't see each other very often, and when you do it's probably really awkward. As a rule of thumb, if the guy you were last with has no problem that you're getting fucked by some other guy, then he's either gay, or...not straight.
If the person you're with broke up with you, don't call them...ever. Nothing says desperate better than calling someone that said they don't want to be with you anymore. Ladies you have better things to do than call the guy who needs his space. You can take that dance class you always wanted to do. Or you can take up Hot Yoga, it's just like regualr yoga, except I think only good looking people are allowed doing it (note: I know what Hot Yoag is, but that was the only way I could think to make a joke about it. Seriously it's fucking intense). Boyz, you have better things to do than call that Skeez that broke your heart (ok you're not crying it's dust in your eye. What's the "Not Gay" explanation for the song Gone by N'Sync playing in the background...Mo). You might not take dance classes, and you got too fat for yoga (spandex is NOT your friend), but you really should be investing your time trying to nail her friends. Now that might sound really petty and mean, and it fucking is, but your ex's friends are hot bro, and girls always back door their friends by doing shit like that (they're not down like the Boyz), so you might as well get back on that horse kid, or back on that whore, depending on how you look at it.
Now in the cases of these mutual break-ups (which to me are about as real as the tooth fairy, unicorns, and Dirk Diggler's wang...look it up people, Boogie Nights), why would you want to be calling the person anyways? You both came to the same realization that you don't want to hang out anymore, why would you celebrate that by talking to each other. What if he gets someone new? What if she does? Unless you have the lottery luck that you both get over it at the exact same time, odds are one of you is going to be crushed by the realization that he/she wasn't as into you as you were into them. It sucks, but it's true. Out of sight out of mind. If you are going to try and talk to them still, I suggest deleting them from your phone book in your cellphone anyways. Why you might ask, isn't that a little counter productive? Well no it's not, and stop asking such stupid fucking questions. Jokes, your questions are awesome...but seriously I explain everything eventually, so there's no need to ask anything until after the column is done.
Anyways, the point of deleting them is two fold. One, if after your deep relationship you don't know their phone number, odds are you shouldn't be talking to them anyways, so it takes them right out of the game. If you know their number dial and go, while you're dialing you have an extra few seconds to decide if hearing their voice is a good idea or not. Secondly, if you're shit faced you can't dial their whole number, even if you can dial speed dial 6 after like nine tries. Drunk dials are the worst, because you always call to accomplish a feat you are completely incapable of (an intelligent conversation, a rationalization as to why you should be together, or just plain sex. You can't do any of these things, and if you had good friends you'd never even have a phone in your hand anyways, you'd be too busy double fisting brews).
You're single, enjoy it!!! You can go wherever you want, with whomever you want (that's right ShermDog we can chill again). You can also randomly hit on every girl you see with the hopes of scoring. if this doesn't sound like a big difference from when you were attached...there's a reason you're single. Off to the Bar!
Cheers, first round's on...anyone but me!
I suppose the first rule would be, if you broke up with them, don't fucking call them. It's bad enough that you made a decision for them on their relationship status, but now you're pouring salt in the wounds by checking up on them. You broke up with them because you didn't want to be with them anymore, so leave them the fuck alone.
This is a crime more often than not perpetrated by women. You seem to have this notion that you're able to remain friends after a relationship is over. You can't. And for all those girls out there who are saying, "I'm friends with some of my ex's", You're not. You probably don't see each other very often, and when you do it's probably really awkward. As a rule of thumb, if the guy you were last with has no problem that you're getting fucked by some other guy, then he's either gay, or...not straight.
If the person you're with broke up with you, don't call them...ever. Nothing says desperate better than calling someone that said they don't want to be with you anymore. Ladies you have better things to do than call the guy who needs his space. You can take that dance class you always wanted to do. Or you can take up Hot Yoga, it's just like regualr yoga, except I think only good looking people are allowed doing it (note: I know what Hot Yoag is, but that was the only way I could think to make a joke about it. Seriously it's fucking intense). Boyz, you have better things to do than call that Skeez that broke your heart (ok you're not crying it's dust in your eye. What's the "Not Gay" explanation for the song Gone by N'Sync playing in the background...Mo). You might not take dance classes, and you got too fat for yoga (spandex is NOT your friend), but you really should be investing your time trying to nail her friends. Now that might sound really petty and mean, and it fucking is, but your ex's friends are hot bro, and girls always back door their friends by doing shit like that (they're not down like the Boyz), so you might as well get back on that horse kid, or back on that whore, depending on how you look at it.
Now in the cases of these mutual break-ups (which to me are about as real as the tooth fairy, unicorns, and Dirk Diggler's wang...look it up people, Boogie Nights), why would you want to be calling the person anyways? You both came to the same realization that you don't want to hang out anymore, why would you celebrate that by talking to each other. What if he gets someone new? What if she does? Unless you have the lottery luck that you both get over it at the exact same time, odds are one of you is going to be crushed by the realization that he/she wasn't as into you as you were into them. It sucks, but it's true. Out of sight out of mind. If you are going to try and talk to them still, I suggest deleting them from your phone book in your cellphone anyways. Why you might ask, isn't that a little counter productive? Well no it's not, and stop asking such stupid fucking questions. Jokes, your questions are awesome...but seriously I explain everything eventually, so there's no need to ask anything until after the column is done.
Anyways, the point of deleting them is two fold. One, if after your deep relationship you don't know their phone number, odds are you shouldn't be talking to them anyways, so it takes them right out of the game. If you know their number dial and go, while you're dialing you have an extra few seconds to decide if hearing their voice is a good idea or not. Secondly, if you're shit faced you can't dial their whole number, even if you can dial speed dial 6 after like nine tries. Drunk dials are the worst, because you always call to accomplish a feat you are completely incapable of (an intelligent conversation, a rationalization as to why you should be together, or just plain sex. You can't do any of these things, and if you had good friends you'd never even have a phone in your hand anyways, you'd be too busy double fisting brews).
You're single, enjoy it!!! You can go wherever you want, with whomever you want (that's right ShermDog we can chill again). You can also randomly hit on every girl you see with the hopes of scoring. if this doesn't sound like a big difference from when you were attached...there's a reason you're single. Off to the Bar!
Cheers, first round's on...anyone but me!
Middling Out
Hello People,
So the comments have started getting interesting, I don't publish all of them because frankly, I can't stand spelling mistakes. Now it's true that I make some from time to time while writing this, but have you seen the length of these posts? Also I review my own work and usually do this under the influence of something, so it's amazing that I'm actually posting them, and not just banging on my desk singing "I am typing" like Ralph Wiggum (if you don't get that reference I seriously can't help you).
I'm sorry about the lateness of this post, but i was too busy getting some lovin yesterday to write anything. But my evening did allow me to have a topic to discuss. That's right, today we're talking about how awesome girls who allow you to do them in the butt are. Just kidding (but seriously this Girly rocks all kinds).
On a more serious note (well as serious as this column is anyways), we'll be continuing on the Cell Call Chronicles. Yesterday's post had to do with the frequency of calls for a new relationship are. Apparently it wasn't super clear of what we believe your expectations are. To clarify, you want us to call you the next day. Odds are we're chilling with our Boyz the next day, so we're not going to do that. If it's been longer than three days and we call you back, you're probably just a booty call. Do with that what you will. And before you start clamoring, "He was being so nice, he's a jerk who was just trying to get into my pants," think that it might not be his fault. You see, while some guys are slick talkers, and they are just trying to bone you, others are just really well mannered. Blame our mothers for telling us to be polite and always say nice things, even if you don't like the person, because that's called being a gentleman.
Now let's take it for granted that you had your date, and despite both of your obvious personal flaws, there was still enough good intentions/drugs floating around to warrant him calling you back within a reasonable amount of time. This probably resulted in another date. Now if you did not see how much of a loser he was by now, and he hasn't figured out that under your shy neurotic exterior, there is a raging neurotic interior, then odds are you might just end up settling down as boyfriend and girlfriend. Congratulations!!! You are now middling out! The problems are over, communication should no longer be an issue and you're bound to get married and live happily ever after, like everyone does with their first serious boyfriend/girlfriend. I wish I could find a way to simulate the awkward silence that would ensue after making a comment like that, but I can't. We all know what I think of settling down (if not read the post on commitment), and apparently most people are in the same boat because I don't meet that many 20 something girls who have only been with one guy. As a matter of fact at this point, I have to say the girl is a "good girl" if she can count the ones she could remember on two hands (Because spring break totally doesn't count right Samantha?).
In any event, the phone calls should by all logic increase at this point, but please ladies don't push it. Guys are not big talkers, we do well face to face, with polite conversation, and some not so polite conversation, but please don't expect us to call every single day. And furthermore, if you're with a guy that can't even talk to you when you're right in front of him, then fucking leave him. There are enough guys that you can pick up that there's no reason for you to stick to cavemen. They're called breasts ladies, and they work like Gang busters when it comes to flirting with guys.
Case in point, I was on the bus yesterday with Girly. Now she lives in Montreal, but actually comes from the same small town as me, and as such has all her doctors and dentists back home. She had a dentsist appointment yesterday, and I was meeting her up afterwards. Now I had wrapped up some work early and I knew that if I stayed in the office I was going to be Jacked with more work to do. Obviously that wasn't going to happen, so I gave her a call and said, "it's cool hun I'll go to the dentist with you and wait in the waiting room while you're done, that way you don't have to take the bus into town by yourself at night." Now I am a nice guy, and I really don't like girls taking public transport alone at night, but it helped that I had also gotten a new book so sitting around reading wasn't a problem for me (win-win is the way to go).
After the dentist, we were on the bus and Girly was going into complete details about the checkup (I can't say I followed the whole thing, but I did catch the part where the dentist said Girly had a virginal mouth. I caught that part because I almost choked laughing. When Girly clicked as to why I was laughng she had a good little chuckle too. boy if that dentist only knew...). After the check-up story was done, a friend of mine had gotten on the bus and we started shooting the breeze. Now my Boyz are cool, so he didn't make mention to the fact that he had seen me a few weeks ago with a different girl, but Girly knows who I am, so she usually lets that shit slide...for now. He asked how long we had been together, and she looked at me with the sweetest expression I have ever seen and said, "How the fuck should I know, it's been like a month, but most of the time we're not focusing". I'm not going to lie, girls who make it look like I'm a stud in front of my friends make me like them a lot more.
My buddy went into his little sotry about how his girl dropped him on Valentines Day (fucking awkward, please people don't tell me stories like this, what can I say to that?), and went on to explain how I should keep my eye on her, keep tabs on her, and basically hound her to no end. To which Girly responded without missing a beat, "Toine doesn't do that, he calls when he has something to say, or has something he wants to do. Basically everytime I see his name on my phone, I know something good is about to happen. It's not about quantity dude, it's about quality" And I knew right then and there the reason why I get wasted with her more than anyone else. Take notes ladies, you don't need to see/speak every day, but every time you do it should be a great experience, and when we hit the bar or club you'll hear me yell
Cheers, first round's on...anyone but me!
So the comments have started getting interesting, I don't publish all of them because frankly, I can't stand spelling mistakes. Now it's true that I make some from time to time while writing this, but have you seen the length of these posts? Also I review my own work and usually do this under the influence of something, so it's amazing that I'm actually posting them, and not just banging on my desk singing "I am typing" like Ralph Wiggum (if you don't get that reference I seriously can't help you).
I'm sorry about the lateness of this post, but i was too busy getting some lovin yesterday to write anything. But my evening did allow me to have a topic to discuss. That's right, today we're talking about how awesome girls who allow you to do them in the butt are. Just kidding (but seriously this Girly rocks all kinds).
On a more serious note (well as serious as this column is anyways), we'll be continuing on the Cell Call Chronicles. Yesterday's post had to do with the frequency of calls for a new relationship are. Apparently it wasn't super clear of what we believe your expectations are. To clarify, you want us to call you the next day. Odds are we're chilling with our Boyz the next day, so we're not going to do that. If it's been longer than three days and we call you back, you're probably just a booty call. Do with that what you will. And before you start clamoring, "He was being so nice, he's a jerk who was just trying to get into my pants," think that it might not be his fault. You see, while some guys are slick talkers, and they are just trying to bone you, others are just really well mannered. Blame our mothers for telling us to be polite and always say nice things, even if you don't like the person, because that's called being a gentleman.
Now let's take it for granted that you had your date, and despite both of your obvious personal flaws, there was still enough good intentions/drugs floating around to warrant him calling you back within a reasonable amount of time. This probably resulted in another date. Now if you did not see how much of a loser he was by now, and he hasn't figured out that under your shy neurotic exterior, there is a raging neurotic interior, then odds are you might just end up settling down as boyfriend and girlfriend. Congratulations!!! You are now middling out! The problems are over, communication should no longer be an issue and you're bound to get married and live happily ever after, like everyone does with their first serious boyfriend/girlfriend. I wish I could find a way to simulate the awkward silence that would ensue after making a comment like that, but I can't. We all know what I think of settling down (if not read the post on commitment), and apparently most people are in the same boat because I don't meet that many 20 something girls who have only been with one guy. As a matter of fact at this point, I have to say the girl is a "good girl" if she can count the ones she could remember on two hands (Because spring break totally doesn't count right Samantha?).
In any event, the phone calls should by all logic increase at this point, but please ladies don't push it. Guys are not big talkers, we do well face to face, with polite conversation, and some not so polite conversation, but please don't expect us to call every single day. And furthermore, if you're with a guy that can't even talk to you when you're right in front of him, then fucking leave him. There are enough guys that you can pick up that there's no reason for you to stick to cavemen. They're called breasts ladies, and they work like Gang busters when it comes to flirting with guys.
Case in point, I was on the bus yesterday with Girly. Now she lives in Montreal, but actually comes from the same small town as me, and as such has all her doctors and dentists back home. She had a dentsist appointment yesterday, and I was meeting her up afterwards. Now I had wrapped up some work early and I knew that if I stayed in the office I was going to be Jacked with more work to do. Obviously that wasn't going to happen, so I gave her a call and said, "it's cool hun I'll go to the dentist with you and wait in the waiting room while you're done, that way you don't have to take the bus into town by yourself at night." Now I am a nice guy, and I really don't like girls taking public transport alone at night, but it helped that I had also gotten a new book so sitting around reading wasn't a problem for me (win-win is the way to go).
After the dentist, we were on the bus and Girly was going into complete details about the checkup (I can't say I followed the whole thing, but I did catch the part where the dentist said Girly had a virginal mouth. I caught that part because I almost choked laughing. When Girly clicked as to why I was laughng she had a good little chuckle too. boy if that dentist only knew...). After the check-up story was done, a friend of mine had gotten on the bus and we started shooting the breeze. Now my Boyz are cool, so he didn't make mention to the fact that he had seen me a few weeks ago with a different girl, but Girly knows who I am, so she usually lets that shit slide...for now. He asked how long we had been together, and she looked at me with the sweetest expression I have ever seen and said, "How the fuck should I know, it's been like a month, but most of the time we're not focusing". I'm not going to lie, girls who make it look like I'm a stud in front of my friends make me like them a lot more.
My buddy went into his little sotry about how his girl dropped him on Valentines Day (fucking awkward, please people don't tell me stories like this, what can I say to that?), and went on to explain how I should keep my eye on her, keep tabs on her, and basically hound her to no end. To which Girly responded without missing a beat, "Toine doesn't do that, he calls when he has something to say, or has something he wants to do. Basically everytime I see his name on my phone, I know something good is about to happen. It's not about quantity dude, it's about quality" And I knew right then and there the reason why I get wasted with her more than anyone else. Take notes ladies, you don't need to see/speak every day, but every time you do it should be a great experience, and when we hit the bar or club you'll hear me yell
Cheers, first round's on...anyone but me!
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