Thursday, January 20, 2011

Random Thought: Dogs

After walking my dog I realized a few things I would never be doing without a dog, like walking around town with a bag of shit, or snorting cocaine off of a dog's head.

Saturday, September 4, 2010


The first rule of Mime Club: you do not talk.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Some Picture Prompt Quickies

I Love You
“Don’t worry sweatie, I’ll have this tire fixed in no time.”
“That’s what you said 2 hours ago, Dad.”
“This time I mean it, sport.”
As Dad went back to work on the tire, Denise stared off into the distance, dreaming about the day Lord Satan would bless her with his seed.

Corey tapped his dad on the shoulder and held the strange object up for him to see.
“What is it Daddy?”
“Well dumbass, that’s a seashell. They come from the gift shop but they suck so people just leave them on the beach. Now for the tenth time, bury me in the god damn sand!”
Corey dropped the shell and dreamed about the day he’d be reunited with his real father, Lord Satan.

“I don’t care what you say Artie! I’m going on this date! I want an open relationship!” Jessica yelled as she applied makeup to her stupid looking face.
Artie stormed into the bathroom dialing his cell phone. “Fine, if you want to be open, let’s be open!”
Jessica chuckled. “Yeah right Artie, you don’t know any girls.”
That night, Artie and 90 other men set the world record for the gayest orgy ever.

“This helicopter looks stupid Craig, we’re not Jamaican! And you’re from Kansas!”
“Bro, you know how much I love Marley and shit, so stop busting my chops!”
Ricardo smirked. “Did you say ‘chops’ cause we’re in a ‘chopper’?”
When Craig realized the unintentional pun he just made, his mind literally blew up in his head. Impressively, he still managed to land the helicopter and chug a soda before dropping dead.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Dream Jobs

Remember when you were a kid and you would fantasize about what you wanted to do with your life? Nothing was unrealistic because you could always hide behind the fact that you hadn’t hit puberty yet and adulthood was light years away. Then it happens; you grow up. Suddenly the idea of being an astronaut or shark hunter doesn’t seem so plausible anymore, and you’re stuck with the choice of cashier or fry cook.

When I was a kid I was always dreaming about the future and the profession I would have. While most of the dreams have been abandoned, it’s always nice to look back at what could have been.

These are the jobs I used to dream about:

Age 3: A dog
Though I never owned a dog or saw one in person, the canine instinct just came to me naturally. This was probably due to the fact that I didn’t learn to walk until age 5, so I spent most of my time on all fours. I remember my mom would play along by serving me food in a dish and making me sleep in a cage. The real selling point was that as a dog, I could work from home, sleep all day, and hump whomever I wanted.

Age 6: A superhero
When I was a kid there was nothing I loved more than superheroes. I knew them all…Spiderboy, Wolferine, that one with the gun. Sometimes I would pretend I was a superhero and run around on my front lawn doing cartwheels to the Beach Boys. I guess that isn’t much of a superhero thing to do, but I called myself Beach Boy and wore nothing but a cape.

Age 8: A gravedigger
Not gonna lie, I was just jumping on the bandwagon with this one.

Age 11: A lawyer
Though I’ve never had an interest in law, being a lawyer just made sense to me. They’re respected, make a lot of money, and Jim Carrey played one. The whole idea of lawyers being corrupt and hell sent didn’t faze me much because at age 11 I didn’t give a fuck about shit. If you’ve ever seen the movie Thirteen, that was me at 11. If you’ve ever seen the movie 13 Going On 30, that was me laughing to tears. I got a bit off track here, but to sum it up, I wanted to be a lawyer for the pussy.

Age 13: A drummer
By the age of 13 I was a member of multiple bands. There was Brian And The Crabs, Brian And His Uncles, and New Found Glory. Here’s a picture of me on tour with NFG around the age of 12. Feel free to notice my necklace and gold teeth, which combined cost more than your car.


As much as I loved the fast life of sex, drugs, and rock n’ roll, it became too much for me. By age 14 it was all about drugs, drugs, and dancehall reggae. After New Found Glory gave me the boot, I attempted to start my own band, Sabrina And The Teenage Witches. The combination of country music and witchcraft was way ahead of its time, causing me to abandon the band, and the dream.

Age 15: A dog
The humping thing really seemed like something I could do with my life. I also really wanted to kill the mailman.

Age 18: A bus boy
This was a dream come true during the summer of 2007, but it was nothing like I thought it would be. Lets take a look at this title for a second: “bus boy.” While the job requirements involved plenty of “boy,” there was a severe lack of “bus.” Did I get to drive a bus? No. Did I get to work inside of a bus? No. Did I even get to look at a bus? Never! The whole thing was a sham. All I got to do was clean tables, take out garbage, and give baths to the kitchen staff. On second thought, it wasn’t all that bad.

Age 20 (present day): A bear
Here’s what bears do:
1. Hibernate
2. Fish
3. Pick berries
4. Steal picnic baskets
Here’s what bears don’t do:
1. Give a fuck
Could I picture myself living in the woods, eating, sleeping, and having sex with lady bears? Absolutely. This is a job that I would give 110% to for the rest of my life…or at least until retirement.

So will I stick with my goal of being a bear? Who knows? Maybe I’ll make movies, maybe I’ll write for television, or maybe I’ll just be a cashier or fry cook. Whatever my future job may be I can only hope that it’s fun, challenging, and pays enough to support my children, my drug habits, and my children’s drug habits.

Friday, December 18, 2009

Greenland's Coat Of Arms

So one day I was talking to my friend and something came up about Greenland. From what I remembered, Greenland was named by a Viking who wanted to trick people into thinking it was “green” (marijuana was legal) so that they would settle there. While searching around the Internet to find out if that was true, I came across this beauty:

This is Greenland’s coat of arms. I don’t know what they were going for when they made this, but to me it looks like a polar bear practicing his passionate kisses. (And you’re looking good buddy!) I asked my friend what it looked like to him, but he didn’t respond because he’s a rabbit and can’t talk. Instead he just ate some lettuce.

Judging by the tongue I’d say that Greenland is either:
1. Home to fire breathing bears.
2. Sponsored by Nike.
3. Full of diehard KISS fans.

In conclusion, never trust Vikings.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Picture Prompt #3: Crime Scene

It was a typical morning in the small town of Riverdale. The grass was fresh with dew, the church bells were ringing, and a woman lay brutally murdered on the street.

Officers Davis and Ashford were the first ones to arrive at the crime scene.

“I need a goddamn vacation,” Ashford snarled, spitting a wad of tobacco juice on the bloodstained street.

Davis squinted his eyes in rage. “Not until the son-of-a-bitch who did this gets his life long vacation behind bars!”

Just then, an older man in a suit approached the two officers.

“Hello gentlemen, I just wanted to stop by and introduce myself. My name is Henry Robinson and I’m running for mayor of Riverdale.”

Robinson extended his hand in a friendly gesture, but Davis and Ashford kept their attention on the body.

Robinson retracted his hand to his side. “Alright then. It was nice meeting-“

Davis cocked his eyebrow. “Running for mayor, huh?”

“That’s right! Just wanted to make sure I had the support of the force!”

Davis turned his head from the body and looked the politician dead in the eye.

“You sure you running for something…not FROM!?”

Robinson chuckled nervously to himself. “Wh-what are you talking about, officer?”

“Where were you last night around 3 am?!”

“Well I was, I was-“

“You were here, weren’t you?!” Ashford yelled, showering the old man in tobacco juice.

“No!” Robinson yelled in a panic. “I was home with my family!”

“Don’t dick me around, Robinson!” Davis yelled. “Don’t you dick me around!”

The old man began to tremble. Sweat was running down his forehead like the drool running out of Ashford’s mouth.

“Okay okay! I did it! I killed her! She was a hooker and she was gonna blackmail me!”

Davis looked at the old man in disgust. “That’s all I wanted to hear. Take him away boys!”

As Robinson was cuffed and escorted to the back of a cop car, Davis and Ashford shook their heads in disappointment.

Ashford turned towards Davis. “He sure won’t be getting my vote.”

Davis just nodded. “Let’s go get that vacation.”

Saturday, September 12, 2009

A Page From My Diary: The New Girl


Dear Diary,

Today I laid my eyes on the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. She was the new girl in school and I could tell just by looking at her that we had nothing in common. She appeared wealthy, athletic, and a bit African American. Despite the fact that I’m middle class, over weight, and racist, I think I might be in love.


Dear Diary,

The new girl sat in the empty desk next to mine and I knew I had to pull out all of the moves. As she looked over in my direction I twirled my rat-tail with my finger while wildly winking at her. She immediately turned away, which made me think that my advances had failed. Then I noticed her nipples get hard. Mission accomplished.


Dear Diary,

At lunch I saw the new girl sitting alone at the corner table. I would have invited her to sit with me and my friends, but Tommy isn’t very friendly, and Mark is straight up in a wheelchair. To avoid them cramping my style, I ditched my entourage and made my way to her table. I thought a joke might break the ice, so I sat on her lap and said, “Hello Santa, I’d like a Christmas present!” I don’t know if it’s because she’s Jewish, and I don’t know if it’s because I farted on her lap, but she didn’t find it very funny. Instead she threw up on my pants.


Dear Diary,

I saw the new girl after school and offered to carry her books. She pointed to her backpack, most likely as a way of saying she could carry her own books, but I took it as an offer for her to carry mine, so I loaded them in. We started to walk and I tried my best to make conversation, but all of the words were coming out wrong. “Lovely weather we’re having,” sounded like, “Lovely weather we’re napping,” and “Do you like skiing?” sounded more like, “Pee on me.” When we got to her house I retrieved my books and leaned in for a kiss. Instead of smearing my hazelnut chap stick, she ran inside and locked the door. Third grade is such a confusing time.