Archive for October, 2009

I went to Memphis for my Birthday and all I got was this stank ass Pillow

memphis pillow

As some of you, or none of you, know, I am from the sewage drain pipe home of the blues, Memphis TN. Most of my fam and friends still live there even though I have been gone for years. So this past weekend as we celebrated our 27th 19th birthday, some of our friends brought us home for the festivities. Here is the 5 edition of my birthday weekend in Mtown.

1) RedBird: You know how it is, you go out of town and you have to see people. Sometimes those people are ones who you would rather not spend your precious few moments on but whatevs, you do it. So while you and your cohorts are preparing for what will either be really pleasant or excruciatingly painful, your buddy decides you need a safe word. No, not the kind that those sicko dominatrix freaks use, but kinda the same concept. You laugh hysterically as you all throw out ideas, maybe steeple, with pointed fingers, here’s the church, here’s the steeple, open the door and run for your life. Or maybe something obtuse, like red bird. You wind up leaving without ever actually choosing one and when you find yourself at the house that boredom built you start to feel like you need a way out. Then, SAVIOR! You look over and see you homie with pointed steeple fingers, could he be as bored as you are? Who cares? Get it goin, so you utter those two words… RED BIRD. You look over to your bestie and start wildly, loudly, repeating those words hoping that she catches on and before you know it the entire room is staring at you wondering why the eff you keep screaming RED BIRD, FOR CHRIST SAKE, RED BIRD! While your bestie finally realizes what you are talking about, you have collapsed into hysterical fits of laughter, joined by your buddy. She finally snaps to and you all start gathering your shit and making excuses about having to pee, or shower, or be anywhere but here. Thank god for code words. And if you’re reading this and recall a certain group of people in your living room laughing and screaming RED BIRD, rest assured, I’m talking about someone else. No, really.

2) What happens on Beale stays on Beale, and the parking Garage, and the scary ass ride home: We knew we didn’t want to go to the world famous Beale street before we went to Memphis, but we did anyway. Damn persuasive friends. Our girl,and co writer Kimmie was gracious enough to inform us of a lil diddy called a “call a cab”, and sweet jesus, we should have. After the three of us, me, Kimmie, and our bestie dude friend, Luke, consumed around eleventy ten of those strong ass drinks it got hairy. We found ourselves standing outside, smoking cigarettes and laughing at all the weird looking people walkin by. Then, golden moments happened. The kind of hilarity that only ensues when one or more people are drunk and not just a little. While standing outside, partaking in sweet cancer, a latino man came and stood by us. A very large latino man. I said someone among us says ” He looks like a Latino Fat Albert”, as if that wasn’t enough…. it was followed by. HOLA HOLA HOLA, es Grande Alberto! OMG. Our buddy Luke swears that the rude comment made by someone who is definitely not me, was heard. The point is, would he have heard it if Kimmie and Luke weren’t doubled over and crying laughing? I think not. It’s all about discretion people. This is clearly all your fault.

3) Don’t make me get a screw driver: So Saturday was the big day. My birthday. We hung out, did some Red Bird type activities, and Saturday night, had quite the shindig at Kimmie’s humble abode. Lots of people came, but more importantly, lots of liquor came. Lots and lots and lots of liquor. Our girl Sarah W., who is apparently a light weight now, came and we were so excited, hadn’t seen her in like 6 years and it was awesome. As the night went on she got more and more drunk. Here is a pic of her and I together, she’s on the right and her face pretty much says it all013, and of course, despite my smile, I can promise you, all I’m thinking is, ” uh…. please don’t puke in my hair.” She shortly thereafter, locked herself in Kimmie’s bathroom for a new record of 3 hours! You get the drunkest girl there award! Every time we tried to convince her to open the door she would respond with, inna minute! After 3 hours, Luke threatened her with removing the door knob with a screw driver and suddenly she was motivated to let me in.  Then I found her, wasted and half asleep, on the toilet, Elvis style ( like the inadvertent Memphis reference?). After I helped her off to bed so she could sleep it off and we could all pee for god’s sake, we drank lots more and I am ashamed to say, I fell asleep on the couch watching Twilight. Don’t judge me.

4) Is it just me, or is the DD Drunk?: So we’re at my party, it’s good. We’re drunk, as we should be. But…ok, let’s back track for a moment. Have you ever been at a party and had someone invite their friends without really asking you if it was cool? It’s a big no no, don’t be a douche! Truth is you were probably only barely accepted anyway, don’t fuck it up by bringing random people no one but you knows, it’s lamespice.N_E_hoo, such a faux pas was made and one of Luke’s friends thought she should bring a friend to drive her home so that she could fully enjoy the bountiful boos available. Thing is, her DD was drunk on arrival. Not just a little drunk either, the kind that makes you introduce yourself to the same person 17 times in the span of like 5 minutes.  Yes, she was that girl. That drunk girl who doesn’t know where she is but knows it’s a good time. The girl who grabs your ass in the midst of someone taking your picture and when you turn around says ” Hey, I’m Heather.” For future reference, if you can’t remember the other 17 times you intro’d yourself, ass grabbing? Not cool.  And, this is just a suggestion, you might consider callin a cab, cuz your DD isn’t gonna get you home so much as get you dead.

5) Time to go home, where the shit are my pants?: The good time has come to an end. It’s Sunday morning and I have to get up, pack my crap and head out with Luke so that I can catch a hellhound Grey Hound bus back to the SC. My girl Sarah W. wakes up and the first thing she wants to know are where her pants are, she obviously doesn’t remember me taking them so I could wash em, chunks are so last year. I pack up, and we head out. I know I feel slightly, okay REALLY hung over, and am dreading the thought of an 8 hour bus ride back to my lil hometown. As we wait at Luke’s for the bus he finally gives me my gift. An old used, and kinda musky pillow for the ride home. AWWWW, so thoughtful. Now I can sleep on the bus, or not. People, don’t sleep on the bus. Seriously, don’t. There are all kinds of creepy weirdos waiting for a juicy morsel of normal to fuck with the second you pass out. It’s the thought that counts though right? I hugged him and said thank you, and offered to mail him his pillow back( it really smelled), but he said it was cool. Always lookin out for me. All in all, it was a really good time, lots of boos, laughs, and drunken girls acting accordingly. Love it.

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5 worst places to find a mate

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Some of our friends are recently single and some are terminally single. As we watch them from the man we’re chained to our happy marriage, we have noticed that they seem to be looking for love in all the wrong places.

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No way are they going to hook up like that and if they do it will prolly result in a trip to a doctor resulting in cream of some sort. Because we are the loyal and loving friends that we are we decided to send them a lil list of what we consider to be the worst places to hook up so they can save themselves from heartache…… and syphilis.

 

 

1) Bars, making ugly people cute for a millenium: Look, we all know I keepz it real soo let’s try to not be offended when I say this: YOU ARE DUMB. Let’s face it, Mr. Right isn’t gonna be at Denim and Diamonds or what the shit ever hole in the wall bar you frequent. And if you’re looking for the girl of your dreams she’s prolly not gonna be at the dive bar gettin drunk and singin Garth Brooks along with the jukebox or riding a mechanical bull. If you are interested in anything longer than the time it takes to clear up the clap then you should probably try broadening your horizons a bit. I’m just saying, if you want love it probably isn’t going to include the girl who blew you in a dumpster.

 

 

2) We be clubbin: Or we be….ahh fuk it. The club is a dangerous place for single people. Doubt it? Okay, let’s examine the facts: There is dark lighting. The kind that prevents you from seeing how truly fug the person you’re talking to at the bar is. Before you know it you’re ankle deep in garbage with some horrendous hose beast tryin to get your pants off. Not good. They serve alcohol. Bad again, I can pretty much sum it up with 2 words here folks: beer goggles. You think you have Megan Foxx and you wind up with Kirstie Ally. Scary but true kids. Staying away from clubs is a must when searching for your soul mate. You never want to wake up with a hangover AND an uggo.

 

3) Online: Helping Psychos find victims for over a decade: This internet dating craze is just that… crazy. What the fuzz knuckle are you people thinking?Why would sharing details with a stranger sound good to you? Would you just walk up to some random person on the street and be like ” Hi, My name is Gina and I like long walks on the beach and classical music.” No, you wouldn’t. It would be stupid and dangerous. You wouldn’t want Joe Blow stalker freak off the street to have your number or know what you looked like. Why would you give that info to someone who you have never met? RE-DONK. Besides, everybody knows that it’s all fat trekkies anyway.

 

4) They tried to make me go to rehab and I said hey you’re hot: Why is it when junkies check into rehab they find love? Are you fucking serious right now? Rehab? Like you don’t have enough shit going on already. I mean you’re at the low point in your life, a junkie. Now you think that, what, God sent you there to find love? No sweetie, he didn’t. And sobriety isn’t a more the merrier kind of scenario. When have you ever heard someone say ” You know what would be awesome? Another junkie!” Stop using rehab as your personal dating service, it’s weird. More importantly it’s doomed and in the meantime who knows how many times the 2 of you will swap out BJ duty so you can buy rock before you decide to get sober again.

 

 

 

5) Church, nuff said: If you’re at church and you bring home that special someone, how do you do it? You can’t really be yourself can you? You can’t tell them that you have this fetish involving feet and puppets can you? These are god fearing people we’re talking about. Is it even appropriate to try and holla at somebody in church? You all know how the lord feels about fornication and dirty thoughts. What if he heard you and thought you were thinking those thoughts about the lord almighty God. How do you think Jesus would feel if he thought you wanted to finally try golden showers with him? Not good I’ll tell you.All I’m saying is eternal damnation is a long time to be sorry about trying to get some play.

5 Reasons I hate Jon Gosselin

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Like much of the country, I hate Jon Gosselin. Not just the kind of hate that really means a general dislike either, real hate. Maybe it’s because he’s a cheater or a thief, or a shitty father. Who knows with all the many things he does that inspire hate in even the most forgiving of people? Here are our five reasons, although, if it wouldn’t totally break this whole 5 thing we have going on, we would list ALOT more.

 

1) Jon Gosselin renders sane women blind, deaf, and dumb: Why is it that when it comes to Jon G women act as if they are completely devoid of sense and senses? First Kate, who, might I say, I think is a crazy ass control freak but a genius in the terms of securing financial security for the family, lost her damn mind and married this pudgy pushover. Then she had a whole shit load of kids with him when she had to know he was a douche bag. I mean let’s face it, who doesn’t know, on some level, that their man is a d-bag?  Then he convinced the nanny to hook up with his ass when she already knew what was going on in his house and his life. Then again with a journalist, a GOSSIP journalist! Why are they all acting like they can’t see his bloated stomach or acne? Like they don’t know what he’s been up to or that he pulls more poon than R-Patz at a Twilight convention. I mean come on ladies, and I use the term loosely, don’t think that his hoe hopping is going to stop because of you! He has 8 kids, a crazy ex, and millions of dollars, he ain’t looking to hitch himself to anything but Ed Hardy and a big ole box of clap cream.

 

2) You got my money bitch?: Recent reports have surfaced suggesting that Jon emptied the joint bank account held between himself and his soon to be ex Kate. Seriously? You really thought that at this point it was a rational thing to do to take ALL of the money and leave the person raising your 8 kids with a grand? Wow, here’s a tip Jon, Google yourself. See what the world thinks of you. You’re not fooling anyone, we all hate you and I’m pretty sure that at some point in the very near future your kids will too. Lemme try and help you on your road to redemption. Here are some tips, 1) stop banging sluts, it’s bad for your image and your balls. 2) Spend less time wearing Ed Hardy and smoking cigs and more time buying Proactive for your yuckface and seeing your kids. 3) GET A JOB! You have 8 kids and divorce is coming hon, child support on all of those midgets is gonna be costly, maybe you should try condom endorsements, it’s obvious you didn’t use them in the past but we’re all hoping you are now!

 

 

3) What was your name again?: On his eldest children’s birthday he misspelled one of their names on the cake. Let’s just put it out there, no funny banter needed. It’s that kind of blatant douche baggery that makes me hate you Jon! Let’s be real here, you know that those kids are the only reason anyone even knows who you are or ever gave a shit in the first place. So now you can’t remember how to spell their name? Really? I bet when your check comes you always remember whose name is supposed to go on it! Try some decency, it might help people hate you less. If I were you I would just go to some 3rd world country, send in my child support checks and hope to geez nobody figures out where I am. And hey, there are always hot tribal bitches looking for a man with a few goats to knock them up and leave them holding the baby bag. Stick to what you know!

 

4) Just because: Some things are easy. Hating foreign dictators, hoping for world peace, and hating you. You embody all the things that women hate. You are a cheater, a liar, a shitty lazy father, UGLY, a tacky dresser, and a thief. If you wanted people to like you you sure are going about it the wrong way. You have to think honey, why would anyone like you?  What are you doing that people might find endearing? Banging sluts? Taking money from your own kids? Shamelessly whoring yourself out to the media? Yeah, no one likes any of that. Hire an image consultant for christ’s sake! When you go out in public just shut the fuck up already! Every time you talk you give us something else to hate you for. Maybe consider dumping the jobless pot smoking 20 something stupid shit Hailey that you seem to be so fond of. All I can say is you just being you is enough reason to give you a good swift kick in your nuts followed by a punch in the face.

 

 

5) Yeah….um….we can see you: You seem to be popping up on tv and saying things like ” People don’t know the whole story” and ” I’m just misunderstood”. Um….. no. You’re not. WE CAN SEE YOU ASSHOLE. All those pictures of you running around with random bitches and smoking and partying on yacts and shit, um, yeah, that’s you. It’s hard to misinterpret a picture of you sans meal tickets on a boat with that one slut drinking champagne while your WIFE is home with 8 effing kids. You’re not fooling us! We see you out there and we see the whole picture. You are a DOUCHE BAG, YOU ARE A MAN WHORE, YOU ARE A SHITTY LAY ABOUT FATHER. These are the facts honey, the sooner you accept it and try to change the sooner women across the country will not vomit and consider sterilization at the mention of your name.