As Americans, we naturally enjoy competition, but there are often limitations that prevent some people from participating in certain sports. Basketball isn't for midgets. Football requires some muscle, that of which is missing from us scrawny white boys. Fat people can't.... well, they are kind of excluded from just about every athletic sport. Oops. We often forget about a sport that literally everyone can participate in. Everyone from your local high school douche jock to the weird guy in the accounting department to even you! That's right, get out of your moms basement, it's time to play putt putt!
Putt putt is a game where players putt through 18 tough holes, often with obstacles like small water hazards, windmills, and the occasional asshole clown. You don't need to be able to lift 400 pounds or run a 1.7 40-yard dash. You just crank your putter back and hope for the best.
What makes this game so different is the amount of tediousness required to succeed. While it's no real golf, trying to hit a small ball into a small hole a ways away with a bunch of stupid shit in the way is no walk in the park. While any putt putt veteran can usually master a course in no time, it's the small details that make it interesting for all crowds.
Even if you're playing the game of your life and are on track to star in the next professional putt putt open, one stroke over a long game can be the difference between you becoming a champion and becoming a huge, gigantic failure. That's right - that awful shot you had on 13 where the clown ate your ball and spit it back out will be your demise.
There's no better feeling than winning in putt putt. The toll the game takes on your pathetic little body may be a lot, but in the end, justice prevails. You walked to every hole; no cart. You didn't bring a caddy. You're still chugging beers between holes, like a champion. Driving back to your moms basement with the lowest score on your Magic Mountain score card is just as rewarding as getting a handy from Tina in 5th grade.
With the rush of putt putt, I don't see why America has thrown it in the back seat of their sport repertoire. It's behind soccer, cricket, and even curling in popularity (probably). Back in the day, professional putt putt was actually televised on television. Today we're just stuck with the NBA Finals and the Little League World Series. We've let those little shits run ESPN2 for too long! I encourage everyone to revive America's lost pastime in the beautiful game of putt putt. Who knows? You may be the next champion, and when mom finds out, she'll cook you a congratulatory batch of pizza rolls made for a king.
There are some debates that have raged on for centuries. Is there a God? Democrat or Republican? Do these pants make my ass look big? Today, we indulge in another great debate that has plagued our globe since the days of modernized indoor plumbing: is it better to sit on a cold or warm toilet seat?
Cold Toilet Seat
You walk into your office and drop your trousers. Your hiney touches the porcelain throne and you immediately realize that you may as well be sitting on a giant block of ice. The cold toilet seat is more easily noticeable, as the nerves in your tushie scream "DAMN THATS COLD." Let's analyze the ups and downs of a cold toilet seat.
The Good
-You know someone hasn't been on the toilet recently
-On a hot day, this may actually feel good
-There's something about a cold toilet seat that convinces us that it's a little cleaner
The Bad
-It's really cold
-It stays cold for a while, leaving our perky little cheeks to suffer for a few minutes
Warm Toilet Seat
The warm toilet seat can leave us with mixed emotions. It can either make us feel warm and tingly or more grossed out than a Jerry Sandusky shower. The instant our poop chute makes contact with the poop chair, a variety of thoughts are provoked. Who was here before me? Does this feel good? Should I go vomit? Let's evaluate the perks:
The Good
-It's like someone warmed it up for you, leaving you to feel special
-No need to suffer through ice blocks on your ass for minutes
The Bad
-Someone made the nasty just minutes before your arrival
-There's no knowing what anal symphony was unleashed prior to your time
-A warm toilet seat may be a sign of a lingering stench leftover from the previous culprit
When it comes down as to whether which one is better than the other, my vote goes to the cold toilet seat. The false sense of security and sanitation is comfort even if our donks must suffer through a blizzard for short period of time. To me, there's something about sitting on a toilet seat shortly after someone else as used it. It's like getting sloppy seconds on a hooker. A really smelly, poopy hooker. Covered in poop. Let me know what your stance on this debacle it in the comments or tweet at me.
I've been going to concert for 12 years now. I've seen everyone from Snoop Dogg (twice) to Linkin Park (when they were good) to The Wailers to As I Lay Dying to Skrillex to performances of Beethoven symphonies. Except for country, I've seen just about every genre of music live at one point or another, and how people act at these shows is just astounding. These people don't know what they're doing or how to act. I've never personally never thrown fat kids into the middle of a 14-acre salad buffet, but I imagine that they would act the same as naive concert goers - lost and confused. Today I tell you how to act and to not make yourself look like a dumbass in front of hundreds or thousands of people.
-Don't be THAT guy
There's always THAT guy at the concert. There's always someone who wants to be the center of attention, no matter what. They will be shouting loud stuff just to seek attention. They will pretend to know every fact about everything ever on every subject ever just to sound smart, even though they have the intelligence of the couch I'm sitting on. No one likes these guys. When the show starts, I go out of my way to make sure that this guy has a miserable concert experience, no matter the genre. You're in a group of hundreds of people you don't know and will probably never meet again - trying to be the hero is just plain stupid. You look like a tool, and everybody hates you. Don't be that guy.
-Wear something appropriate
If you're going to a metal show, don't wear the most flamboyant clothes you have. If you're going to a country festival, don't wear your "BLACK POWER!" t-shirt. Use common sense. Dressing in inappropriate attire can literally get your ass beat. I saw an EMS unit come into a rap show after this dumbass with a 2-foot mohawk held together by Elmer's glue took five fingers to the back of his head a few times. It really isn't that hard - don't dress like a dumbass and everything will be fine. Otherwise, everyone, including myself, will hate you. Now, I'm not saying you can't have fun. If you're going to an EDM act, it's usually encouraged to dress up in outrageous, colorful clothing. I'm seeing Lynyrd Skynyrd in a few weeks and you bet your beautiful ass I'm going to be sporting my American flag bandana, sipping Budweiser AmeriCans, and wearing every other USA apparel I have. Just be able to fit in - standing out in a concert atmosphere may not be a good thing.
-Quit with the crowdsurfing
I recently saw Mac Miller and Skrillex together at a show at THE Ohio State University. Before the first set even went on, people were crowdsurfing like the rookies they were. Really? Why? Every crowdsurfer that came over me got a swift punch to their ass. Save the crowdsurfing for specific EDM shows (Steve Aoki?) and rock shows. I once helped crowdsurf over 100 people in a single Five Finger Death Punch show two years ago, but I wasn't pissed because you're supposed to crowdsurf and beat the shit out of each other at a hard rock show. Not at Mac freakin' Miller, though. You're just pissing everyone off and it basically broadcasts to the entire crowd, "HEY LOOK AT ME! I'M AN ATTENTION WHORE! PLEASE PUNCH ME IN THE KIDNEYS" Don't be surprised if someone drops you if you try to crowdsurf at the premiere of the next opera - save it for the rock shows.
-Know when to cheer/applaud
This is more applicable to classical concerts. Know when to applaud - it's the biggest pet peeve of any classical concertgoer. Don't applaud in between movements of entire pieces, or you'll look (and sound) like the biggest buttmunch in the area. Wait to applaud after the entire piece/symphony/quartet is over. Thank me later, noob.
-Know your limits
I'm all for having people "enhance" their concert experience with their substance of choice. Frankly, I don't care what your substance of choice is. Know how much you can handle/how much you're supposed to take though. I've seen shows drunk plenty of times, and it's always a great time. I never have too much to ruin it for me or others though. I worked DayGlow last month and I saw at least five kids have to be sent to the hospital because they passed out while on ecstacy. I can't even count the amount of times I've seen security literally drag out drunks who have thrown up in the pit or passed out in the middle of the venue. I have zero sympathy for them - if you're gonna take your drugs/drink, know the risks and plan ahead. On a related note.....
-Get used to marijuana
I've smelled pot at almost every type of show. Rap/hip-hop, rock, EDM.... you name it. I bet some of the old folks who saw a concert of Chopin's piano pieces were probably baked too. Weed has always been a staple at live concerts since the Woodstock era, and probably was a part of the live show experience before then. If you are going to bitch and complain about "that awful stoner who's just smoking pot like, all the time, because, like, it smells like a skunk died in my butthole," then leave. You don't have to smoke or take a hit when the hippie next to you offers the joint, but don't be a dick about it. Get over yourself. No one's bitching about you drinking your beer or lame cocktail.
-Enjoy yourself, but don't be a douche
This should go without saying. If you're going into the moshpit at the Anthrax show, make sure you're not throwing any 'bows at the girls not in the pit. Don't be screaming in the ears of the innocent victims in front of you for the entirety of the concert. DO have a great time, but keep it within limits and make sure you're not negatively affecting everyone else around you. You're all here to listen to good music and have a good time! There's no reason why you should ruin it for everyone else.
I don't care it you're white, black, orange, purple, tall, skinny, fat, short, or any other attribute - EVERYONE loses their socks at some point. You go out and buy a pack of eight pairs of socks, and within a week you have a total of five foot snuggies. Where do these socks go!? This question rivals other great mysteries, like whether aliens exist, or if Daniel Tosh is gay or not. While we may never know for my certain, I apply my knowledge and expertise to attempt to answer the unknown.
The Dryer Monster
Not to be confused with the Loch Ness Monster or Oprah, the Dryer Monster is a savage and heartless beast. The Dryer Monster is relentless in its consumption of socks. One may wash four socks and take out two. No one knows where they went during that 47-minute spin cycle. The Dryer Monster has claimed many victims and left innocent bystanders wearing tacky, unmatching pairs of socks over their stanky feet. This invincible creation is unknown in its origins, but one thing for certain is that we may never be able to defeat him or even see him in wild sock feast. Avoid this neanderthal like a rabid homeless man.
The Creepy Man Looking Into Your Window
Have you ever looked out your window at night to see a bearded man licking his lips and fingering his belly button while grunting, "get in there nice and deep like" under his breath? That same man may be responsible for the theft of your beloved toe blankets. This man will go through hell and high water to get a whiff of your undies, so what makes you think he won't grab a sock or fourteen? Keep an eye for this rapist weirdo. At first he may just be hiding in closet, but soon he may be taking large steps to get into your sock drawer to sniff your precious toe jam scent.
The Washer-To-Dryer Transfer
This may be the most logical explanation for this unspoken phenomenon. I can't tell you the amount of times I've dropped small articles of clothing when taking them from the washer to the dryer, and for some reason no one knows what happens when a sock is dropped. You might as well have dropped it in the Grand Canyon or Glenn Beck's endless esophagus. Once an article of foot clothing is dropped during the daring transfer, you're never getting it back, so simply accept it, and be wary next time you transfer loads. No sock left behind.
In A Randos Room
It's 2:47am and the bars are closing, just as you are closing the deal with the hot chick whose name you've already forgotten. You take a taxi back to her place, because you've also forgotten your address, you sloppy mess. You arrive at her place and faster than you can say "dryer monster," you're more naked than the day you were born. Fast forward six hours now as you're scrambling to escape her bedroom without her noticing. You get the essentials; pants, underwear, shirt, shoes, sock... wait, where's the other sock!? Who knows, time to get the hell out of here! It is said that 1 in every 23 sock related casualties are from this awful fate. What happened to no sock behind? Get your shit together and keep your clothes accounted for next time you bump an ugly.
Under ________________
I've found socks under beds, desks, clothes, sofas, and even one that was attached to my dogs stomach by static electricity. Crevices underneath anything in your living quarters are sock magnets. How do they end up there? Only Sock God knows. This has dumbfounded college professors and trophy wives for years. The only way to discover them is by doing a routine sock check by inspecting underneath any possible hiding spot for your foot friends. Who cares if it's dusty, smells like a burning tire covered with pubic hair, and was laying next to your dead hamster Pookie? It's nothing a quick wash cycle can't fix... unless you lose it during the washer-to-dryer transfer.
I walk into a Chipotle in Columbus, Ohio, yearning for something new. As an avid burrito fan, I decided to throw caution into the wind and try a burrito bowl. All the cool kids are doing it, so why not jump the bandwagon?
2:35pm
It's finally my turn to order. The hippie with dreadlocks kindly asks, "What will you be havin', bro?" I respond, "Bro, I'll have a chicken burrito bowl with the tortilla in it, bro!" The bro toasts my heavenly tortilla as my mouth salivates like a 13-year-old boy watching porn for the first time. The tortilla is finished and the soft flat bread is placed in the paper mache bowl. The hippie tortilla prince asks if I will need a lid. I respectfully decline.
2:36pm
After accepting chicken and extra white rice into my bowl, I now add cheese, lettuce, and smidgen of hot chili salsa. Not a lot, just a smidgen. The cashier goddess asks for $6.36. I tell her to hold her goddamn horses because I want a fountain drink. I stare through the soul of the cashier as she rings me up correctly, cup in hand. I've won this battle.
2:37pm
After filling up my cup with lemonade, the sweet, sweet nectar of the lemon gods, I sit down at a table for two. I inspect my surroundings. I see a large man picking his nose.
2:38pm
I ready everything for my first bite. My palms are sweaty. My legs won't stop shaking. I man up and thrust my fork into the garden of food that is my burrito bowl. I take the sampling and insert it into my mouth and begin chewing. Delicious.
2:39pm
I decide that it is worth another bite. I do so, and before you know it I'm eating this bowl.
2:41pm
Halfway done. I don't feel full. The large man is still picking his nose. I'm very thirsty and refill my cup with the lemon gods nectar.
2:42pm
I sit back down and continue eating my burrito bowl.
2:44pm
I'm about 3/4ths done and I still don't feel that full. I pull a maneuver I've seen performed only by burrito bowl experts. I take my fluffy tortilla, encase its contents, and begin eating it that way. The large man has ceased picking his nose.
2:46pm
I devour this ball of yum like a lion mauling a zebra on Animal Planet. The bowl has finally been conquered, sans a few grains of rice that didn't make the voyage into my body.
2:47pm
I leave Chipotle, raise both hands, and scream like a hyena. I did it. I've beaten the burrito bowl.
4:14pm
The burrito bowl exits my body. I tweet while on the toilet.
THE REVIEW:
While the burrito bowl was delicious, it still does not compete with the behemoth burrito. I always struggle to finish the burrito, while the burrito bowl left me slightly empty. I felt like a gas tank filled up only 87% of the way. A burrito tops me off. I may attempt another burrito bowl in the future, but I will stick with my signature burrito for the time being.
Too many 21 and 22-year olds complain about the harsh reality of having to graduate college and step into the real world. What's so bad about that? Sure, you can't wake up at 7am on Tuesday to polish off a case before going to your business ethics class where the professor rambles on about his failed marriages. There's too many positives about graduating to cancel the fun parts of college out. Let me explain with the top 10 reasons:
-You don't have to be poor. If you're lucky you'll have a decent paying job, so you should no longer be living 10000000% below the poverty line. Being poor is amusing for a bit, but funding your inevitable alcoholism gets pricey. College is an excuse to be poor, but the life afterwards allows you to not have to dig through your cough cushions for enough change to grab a 40oz. Enjoy saving your money and doing cool important things with it, like investing in the stock market or buying personal strippers.
-You get to leave behind the stupid people. I don't know about you, but I've had a lot of classes with a lot of the same people. Some of those people suck, and I can't wait to leave them behind in the dust. They're annoying, they smell, and they make you want to hump a razor. Never having to see people you can't stand is a great feeling that you undergrad dorks can't enjoy, so think of me next time you're stuck sitting next to the kid who farts a lot and eats his boogers. (fun fact: I've had to sit next to that kid one. Nothing better than calling out a kid eating his boogers in the middle of a class)
-No more shitty college food. Campus food sucks ass, it's a well-known fact. Being poor after moving off campus sucks too, because all you can afford is grilled cheese, mac and cheese, and every other combination of something and cheese. I'm sick of having diarrhea after eating crappy pizza or the chef's special personally. I'd rather enjoy my pinot grigio and salmon than your shitty fish sticks.
-No more homework. From now on, we get paid for doing work! No more 16-page papers on why velvet feels better than nylon or other stupid assignments. Bling bling, bitches! Work may be considered homework, but it's not homework if you get paid. See point #1, loser. When you see my ass back at Homecoming, you bet I'll be arriving by limo and walking out in an all suede suit pumping Rick Ross.
-Walk of shame. Everyone's done it. There's nothing better/worse than walking across campus in last night's clothes and sex hair waving to all your friends who already know what you were up to (and who you were in) last night. While it's great kicking someone out of your bed after a little morning action, it's not so fun when you're walking across campus in high heels at 9am. From now on, your hookups can be as anonymous as you want! When you bump your uglies, literally no one has to know! What a great feeling.... if you know what I mean.
-No more loud dorm sex. Ever try to go to sleep and you hear your nerdy roommate next door is going to poundtown with some broad? It sucks. Literally. There's no more of that. The only screeching moans you'll ever have to hear are when you personally decide to take a trip to poundtown. What a relieving feeling. No one has to make fun of the funny noises you made last night! You can keep your squeaks and shouts to yourself, so let loose.
-Gifts. Graduating college is a big deal, so it's time to reap the rewards! Grandma and grandpa are of course sending some cash your way as well as some gifts from your parents. It may be kinda selfish but screw it, you're an alumni and you bet your beautiful little ass you should be rewarded for four years of (hopefully) hitting the books!
-Graduation parties. The time between the last final exam ever and the commencement ceremonies are a time of debauchery. It's a well known fact that graduation parties rival the first week back and Homecoming as all-day fun fests full of good times and bad decisions. You may not remember partying with your friends for one last time but they'll always remember your graduation weekend where you streaked around the house and threw up on cop!
-No more dumb classes. Let's be real with ourselves - you were playing Angry Birds or creeping on ex-hookups on Facebook more than you were paying attention in class. No more going to classes after graduation! You can now do all of those in the privacy of your bachelor pad. Classes were the epitome of hell for four years, but now they can kiss your ass. Never getting to see the professor who talked about his cats all the time ever again is also a plus.
-You get a cool piece of paper. Eh, nevermind, I guess it's not that cool. Scratch this one and read about walks of shame again.
This simple math equation has been sweeping the interbuttz as a boss level troll. I'm so sick of seeing this damn thing everywhere. It's on message boards and forums, and even made it's way to Facebook and Twitter.
Now, it's making its' first and only visit to this blog.
Let's review, since too many of you we're sitting there with awkward boners in class when they were reviewing PEMDAS.
P = parentheses
E = exponent
M = multiplication
D = division
A = addition
S = subtraction
That's the order of operations. Now, if you remember correctly (which you don't), when you would see this equation, you would start by doing anything in parentheses first, followed by doing anything with an exponent. Here's the part that messes with people because they were too busy staring at the teacher's ass instead of PAYING ATTENTION.
The stupidity... it hurts.
You can "group" multiplication and division together, as you can group addition and subtraction together. When multiple operations of these groups exist (i.e. you'll have to multiply/divide more than once), you go from left to right, NOT MULTIPLYING EVERYFUCKINGTHING FIRST, THEN DIVIDING EVERYFUCKINGTHING AFTER YOU MULTIFUCKINGPLY.
6/2(2+1)
6/2(3)
6/6
1
We did it! We're correct! Right?
NO, DUMBASS.
You just did everything I told you not to do! People who fail to do this can graduate from school and do important jobs, like work in a hospital and stuff. How are they going to be able to administer doses of imadumbassexadrin and herpderpatonin when they can't even do PEMDAS correctly? Do people wonder why America is 17th in the world in education? It looks like I'm going to have to draw it out in crayon, like usual.
6/2(2+1)
6/2(3)
3(3)
9
We did it! Right?
YOU BET YOUR BEAUTIFUL ASS IT IS. THE ANSWER IS NINE.
(or 9 for those who can't read. You can't do order of operations, so you might read that as a different number, like 14 or Q)
You did it, dumbass!
There. I correctly answered this question. The answer is 9. Not 1, 9. If anyone tells you otherwise, punch them in the mouth so that their teeth fly into the back of their mouth, then snap their kneecaps. Hopefully you were paying attention and not thinking about asking Jennifer Simmons to the prom. She's going with me, so piss off. She doesn't want to go to the prom with a dumbass like you anyway.
Vegetarians, as defined by Webster's Dictionary, are people who practice or believe in vegetarianism, which is somewhat synonymous to being an herbivore. An American, as defined by the CanadaInAmerican Dictionary, is someone who enjoys eating mass amount of apple pie, freedom, and beef. By deductive reasoning, vegetarians are not American.
Before one jumps to conclusions, let me illustrate my points. Animal cruelty is wrong, and many systems that we have to supply meat to our nation (and the rest of the world) may be considered borderline cruel, especially considering many living conditions given to the animals that taste so good. However, it is in our species interests as humans to eat meat. It is in our taste bud's interests to eat meat, also. Shit's good, dude. The intentions behind vegetarianism aren't bad, believe me. There's nothing wrong with wanting to eat soy burgers for the rest of your life.... except for the taste. However, let us explore why vegetarianism isn't American.
Vegetarians cannot eat any meat. Meat is the main (and only) ingredient in hamburgers, hot dogs, and ham sandwiches. Done. Debate THAT. America.
Vegetarians boast about the healthier habits that come with eliminating meat from one's diet. If not eating meat is healthy, than consider me Miles Davis. The amount of brotein that comes with the servings of meat (and the type of brotein to be specific) only benefit the consumer of said meat products. It puts hair on your chest, and let's be real, the ladies LOVE a jungle on a man's torso. (see: every Hollywood character over the age of 37 ever) Brotein is essential to any living animal's diet, and you're not going to get protein from eating plants and soy and shit. It comes from a pig's soul (and torso) obviously. America.
Vegetarians also say that by eating no meat, it saves animals lives, which benefits everyone. Many of millions of chickens are killed every day to supply the ever growing supply of chicken. Beef products are a somewhat close second as America's favorite meat. By eating less beef, one is saving the planet and resources and hippie shit like that. But, by saving more cows, it actually could increase the amount of greenhouse gases emitted, and could increase the amount of global warming going on on our fine, fine planet. Al Gore may be a whackjob, but cows man, c'mon! These cows are proving this pussy right! It's in America's best interests to eat these cows to shut up Al Gore. Global warming is obviously NOT American. Cows fart. A lot. And they smell. We're doing a favor to the world by eating our delicious burgers. You're welcome, Zimbabwe. America.
Vegetarianism promotes terrorism and communism. I actually don't have any facts to back me up, but just take my word for it. America.
Finally, vegetarianism promotes the killing of live plants. What did that celery stalk ever do to YOU!? It's blatantly un-American to kill a living thing that doesn't deserve to die. Please, you're chopping down that celery stalk to add peanut butter and raisins to it, and put it out as a shitty appetizer to your even more shitty housewarming party full of douchey guests you've met once at that awful Christmas office party? Child, please. Those carrots and lettuce don't deserve to die the way they did - to supply food for a person who has trouble getting completely full on a "meal." Someone should take the plant's side on this one, because they're being brutally killed in mass killing fields also known as "farms." These farms have been made simply to harvest the "goodness" for fruits and vegetables grown just to die, which is also very un-American. If one is to kill a living object, please justify it's death somehow. Read it a prayer, or dress it up in a suit, or poop on it to fertilize it; I don't care. Just do the right thing. America.
As one can blatantly see, vegetarianism is so un-American that it's communist at this points. Once should avoid this veggie-loving diet like the plague and dig into a nice, juicy bacon cheeseburger cooked medium right this instant.***
@CanadaInAmerica
***Please note that I'm aware I've pissed off plenty of people in this highly sarcastic, satirical, and humorous post. This is not to degrade vegetarianism, but to propose that it is simply not America. While poking fun at the veggie-dorks, one must realize that it IS indeed easy to do so, and that I've decided to stretch stereotypes beyond the point of no return. If anyone took this whole article seriously, I hope you enjoy the rest of your life without a sense of humor. Any opinions and statements made in this post were for fun, and while I'm aware someone out there will be offended, please notice that this was made for entertainment and not to necessarily call out aforemetioned veggie-dorks. If anyone took offense, just drink a beer and eat a burger - life goes on. Douche. America.
Have you ever been to a sporting event? No? Well screw you. These staples in our fine American culture are what makes this nation great. There always seems to be the same types of people, regardless of team, sport, or location though. In honor of MLB Opening Day 2012, I present these people to you.
The Funny Loudmouth
The funny loudmouth may come with a group of funny loudmouth. These guys are very loyal to their team, but prefer to hang out with the bros over a few drinks. You can hear these guys through the whole section, and they're ALWAYS entertaining. They're funny, rude, and yet are not a pain in the ass to sit by. It's like sitting next to Brent Musburger commentating a game, but unlike Brent Musburger, these guys are funny and are not gigantic douches. Comments usually include "Hey 34, you SUCK!", "Let the kids play, ref!", and "67 looks like he's playing in a pee-wee league!" They encourage interaction, so feel free to join these section leaders.
The Wave Guy
Unless you're stuck in 1999, the wave is stupid. There's always one guy who wants to keep a wave going throughout the entire stadium for the entire game. You can find him easily as he's the guy standing and sitting and shouting like he has Tourette's. He'll get pissed when people don't join him in the wave too, and it can become equally funny and pathetic, so feel free to not participate. No one knows why he's reached the point of his life where creating a wave is a huge success, but he's annoying and a loser. Throw a nacho at him for me.
The Drunk Guy
With sports comes boozing. There's always a handful of drunk guys spread across the building, and they can bring some interesting consequences. The drunk guy always is sloppy and you can tell they're obviously hammered. Sometimes they're hilarious, egging on the funny loudmouth, and harassing the players to the point that they'll give you the finger when they come by your section. Other times, they're obnoxious and annoying. They'll be spilling their drinks everywhere, tripping over everyone, going for bathroom breaks as frequently as a 4th grade girl, and shouting random obscenities. The drunk guy is usually frowned upon, so avoid drinking toooooo much.
The "WOO!" Guy
The "WOO!" guy. Hey, we just scored! WOO! Shit, we just turned the ball over! WOO! Damn, they just scored! WOO! Dude, my dad just died.... WOO! This guy woo's at everything, no matter what. It's like they were raised by wolves as a child. The "WOO!" tends to cut through the rest of the idle chatter, so you can always hear this douchenozzle. Don't tell him to shut up; he'll just "WOO!" at you. Just throw a pretzel or something at him.
The Hardcore Fan
This guy has been to every home game since 1898, has watched all the away games, and has every piece of memorabilia made in the last 48 years. This guy lives, eats, and breathes his team. When you are at a game with him, he's as emotional as a menstruating woman watching a soap opera. When the team scores, he's going to be celebrating harder than a college kid who found out his slampiece is NOT pregnant. When the opposing team scores, or even worse, wins, you should avoid this guy like herpes. He'll be shouting, screaming, cursing, throwing shit, punching babies.... He's a hot mess. If the team loses, he's going to go home and cry in a corner. Hope for the best with your team, because you do NOT want to be around this guy when the team loses.
Every so often, two or more gentlemen decide to engage in a friendly wager that can result in very interesting things being done. It has turned friends into enemies, innocent people into criminals, and good kids into rambunctious savages. This is the gentlemen's bet.
The gentlemen's bet goes down like this: one person will usually make some claim about their superiority or mention something that will make them look good. Another person will call out the aforementioned individual, which may be a challenge to their ego or masculinity. Words are exchanged, and the gentlemen will agree on some wager and shake on it. This hand shake seals the fate for one person, as they are now in a (not really) legal contract and must follow through with the bet. The duration of the bet turns two friends into two moms trying to get the last Tickle Me Elmo at Walmart on Black Friday. Feelings will be hurt, words will be said, and if it's a part of the bet, parts will be shown. Even after the wager is completed, there still may be animosity between the parties involved.
The "prizes" made during gentlemen's bet may vary. The end result may be a few dollars or a free meal. The wager may also be at outlandish as having to streak somewhere, nipple cone, or other embarrassing feats. The crazier the prize, the more intense the rivalry gets. Think about it; if either you or your dumb little buddy were forced to hook up with more people than the other to allow the loser to get a tramp stamp, you bet your sweet little ass that you're going through hell and high water to whore yourself out like a Teen Mom superstar. There's no point of making a wager if you're going to half ass it. The gentlemen's bet requires to true men, none of this hipster crap. No one cares how many American Spirits you can chain smoke in a row. People want to see REAL feats of strength, like how many cartwheels someone can do before vomiting.
Now, the actual wager can vary in intensity as well. It can range from a simple football team winning to having to snort a big 'ol line of crushed red pepper to who can raise more money for a fake charity. No matter the wager, any two serious gentlemen will always do whatever it takes to win. No one likes a loser, anyway. You think the ladies are going to flock to the person who failed to jump over a moving car? NOPE. Women love a champion, even if the champion is the best as stuffing as much crap in their mouths as possible. Of course, there's a huge ego boost to the victor in these ridiculous pissing contests. You can bet that the winner will bombard the loser with "you suck"s and "told ya so!"s for a while after the throwdown occurs. Bragging rights are and will always be one of the best things about winning, and this is no different.
I know what you're thinking - why would anyone ever do something so stupid? I have an answer: BECAUSE WE CAN. You see, men always push the limits of themselves and their peers. Some use athletics as a medium, while others lean towards more obscure things, like who can throw a midget farther. It's in a man's nature to challenge each other to prove one's worth, and nothing does so in the fashion of the gentlemen's bet. Not only can you prove one's worth, but you can degrade your opponent to the rank of a punk bitch, and hold it against him for aeons to come. So next time you claim to be able to rail 8 shots in a row, think of the consequences, because you may be forced to hit on the paper bagger at the bar if your feats don't work in your favor.
Regardless of what myth says, it's definitely true that each kind of alcohol can effect you in different ways. Your wine drunk is veeeery different from your typical beer drunk. Let us see:
Beer
Ah, beer. This delicious beverage has held civilizations together for generations upon generations. Everyone can enjoy a beer or two. When you enjoy twenty-one or twenty-two, however, everything becomes interesting. Beer is one of those beverages that can sneak up on you. After downing a pitcher or two, you may be fine, but the instant you stand up to drain the 'ol sea monster, it'll hit you like a Mike Tyson hook. You'll be stumbling like, well, a drunk. Slurring your words is probably the most common symptom of a beer drunk, as well as the overwhelming beer breath that comes with it. Drinking a lot of beer can usually bring one of the sloppiest drunks, as one can continue downing a few thinking they're fine over an extended period of time. Watch out, though, as this dark horse of alcohol can kick your ass.
Tequila
I hate tequila. I. HATE. Tequila. Anytime my liver and tequila get together for a date, I always end up in a bathtub with a sombrero on. How festive. Tequila can bring the party animal out of anyone, and can take you out quicker than a rhino tranquilizer. Usually when one drinks tequila without taking breaks for other drinks, there's a good chance they'll be down for the count shortly. But between their level and sobriety and "poop my pants" drunk state, they're raging like a man on steroids and cocaine locked in a cage. They'll never turn down a drink, and will be the first to do whatever stupid thing that everyone is egging them on to do. Need someone to do a body shot off of that 450-pound old dude? The tequila friend will do it! Better get to them fast though, because they may be praying to the porcelain gods shortly.
Jagermeister
Jager can blow me. This hell liquid is my downfall. When inducing Jager, one can expect to go hard, probably be pretty sloppy later, lose your shoes, and then will bring a 92% chance for bad decisions. If you can handle this bad boy, then you're a better man than I am. Enough said.
Wine
No one can ever say no to a bottle (or three) of wine. Wine gives the most unique drunk. Wine will give you a huge head drunk, blurring your vision rather quickly while still appearing to be somewhat coherent. Your body, on the other hand, may not feel so drunk, and you can probably still maintain your motor skills better than on a different kind of drunk. Of course, wine is oh so very classy which makes you classy while drinking it too. Who cares if you just threw up on your cat? You're drinking wine, you classy son of a bitch! Just as the head drunk is intense with wine drunk, so is the hangover you'll experience in the morning. Wine hangovers are THE worst, so many sure to chug a cup of water or two before passing out.
Vodka
Not sure what to drink? Vodka it is. This default beverage can mix with just about anything, which can factor into your type of drunk. If you're mixing pop and vodka and downing it, you can expect to be drunk and spazzed out on all the caffeine. The ever popular Gatorade and vodka combo will not only get you drunk, but it'll refuel your electrolytes too! Vodka to me is the typical drunk; even parts sloppy, even parts head and body drunk, even parts bad decisions. The worst part is just how awful it goes down too. Drinking it straight though can bring out your inner Soviet, putting so much hair on your chest that you won't know what to do with it. Bringing out your inner Soviet may bring out the anger that comes with the Soviets too, so watch out. Flavored vodkas don't seem to affect the type of drunk from my field research, so enjoy your new birthday cake flavored vodka!
Whiskey
The drink of ALL gentlemen's drinks, whiskey will get you feeling a good buzz faster than most other drinks, mostly because you're drinking it straight. But just like wine, you're a classy mofo when you're drinking whiskey. As with most liquors, you can expect a more intense head drunk compared to beer, but whiskey will tend to plateau at some point, leaving you in the fine balance of being intoxicated, but still able to operate and enjoy yourself. If you tip the balance of that in any way, there's a possibility of making for a less than fun night, so don't abuse the whiskey. Forget YOUR limits. Respect the whiskey's limits.
Rum
If you drink rum then you will become a pirate. Plain and simple.
Gin
I personally also cannot stand gin. This crappy pine tree juice tastes awful going down and tends to give a weird drunk that many cannot enjoy. It gives a more body drunk, which can be weird, as it feels like your head and body are separated, like some headless horseman shit. Gin, while used in many classy drinks such as martinis, can bring out an unexpected and unclassy side of a person that tends to reflect poorly. Gin makes people sloppy for some reason, and it's not like a classy whiskey or wine sloppy. It's about a notch or two down from the tequila sloppiness that can occur, except without the salt or limes. Unless enjoying a fine martini, I suggest you avoid gin, and it will want to avoid your stomach as much as possible.
As anyone with Internet or a TV should know, the Mega Millions lottery has hit a whopping $640 jackpot. I know my luck, so I bought a ticket and plan on winning this massive amount of cash. Some may say that $640M is too much for one person to ever have. I say, screw them! Here's what I'll do when I win this money.
During the time my numbers are picked tonight (around 11p EST), I will be riding around downtown Columbus in a limo. (I'm actually not kidding on that) When I find out that I've won what is deservedly mine, I will instantly find the nearest cigar shop and buy the most expensive cigar there. I will then light it with a $100 bill and pay the limo driver to take our late night posse around to the finest bars and clubs. I'll buy a stripper at each place and add them to our posse. I'll probably right then and there buy one of the clubs I like and make it open bar for the entire place. There's maybe only a million or two dropped right there.
Once we are driven back in MY new limo, I'll pass out on my new memory foam mattress I ordered at the bar. I'll snuggle with my golden poodle tonight. Oh yeah, I'm buying a dog for my dog. Awesome, right!? I will wake up, take my routine morning poop, wipe with $100 bills, and take a golden shower. No, not THAT golden shower, but a shower made out of gold. I'll have one of my strippers sponge bathe me too while I read an issue of Forbes magazine. I'll get out and dry off with my brand spanking new full-body air dryer. They don't make them yet - I have the only one.
Since I'm not a greedy person, I'll instantly pay off my student loans, my parent's mortgage and any debt they've accumulated, and send like $10M for my family to split. Chump change, in my book. You can call me the Oprah of lottery winners. You get a million, YOU get a million, EVERYONE GETS A MILLION BUCKS!
After I'm done being nice, I'll probably buy the country of Greece. Why? Because I can. Gyros will now be called Jordanos. Greek food will then be called Jordan food. Back here in the states, I'll probably open a sweet club/bar with some sweet name that has yet to be determined and only hire the best DJ's in the world to perform. You're welcome, America! I'll go back home after my purchases to my new mansion.
Now, my mansion will include all golden toilet and showers, with rolls of $100 bills to wipe with, like I had previously mentioned. Each bathroom will have a bathroom, too. Why not? My living room will consist of a full wall which is a plasma screen TV, which is similar to the one Barney Stinson has in his bachelor pad. Memory foam sofas will line the room while sweet pictures of sweet shit will cover the walls. I'll turn on the TV and, wait, what's that? Looks my new team, the Los Angeles Lakers, are on TV tonight! Sweet! I'll run to my kitchen (which is conveniently a Chipotle/Cane's Chicken combo restaurant) and grab some snacks.
Once the game's over, we can head to my pool/jacuzzi that overlooks the city. We'll sip Dom Perignon while discussing our latest investments in Fortune 500 companies, of which I will be a board member of 6 of them. Of course, we'll be smoking stogies lit with our $100 bills. We'll converse about my new monument I erected in the town's downtown area. He's a handsome man, you know.
Finally, before the day is over, I'll have the P90X dude give me a workout personally while.... "enjoying" the company of the lovely ladies I brought over. They're nice girls, you should meet them sometime. I'll open the house up for a housewarming party that P. Diddy could only wish he could throw. Enough drinks to get the country of Finland drunk for 3 full weeks and enough Chipotle to send even the most strong stomached individual to the toiler three times a night. After everyone vomits and passes out, I'll have my branch of the local maid service come in and clean up while I enjoy watching my Lakers win again.
I only spent a 5th of my fortune too, and that's on a mild day. Imagine what every other day would be like....
No, this isn't another video about shit llamas say or anything. This is, however, a rant about the stupid, overused phrases that the world needs to stop saying this instant. There are many reasons for why these terms needs to cease and desist. Some of them are just annoying, some make you sound like an uneducated dumbass, while some just make you look like an idiot when you say them. These are those terms:
"You Only Live Once"
No shit Sherlock, how long did it take for you to realize this one? If I lived more than once, I'd be a sweet ass velociraptor and not some guy writing blog articles about stupid phrases. This phrase has been around for a while, but then that guy Drake made a song about The Motto and now anyone who wants to be accepted is adding "YOLO" to the end of everything daring they think they're doing. No one cares that you're eating a donut while on your diet because you only live once. I sure as hell don't care if you don't buckle your seatbelt because YOLO. You sound like a crazed teen band fan girl, except with less brain cells. If you're going to pick a different inspirational quote, pick one that can affect people, something like "Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you'll land among the stars." I'd much rather people say SFTMEIYMYLATS than YOLO, because at the end of the day, YOLO both sounds like a ripoff clothing line and a dirty thing people do their wives at the end of the day. SFTMEIYMYLATS just sounds dumb, but has a real core meaning to it that can appeal to people who don't listen to mainstream media. Stop saying this dumb, overused phrase or I'll end your life that you only live once. Please.
"Dat Shit Cray/Cray Cray"
I want to hit Kanye West in the face with a fish stick for coining this dumb phrase. Made famous by being blurted out in Kanye's collab with Jay-Z, "Niggas In Paris," everyone has decided to lower themselves to the literacy of a flower by shouting this anytime something potentially wild may happen. There are so many other synonomical verses one can speak instead of "dat shit cray," including "That's nucking futs!", "Off the chain, yo!", and even the once overused term "This shit is bananas!" Nothing is "cray" about this phrase except for the amount of people using it, and the fact people still willingly use it despite using a word that is clearly missing a letter. Your 4th grade English teacher would slap the crap out of you if they ever heard you say "dat shit cray." Knock it off, crayfish.
"Sorry For Partying"
Oh, I get it! You went out last night and got like SUUUUPER wasted, and then tell everyone about all the crazy shenanigans you got into, and then you spout out "lol sorry 4 parteying!1" because you're really NOT sorry you partied! It all makes sense now. While the ladies in the pictures may be easy on the eyes, you still sound like an idiot saying this. In a world that has glamorized partying, this phrase just makes me think of that try-hard Kesha and her stupid antics. You don't want to be like her, do you? She's not even good looking. Anyway, this phrase is so overdone, especially by girls, who feel the need to stick it to the man because they had 14 cherry bombs and threw up on the bouncer. Sorry for partying! Everyone parties/has partied, and no one really cares if one does so. No need to address to the world how cool you are (not).
"Swag"
I may not fully understand the concept of swag, but from what I've picked up, it's what lame and uncool people need to get laid. To me, swag is attempting to bring your style into a world where everyone is the same. Well, if everyone is trying to bring their own style, wouldn't that make everyone trying to bring in swag, swagless? Swag is like the hipster, but only with flashy jewelry and stupid limps while walking. This fad needs to stop. If you need swag to get along in life, then you should reevaluate your life then. Leave swag at the curb, next to where the hookers and trash are. Find skill, intelligence, and logic, and then you won't need this "cure-all" swag.
April showers bring May flowers, but what does March bring? YOGA PANTS! Yoga pants are skin-tight trousers made of thin fabric that is fun for the whole family. If you don't like yoga pants, then you're a communist. Here's why both girls and guys can love this fantastic article of clothing:
-Girls love how comfortable they are
I can't say I've ever put a pair of these puppies on, but women rave about how comfortable and soft they are. Apparently it's like wearing a La-Z-Boy around your ass all day. In a world where women where uncomfy boob restraints, the yoga pant offers a different perspective, allowing your waist and legs to enjoy the feeling of pantlessness whilst still wearing pants! If this were made for guys, I'd wear them around the house all day with my house shoes and shit. They'd have to be manly though. Maybe through some USA flag print or something on it.
-Guys love how girl's butts look in them
Let's cut the shit: yoga pants are like push-up bras for your ass. Yoga pants can turn a pancake butt into something with shape, and can turn a medium-sized butt into a real donk. If you asked a guy what his favorite type of trousers were, he'd say yoga pants were second (obviously after no pants). Guys can be notorious for checking out the hiney of a finey, and these trousers from heaven only ass, I mean add fuel to the fire. It's like dangling a Big Mac in front of a homeless man.
-Girls love how yoga pants can go with almost any outfit
Wearing a t-shirt today? Yoga pants. Am I going to do yoga? Yoga pants. Going for a jog with my running attire? Yoga pants. Need something underneath your short dress? Yoga pants. They're like the chameleon of pants. The typical pair of black yoga pants can go with almost any ensemble, partly because the color black can go with anything. But for some reason, the yoga pant can ass, I mean add a classy touch, regardless of what one's wearing up top. Heck, it's look fine without a top! My theory is that is doesn't draw a lot of attention to the lower portion of the body. Thin, black pants don't necessarily stand out, leaving the attention up top.
-Guys love how girl's butts look in them
Let's cut the shit: yoga pants are like push-up bras for your ass. Yoga pants can turn a pancake butt into something with shape, and can turn a medium-sized butt into a real donk. If you asked a guy what his favorite type of trousers were, he'd say yoga pants were second (obviously after no pants). Guys can be notorious for checking out the hiney of a finey, and these trousers from heaven only ass, I mean add fuel to the fire. It's like dangling a Big Mac in front of a homeless man.
-Girls love the fabric
I may be getting redundant as the fabric definitely adds to the comfortability factor mentioned earlier, but there's more reasons for girls to love the fabric of yoga pants! With the fabric being so thin, it can make you feel like you're wearing nothing at all! It can allow your parts to breathe while still being clothed, which I can only imagine how awesome that feels, even my only judgement is from my experiences of standing over air blowing upwards from a downtown sewer grate. The thinness allows one to be comfy while not being overheated as well. Before yoga pants, 'comfy' was synonymous with 'warm, fuzzy, soft clothing.' This, by deductive reasoning, makes yoga pants a game changer, eternalizing them among the top pants of all time.
-Guys love how girl's butts look in them
Let's cut the shit: yoga pants are like push-up bras for your ass. Yoga pants can turn a pancake butt into something with shape, and can turn a medium-sized butt into a real donk. If you asked a guy what his favorite type of trousers were, he'd say yoga pants were second (obviously after no pants). Guys can be notorious for checking out the hiney of a finey, and these trousers from heaven only ass, I mean add fuel to the fire. It's like dangling a Big Mac in front of a homeless man.
But seriously, this is the only reason that benefits men. If you ladies had an everyday article of clothing for guys that could make you wetter than a sponge in a rainstorm, you'd obviously place that positive ahead of many other potential ones. I can't really think of any other positive for yoga pants for men though, unless they suddenly catch on and we lose the Affliction tees and start wearing these yoga pants.
Wait, shit! Us guys have been wearing this crap forever! I guess they really are as comfy as the women say they are....
