Cell Phone @ The Bar

I refuse to talk about etiquette for actual cell phone usage. It's been driven into the ground and I won't begin beating that dead horse. What I will discuss is the etiquette of having a cell phone. Particularly at a alcohol serving establishment (read: bar). There should be some expectations and guarantees while carrying your phone during a night of drinking. Here's a list of my rules, starting with the most important rule... 1. If you are female, and you set your phone on the table, your pictures are subject to approval by at least one other guy that is drinking with you. It's usually me and I do in fact warn you before I do it. You should always have some hot pictures on your phone for such an occasion. 2. If you are a guy, you will probably be asked to share your ringtones with the group at some point. Go ahead and share, but be aware that you will be one-upped by some jackass who thinks his is better. That jackass will be me. Mine are always better than yours. 3. Text messaging across a table is an acceptable way for talking shit about someone else at the table. It is also acceptable to do when commenting on someone's rack or hitting on someone's girlfriend. 4. At some point, someone will want to use their "great new camera phone that takes pictures way better than yours" to take pictures. Flipping them off is an acceptable pose. Don't brag about your new phone that your parents bought you. 5. If you are drunk and you get a text message asking for a 'fun' picture, you must head straight to the nearest restroom and oblige. Its a little known law and you will be turned in if you resist. The only exception is if you are 'taken', whatever that may mean. 6. Drunk texting, although sometimes annoying, is an acceptable drunken pastime and should always be consequence-free. It doesn't matter how late, raunchy, or revealing the messages are, you are unable to get mad about it. Althoughtm there is such a thing as too much. Drunk dialing, however, does end at midnight...or so. 7. Rather than wasting paper to write down your phone number, you are allowed to grab someone's phone and enter it yourself. This is all assuming she/he wants it. Afterwards, please refer to rule #1. 8. If you are female and you leave your phone unattended, you will find a picture of male genitalia on your phone later that week. Accept it. 9. If you are banging your friend's sister/girlfriend or brother/boyfriend, don't leave your phone behind. The last thing someone wants to see when enacting rule #1 is a) their loved one's number in your phone and b) a naked picture of said loved one. 10. If you have naked pictures of girls on your phone, don't show it to everyone. You all are ruining it for the rest of us because now the girls don't trust me us . Shame on you. Shame on you all.

Fate Poster

Sometimes things don't work out like you want them to. If you're child is a high school dropout, start hitting your husband on a regular basis because his aim sucks.

New Word: GLORIOUS

GLORIOUS [gah-lore-reeus] adj. (all CAPS, often said with an opera-esque accent on the 'lore') 1. Something really good, almost angelic. 2. A word used to describe an enjoyable body part. 3. < GRAND Example: Did you see her ass? It was GLORIOUS. Edit: Ok, so it isn't 'new'. Here's where I got it from, but I use it all the fucking time.

The Psycho Ex-Girlfriend Chronicles Eleventh Entry

<--- Tenth Entry Getting dumped is like a blindside sack. You take the snap, feeling good about how the game is going. You drop back, liking how the play is unfolding. Your options are open, your protection is good, and everything is great. Then BAM!, you’re on you back. You never saw it coming. (sorry, watching Monday Night Football right now). I was at work when I got sacked. I got the text message that will forever be burned in my brain: I’m not happy anymore. That message was the beginning of the weirdest 25 days of my life. We had a fight that night. After the customary crying on her part, I offer to sleep in the spare bedroom. She laughs and insists on me not sleeping there at all. Something about needing ‘space’ or something. Whatever. I was homeless. We still saw each other every few days and we still had sex a few times. I saw her more often when her car was stolen and she needed me. Ironic. I was being used. She was very cold one day and warm the next. It was like some bi-polar condition that switched every 22.5 hours. She had turned into this small volcano of indecisiveness that erupted at random, unexpected intervals. First, the kicking me out was supposed to be for a few days, then it became day-to-day. Second, we ‘were not breaking up’, then she was ‘beginning to not like me’. It was all funny, but it wasn’t. I was her emotional punching bag. I'm not a pussy by any means, but I was a gaping vagina that month. Yes, gaping. Twelfth Entry --->

A short guide to common courtesy

It's been a while since the last time I gave you all a lesson on proper etiquette. Here is a new one. There are some unwritten rules in life that we all should abide by. These aren't things you could learn from your parents either. These are things that may be passed down from an older sibling, an older friend, or maybe just learned from life experience. Whatever the case, these are a few things you should already know, but probably don't. Always... ...tell your friend if you personally know who their girlfriend has been with. ...notify the party when there are less than five beers left. ...bring alcohol to a party that you are willing to leave. ...give someone a light if you have a lighter. ...assume the girl your friend is fucking is off-limits. ...insult someone infront of his girl. ...make sure your friends have a way home if you leave them. ...tell someone if you think something is a bad idea. ...pay on the first date. ...tip someone who is doing you a service. ...warn your friend if he's playing wingman for the night. ...drink the shot someone buys you, unless you rejected it beforehand. ...wish a friend a happy birthday, no matter how gay it sounds. ...assume you have to take off your shoes upon entering someone's home. Never... ...tell someone that their tattoo is horrible. ...tell a man his girlfriend is ugly. ...sing along with more than two songs in a row while with friends unless they join in. ...assume that the girl your friend is fucking is his girlfriend. ...sucker punch someone unless they are bigger than you. ...drunk dial a girlfriend. ...tease about an obvious flaw, unless its weight. ...retell a story if more than half of the group has already heard it, unless they were there. ...tell a friend that a girl is out of their league. ...change the radio station in someone else's car. ...assume you can grab a girl's ass anytime you want just because you did it when you danced. ...say something bad about your friend, no matter how true it is. ...call a man gay in front of his mother. ...wait for the other person to make the first move if you want sex. ...call someone when you have nothing to say. ...submit someone's phone number to telemarketers. The shit happens. ...say no to a free drink, unless you are staying completely sober.

Trust poster

Ever talked to your girlfriend/wife over the phone and wondered why she is always 'just finishing her workout'. Heavy breathing like that does not come from the treadmill or the stair-master. It comes from cunnilyngis and asthma sufferers. Your lady is not the angel you thought she was. Or she misplaced her inhaler.

New Word Sunday: Truther

Truther [chroo-thur] n. 1. Someone who always tells the truth. Analogy: Liar is to lie as truther is to truth. 2. An undiscovered, flammable gas (which I just made up) that burns twice as slow as ether. Example: I don't lie. I always tell the truth. I'm a truther.

The Psycho Ex-Girlfriend Chronicles Tenth Entry

<--- Ninth Entry Myth: Sharing a shower could be a nice, romantic moment. Washing your partner is a valuable bonding experience that every couple should do. It is sensual and it builds up your comfort level with each other. Plus, the sex is fun. Fact: Sharing a shower is an uncomfortable event. Washing you partner is fun at first, then you freeze your balls off in the back of the shower while she washes her hair for ten minutes. Sure, it saves money on you water bill, but that's the only plus. Sex could be fun, as long as you have a bath mat, some kind of lube that doesn't sud up, and you don't try to perform oral sex under the stream of water. I almost drowned once doing that. Plus, there was quite the height difference. I may be flexible, but I'm not a fucking gymnast. My girlfriend used to love taking showers with me. Its nice every once and a while, but not every fucking day. I tried to boycott it, but she threatened to boycott giving blowjobs, so I crossed the picket line even though she wasn't very good at it anyway. I got her one time though. Although, I really shouldn't have. I got home well before she did one day and I decided to enjoy a shower. Best. Shower. Ever. I didn't freeze. I didn't slip at all. I didn't even have to share the bathroom mirror afterwards. It was a wonderful occasion. You really take things like that for granted until you are unable to do it anymore. I was able to put on some pajama bottoms and free-ball it while I watched a good movie. The fun ended when she got home. Me- Hey baby. Her- Hi honey. Get off early? Me- Yeah. I didn't feel like being there any longer so I left. Her- I need a shower bad. Join me? Me- I already took one. Her- What?! Really? Without me? Why would you do that? Me- Sometimes I wanna take one by myself. That's all. Her- Is there something wrong? Why didn't you want to wait for me? Are you mad? I don't understand? Whah whah? Whah Wah Waaah? Every argument turned into an episode of Peanuts and I was always Linus. Me- Calm down. It was just a shower. Her- Is there someone else? That was a favorite of hers to pull out. Every time there's a break in our routine, there has to be another woman. Women wonder why I act so weird now. Blame her. Its all this bitch's fault. She ruined me for the rest of you. Late Edit: I came across this webpage full of crazy ex-gilrfriend voicemails. Funny shit. Eleventh Entry --->

Date Talk-to-English Translator

Men Women The pick up- “Would you like to go out some time?” → “I want to sleep with you.” “Sure. I’m not doing anything tomorrow.” → “I could see myself sleeping with you. I’m not doing anything tonight, but I want to seem busy. Tomorrow’s better” “Cool. I’ll call you then.” → “Thank God. I’ll call you after I think of something clever to say.” “How about we… …get a drink?” → …get drunk and fuck?” …hang out at my place and rent a movie?” → …not get drunk and still fuck?” …get something to eat?” → …get to know each other better, then fuck?” …catch a movie?” → …do the only thing I can think of to do, besides fucking?” …go dancing?” → …have 3 hours of foreplay, then fuck?” ...go to the park and have a picnic, maybe a little hike afterwards, and finally have a candlelit dinner under the stars?" →...go out of our way to show you how fuck-worthy I am?" (We're trying to fuck you would be the main bullet point here) Random conversation points- “So , what do you do?” → “How much money do you have?” “What do you do for fun?” → “This is boring. Will you always be this boring?” “Do you have to work in the morning?” → “You should stay over tonight.” “You have really pretty eyes.” → “I’m not staring at your tits” “You look great.” → “I’m not staring at your tits…honest!” “Tell me about yourself.” → “I want you to think I actually care.” “There are a lot of people here.” → “You caught me looking for anyone hotter than you.” “I have to get up early tomorrow.” "I'm tired." or "What time is it?" → “I’m not sleeping with you tonight.” “I’m starting to think we’re not fucking tonight.” End of the night- “Do you want to come in?” → “Sex. Now.” “Can I use your bathroom?” → “I wanna give you more time to think about sex.” “Do you blah blah blah blah blah?” → “Blah blah sex. Sex blah sex blah blah. Sex.” “What are you doing tomorrow?” → “I really like you.” “I’ll call you later.” → “I probably won’t call you.” “I would love to go out with you again.” → “I am considering sleeping with you.” “I’ll give it another try.”

Daddy's Little Girl poster

When I have a daughter (and God will curse me with one), she is going to an all-girls college. Oh, and why is it a good idea to put a picture of yourself like this on the internet? Really. I won't complain too much about it though. It did entertain me, and if that was the intent, they accomplished their job. One piece of advice: You are safer giving naked and/or drunk pictures to your boyfriend than you are giving them to your friends. Women don't stay friends long and they are fucking brutal. Case in point: I'm sure I've seen my fair share of pictures that were never to make the light of day because some chick was upset at her friend and not from an ex-boyfriend. I seize opportunity when it presents itself. Call me a seizer. I seize.

New Word Sunday: Cuntastic!

Another word that I use everyday. Cuntastic! [kunt-tastik-!] adj. -from the latin word 'cunt' 1. A word describing an event in which an unsavory woman does something, well, unsavory. 2. A sarcastic response to something unimpressive. 3. A backhanded congratulatory comment. See also: traileriffic, crabulous Example: You missed it. She made out with that guy right infront of her boyfriend. It was cuntastic!

The Psycho Ex-Girlfriend Chronicles Ninth Entry

<--- Eighth Entry Maybe I was naive. Maybe I had poor judgment. Maybe I was just stupid. Why else would I fall for someone who had some severe emotional issues? After almost two years of dating and four years of friendship, we finally started living together. I say 'finally' like this step was eagerly anticipated. It wasn't. She had already moved out on her own with plans of me going with her, but I bailed at the last minute. Then she nagged me to move in with her for a month or so before I caved and took the plunge. By far the biggest mistake of my life. No, the second biggest. The first would be me eating all those damn cucumbers when I was ten. It was bad. Living together made our fights more challenging since we really didn't have the power to 'go home' anymore. Something I did learn though was the old saying "Never go to bed mad." is complete and utter bullshit. If you are upset in the living room, you will be upset in the bedroom. Being naked in soft sheets does not make you less angry. Being naked in soft sheets just makes you horny. That's a problem when there's a naked human being next to you who has no intention of touching you for at least another 24 hours. After a fight one night over something that probably involved another woman or my ‘lack of love’ or something (those were always the hot topics of discussion), she started swimming in the deep end of the pool. Well, more so than usual in this case. She locked herself in the bathroom to begin with. A door lock has never stopped me before and it wasn’t going to that night. I picked the lock to find she had rigged the drawer to keep the door from opening more than an inch and a half. Now, if this was a normal girl and a normal relationship, I would have let her be and left the apartment. This particular woman has a tendency to attempt suicide from time to time and she proceeded to list aloud all the sharp things available in the bathroom. It was the only reason I was forcing myself in there. This was all a part of her ‘you don’t care about me’ routine. Whether it was a cry for help or a cry for attention, I had to treat each instance like it was the real deal. I threatened to break the door down before she finally came out. I should have left her in there. She flew right past me and into the bedroom where she commenced in trashing everything in there. Pictures, clothes, hangers, clock radios (we had two), and sheets were thrown about. Thank God (or whoever) she was smart enough to not pop the waterbed or spike the TV. She did, however, manage to put a very huge dent/crack in the closet door. I didn’t care. I wasn’t on the lease so it's not like I lost my deposit. I just let her go through the motions and get it out of her system so I can make her clean up when she’s done. If you’ve ever seen The Godfather, you’ll remember the scene where Connie completely trashes her and her husband’s home after finding out he’s been seeing another woman on the side. Yelling and screaming and breaking everything that was breakable. This was very similar to that scene, except I wasn't seeing another woman and I didn’t beat her with my belt like Carlo did. I did, however, end up having to wrestle her to the ground to save us a trip to the ER. She found an extension cord on the ground and wrapped it tightly around her neck. Oddly, this wasn’t the first time I’ve seen such a production, so I let her do it. I knew she was bluffing. I allowed it until she actually called my bluff and tightened the tension on her neck. I took her down as fast as possible without inducing an injury and I threw the cord across the room. I yelled at her until my voice was hoarse and she eventually calmed down, and then she began sobbing. After she closed the floodgates, I watched her clean up her mess while she repeatedly apologized for her psychotic episode. Fucking Psycho. Me- What the fuck is wrong with you! Why do you always do this! Her- (sobbing)Why do you act like you care? Me- I’m probably the only person on Earth that would ever put up with your shit. That little exchange of words was a frequent occurrence in our relationship. It's true what they say: Love is blind. Tenth Entry --->

"Well, the thing about facials is..."

I had a conversation with a female friend of mine the other night at the bar. She told me she didn't get the whole 'facial thing' that guys like to do. She went on to say how gross it was and how pointless it seems and she couldn't understand what's so great about it. I felt it was my duty as a man to break it down for her. I had a few drinks, but I'm sure this is pretty close to what I told her: "Guys have their thing and girls have their thing. Its different, but its the same. Its all about a mental stimulation because, honestly, it really doesn't feel any different if we cum in or on you or anywhere else. Its all mental. It lets us know that you care about pleasing us. Just think about me taking you out on a romantic night. We go to a nice restaurant and have a really great meal. Maybe your favorite. We possibly see a movie that you've been wanting to catch for over a week now. Afterwards we would take a quiet stroll along the waterfront and take in the scenery and the sea air while we hold hands. Real romantic shit, right? When we were done there, we would go to a hotel room or whatever and there would be candles fucking everywhere and rose petals on the bed and the whole nine. I would give you a massage and kiss you on your neck and your stomach and whisper things in your ear like how sexy you are and how turned on I am. It would be something you would absolutely love and you'd talk about it with your girlfriends for days to come. Then we'd have sex and at the end I might just bust all over your face. I did something for you that lasted several hours that I probably didn't care for and you did something for me that lasted 5 or so minutes, depending on how long it takes before you decide to clean up, that you really don't care for. Its all about pleasing each other. Even if it was as simple as me eating you out. I enjoy doing it because it's fun for me, but I don't get off on it. But I'm not doing it for me, I'm doing it for you. So don't be so fucking selfish." If I could go back in time, I would have also added this: "The same goes for swallowing. Its not like its human waste, excrement, or whatever. Its a byproduct of sex and it makes babies. Think about how we stick our tongue inside you. INSIDE you. There isn't anything else on Earth I stick my tongue inside other than maybe your mouth, and that's only if I like you. Then think about all the foul shit you swallow in a week's time. Like maybe blue cheese or black licorice or your mom's cooking. So what's the big fucking deal? Besides, worrying about where I can/can't shoot it can really ruin my orgasm. That's like telling you right before you 'go' to keep quiet because my grandmother is sleeping in the next room. You might as well tell me to hold it, run to the downstairs bathroom, and 'finish' while the toilet is flushing. That's not hot. Just do what he wants you to do, then make him lay in the wet spot in return if it makes you feel any better." Now I'm not saying women need to always take a shot off the grill or swallow babies every time she has sex. I'm not even saying she ever has to do it, ever. It's not a big deal and most of us couldn't really care less about it. It's pretty much a dominance thing anyway. Just be open to it. ...or if you're really kinky, ask for it.

School Spirit, Motherfuckaaaaaa...

"...Alpha step. Omega step. Kappa step. Sigma step. -------Gangstas walk. Pimps gone talk. Oooh, hecky naw, that boy is raw." -Kanye West I love that song. Anyway, I've never been one for school spirit. I never really saw the point. I could see maybe if I was on one of the sports teams or something. Or maybe if I held some kind of stock options or there was a little profit sharing going on. I really don't see any other valid reason. I'm befuddled (word of the day) at the thought. Me and my boys recently took a weekend vacation to a local university to see some friends. They're crazy about their football so we took in a game in between drinking binges. I've never experienced a college football game before. Didn't really know what to make of it. First of all, the students were insane, but in a good way. You couldn't help but to feel the energy these kids were giving off. This was probably the only fun thing they could do that didn't involve shots of bottom-shelf vodka. They were loud and rowdy and just having a hell of a time cheering on their friends and/or classmates. That spirit I can understand. You gotta support your friends. It looked like a lot of fun. Then you got the alumni. These fans graduated YEARS ago and still make the drive out to their alma mater about 8 times a year to see a bunch of kids play a game. They drive their overpriced RVs filled with their hundreds of dollars of team merchandise and/or apparel to sit in the bleachers for two hours just to drive all the way back home afterward. They're hardcore. Just under them are the townies. Most of the townies either never went to college or decided not to put their $120,000 degree to any use. Their economy thrives on the success/failure of the college teams, so I guess they almost have a duty to support and cheer for their team. Although naming all their businesses and dinner specials after the mascot is a bit much. Finally there are the visiting team's fans. Not the ones that live in state, but the ones from two or three states over. With their intricate outfits and creative hats and even tattoos. Ok, to be specific, namely this guy. You can't see it in this picture, but he has a tattoo on his right arm of a duck and a football in some tribal shit with the words "duck nut" underneath. Nut indeed. I saw him in person that weekend. I hope to God he actually went to that school. That would make it a little less stupid. I'm not calling him stupid. Everyone needs a hobby. Just the idea in general is stupid.

New Word Sunday: Hanging Floppers

I'm going to try something new. Call it "New Word Sunday". It doesn't have the same ring as "New Word Wednesday" but I really don't care. Every Sunday (if I can remember) I will put up a word that is commonly used in my vocabulary that others may not have in theirs. These words came mostly from my own imagination and some came from my friends. Keep in mind, these are words I actually use. Hanging Floppers [hang-eeng flah-purz ] n. 1. Breasts that are nice and big, but aren't all that perky. 2. When a D-cup is half-empty instead of half-full. 3. A flop that has yet to flop. Example: She definitely had some hanging floppers, but in that push-up, it seemed to work.

The Psycho Ex-Girlfriend Chronicles Eighth Entry

<--- Seventh Entry This is pretty much the halfway point of The Chronicles. Hope they've been entertaining so far. Since I've lived in Washington, I've only been to the coast once. That one time was with the ex-girlfriend I write about every week. She thought that it would be a great birthday present for me. My birthday is in December. We went in late-January. I got a late birthday present to the ocean in the middle of winter. Boy, am I lucky or what? Truth be told, it was a nice gesture and a decent little getaway. The town was pretty empty so we didn't have to share our vacation with anyone. The sex was great, which was usually a given (we had great chemistry). We didn't really leave the room at all the whole weekend due to all the rain and coldness and such. We ended up having a rare couple of days of just enjoying each other's company. It was nice. That all ended when my girlfriend noticed I had a voicemail on my phone after the last of many 'workouts'. Her- Did you know you had a voicemail? Me- Really? Could you check it for me? Maybe something's wrong at home. I had nothing to hide. Besides, I really wanted this shower. I guess you could say I wasn't much of a thinker back then. I hurried in the bathroom with hopes of starting my shower before she was done checking the message. I took entirely too long. Her- Who's ********? Oh. Fuck. Me- Who? Her- You heard me. Me- She was one of my neighbors. Why? Did she call? Her- The Mexican bitch or the White one? She kept tabs on my cute little neighbors. Me- The White one. Her- Why is she calling you and how the fuck did she get your number? Here come 'the fucks'. We were having such a nice weekend too. Me- She moved to California not too long ago. She's a nice girl, so I told her to stay in touch. Her- Why the fuck would you do that? Did you fuck her before she left or something? Me- No. What did she say? Her- She says she misses you and she loves you. What the fuck is going on? You fucked her, didn't you!? At this point, most girls begin crying just at the thought of their boyfriend cheating on them. The keyword in that sentence is 'most'. Her tears came from her hair. You might call it sweat. Besides, why would you say that on someone's voicemail who has a girlfriend? This is what I get for being too nice to these girls. Me- Maybe she had a thing for me. I can't control that. Her- Is *** even a fucking California area code? I don't like where this is going. Her- I'm fucking calling her. Me- She's in fucking California. Leave her alone. Her- No. I'ma find out what the fuck is going on. She calls her up on my phone. I decide to finally take my shower. Possibly my last shower while I'm still breathing. When I got out, I get a confused, but satisfied, look from my girlfriend. Oh shit. Her- I talked to her. Me- (starting to sweat) What did you say? Her- I told her that you're taken, and that you don't love her, and that she should never call you again. Me- You are a mean little girl. What did she say? Her- She said that you are two-faced and she hates you. Me- (sarcastic laughter) Nice. Her- Whatever. So you didn't fuck her? Me- I didn't fuck her. Her- Why don't I believe you? Me- Because you have severe trust issues, and I hate that about you. We eventually made up before the drive back. Thankfully. That would have been a long and awkward ride back. Instead, it was just long. Ending fuck count: Me- 2 Her- 9 She always beat me in the cursing department. I found this the other day. I'm glad we never owned a dog. Ninth Entry --->

Answers to FAQ's

A few things about my page that have been asked. I'm calling this "Answers To Frequently Asked Questions". First of all, my page is better viewed on IE 5.5 and above. You should have both Firefox and Internet Explorer anyway. I do. The 'Internet Explorer' link beneath the ads on the left side of the page will take you to the IE 7 download page. I've been using it for over a year (beta until recently) and I love it. It's tons better than Firefox. Actually, it may be a rip-off of Firefox, but whatever. Above that are three ads which don't need explaining. Except for the fact that I benefit from them a little. Its not just going to those billionaire Google guys. Above my lead post is a Google search box. Same as above, except you can use that to search the web or my site if ya wanna. You'd be amazed at the amount of my posts that have the word 'blowjob' or 'drunk' in it. At the bottom of each page, there are five things to take notice of. There is a small banner where you can sign up to get email updates for my site. I update 3-4 times a week, so if you don't use your email often, this is not for you. If you check it numerous times a day like I do, maybe its for you. Under that is a button to make this blog one of your favorites on Technorati. If you don't know what that is, don't click on it. Under that is an 'Add To Any' button for your feed reader. If you know anything about RSS feeds or Google/Yahoo homepage modules, click on it. If not, don't worry about it. On the top of the right side are two links for my 'Foundations'. If you click on 'College Fund' there is a blog post explaining them. All in good fun. Most of the links on the right side are just links to prior posts, but they're grouped for easier finding. A section for my Psycho Ex stories, Lessons of Etiquette, Demotivational posters, and my Classic Posts. The only links that are not to older blogs are the ones under the title 'Sites I Visit' which I'll explain: First: T-Shirt Hell If you've never been to this T-shirt site, you must be Amish or something. They are insane. Literally. I bought one (Everyone Loves A Slutty Girl), so did my ex-girlfriend (one for her and the hubby). They also have ridiculous shirts for babies and offensive Christmas wrapping paper. Click it. Buy shit. You'll be the hit of the bar/party or something. You may even make Grandma wet herself...again. Second: GorillaMask.net Same as above. If you've never been here, you suck. Monday through Friday, this site is updated with random findings on the Web. Whether it be naked celebrities, viral videos, interesting info, or whatever. Go there, you'll love it. They are one of the sites that broke the Paris Hilton cellphone leak a while back. They have a great forum there too. I'm a member and I'm there almost everyday. Also for the locals, the owner went to WSU a few years ago. Third: Medium Entertainment Seattle resident. This guy posts every bit of news pertaining to anything Gaming related. As in Nintendo, PS3, Xbox 360, and so on. As well as TV, movies and what have you. BIG Scrubs (TV show) fan. Fourth: Land Of The Breastasaurus Her site is GRAND. I just came upon it recently. Humorous, no-holds-barred, things about her life and the things she finds funny. I like reading up on it every day or so to see what she's doing. Its good shit. Check it out Fifth: Tucker Max Whether people say he's fake or not, his stories are un-fucking-believable. Just think of mine, but actually funny. Make sure to check out the Buttsex story and the Breathalyzer story. Sixth: Mark Cuban's blog Mark Cuban is the owner of the Dallas Mavericks (if you didn't already know). His site, Blog Maverick, is full of usefull business and technology information. He is a really smart guy. His blogs get real good during the NBA season when he rants about the officials. Seventh: My other writings Last, but not least, is some other shit I have up. Call it me getting my 'emo' on. I’m taking advantage of the freeness (real word) of Blogger by posting my once book-bound collection of writings on the Internet. I still may try to publish it though. It’s just that it’s awfully time consuming and costly to do it myself, which far outweighs the small sense of accomplishment I would feel. In the end, I just want my stuff read. Two of these poems (The Rose and Fate) have been published in two books before, now I want to release the rest. I’ve had this stuff in a box for years now, with the exception of a couple new ones, and I just wanted to put it out there for the public. Maybe someone with publishing pull will see it. Maybe an ex-girlfriend will come across it. Maybe it’ll just sit there and collect cyber-dust (which is actually hard to clean), only to resurface after I die in my tragic car crash six years from now (Miss Cleo told me so...at a Burger King) and be plagerized in a horrible song by the Dixie Chicks. I wrote them when I was a teenager, roughly 15-19. I got better with age and even better during/after my relationships. I still suck though. I pretty much went off inspiration at first. Life, then, was eventful and filled with drama and never boring, so it makes for good material. Then, when life got monotonous, it became my alternative to sleeping in class during my stint in ‘higher education’. I got by in some English classes by what I wrote in my Calculus class. Maybe I should have paid attention to my Calculus instructor, seeing that my Math credit was more important. Oh well, fuck it. Like I care. Now, life is boring. So the newness of most of these is missing. Something about paying bills and working 40-50 hours a week seem to take the excitement out of life. I bet if I quit my job and became poor, life would be more entertaining. Anyway, there they are. Corny, mushy, creative, unoriginal, tear jerking, pure genius, vomit inducing, laughable, sensitive, stupid, smart, or whatever else will be going through your mind, I could care less. At least you read it. There, now stop asking questions. Wait no, keep asking. I field'em all, bitches!