Category Archives: Humor

Vices (A Conversation With a Friend)

“I need a fucking drink.”
“I need a fucking drink, too.”
“Yeah? If I was there, we’d go have one together. I need somebody to talk and drink with.”
“You’d have a partner in me. I love to have a social cocktail every now and again.”
“If by every now and again, you mean you’re a degenerate alcoholic like me that’s already drinking at 4:00 in the afternoon, count me as a friend. I should have gone to Nevada to hit the craps tables. Guess it’s not too late. Only a 45-minute drive…”
“Hell, I’d go if it was only 45 minutes away. And no, I seriously drink socially and that’s it.”
“Oh. I drink to take the pain away. Does that make me an alcoholic? Only if I admit it, right?”
“I write to take the pain away. Does that make me a writer? Only if I admit it, right?”
“Can one have multiple addictions at the same time? Answer: no. So you’re a writer with other vices. I’m an alcoholic who happens to write as a vice. I just wish my other vice wasn’t sex. I’m often disappointed and still have to practice ‘self-reliance’ on a regular basis.”

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Halloween Hangover (Through Eyes of Today’s Kid)

Welp, this year I misjudged the amount of candy I would need. Turns out, I should have brought two oversized king pillow cases. Then again, I came across a lot of cheap asses who only bought one bag of candy that was gone by the time I got there and the ones who got stingy because my handful is bigger than the average kid’s.

Slap my hand again bitch. I dare you.

Some people have some pretty crappy ideas on what’s ok to hand out on Halloween. For instance, candy corn. Yeah, it gets a bad rap… For good reson. Really, what is candy corn but yellow, orange and white colored sugar. Why don’t you just give me your diabetes. Or better yet, give me some Sweet N’ Low so I can get cancer.

And the fresh fruit people kill me. Yeah, I really want some fucking fruit my mom puts in my lunchbox for school.

A fucking coupon booklet? I’m 6 not 65.

A pack of pencils. Fuck off, Poindexter.

Somebody gave me a slice of American cheese. You know that processed shit that’s barely better than velveeta? Ok, it’s not actually better.

To the lady that gave me a penny taped to a religious card, here’s my thoughts (for your penny): a cent doesn’t go as far as it did when you were a kid. In fact, a penny can’t even buy me a piece of candy nowadays that your cheap ass was too “frugal” to buy.

Anything that doesn’t come in a wrapper. Keep it. I don’t want it. You wasted your money because it’s going in the trash. Mom is strict about this. And you just fucked up my Halloween because it’s going to be a week before I can even eat any of the shit I got. Thanks, ass hole.

One old couple even handed out pint-sized milk cartons like the ones you get in the school cafeteria. How do you like those broken windows you cheap bastards?! Have fun cleaning the spoiled milk stench in your house! Ok, I’m sorry Grandma, but like you always told me: Don’t cry over spilled milk.

And then there was the guy handing out a travel pack of Kleenex. Really, dude?! The least you could do is hand out free condoms. Next year, I’m skipping his house and going straight to Planned Parenthood. I hear the girls there are easy. Two birds, one stone. Actually, now that I think of it, that’s three birds, one stone — if need be. Gotta love Planned Parenthood.

I guess it wasn’t so bad. No razor blades in my caramel apples. At least it was a lesson learned for when I grow up not to be such a douche on Halloween.

P.S. – To the lady giving out D batteries, you probably should have saved them for your vibe.

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I Don’t Have A Drinking Problem, I Have A ‘You’ Problem

I have been struggling with an addiction for a while now. Internet porn. That’s actually not why I wanted to write this.

I wanted to write about how infuriating people’s judgments can be, particularly regarding drinking.

There’s a saying among alcoholics: One is too many and a thousand is never enough.

Thank God I’m not an alcoholic because I couldn’t stand not being able to drink. They say the first step is admitting you have a problem. Nobody ever said what the next step was.

You see, my friends all thought that I had a problem. “You get drunk all the time,” they said. Things like: “Do you have to drink so early?”, “Slow down and save some for everybody else”, “Somebody cut him off”, “I’m not cleaning the toilet after him” and other judgmental things. They even told me once, “You know we’re friends and a friendship is like a team but when you drink, you get very selfish. There is no I in team. Please stop.”

So I did what any self-respecting person would do: I told them, “You’re right. There is no I in team. But there is a you in fuck you.” And I got new friends because the fact is, I don’t get drunk, I get awesome!

I also gave myself to the Lord, Jesus Christ. It was comforting to know He accepts me for who I am. After all, He turned water into wine. True story. That tells me He has no qualms about my drinking.

The funny thing was, though, that I gave myself to Jesus but now He never calls. Or was it a priest dressed in a robe and long beard? I couldn’t tell, I was wasted.

Eh, oh well. I’ve found the fountain of youth anyway. Coincidentally, it looks and smells a lot like liquor. Happy birthday, me! Let’s celebrate! Grab a glass and fill your hand, you son of a bitch!

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Dust to Dust

So I was thinking one day, “What songs would I want played at my funeral?”

Morbid? Maybe a little. It’s never too early to think about, though. And death fascinates me. Not in the creepy obsessive way (or worse), but in the introspective, thought-provoking way.

As in, “What really happens?”

Well I’ll only know once it happens and, sorry to say, I probably won’t be able to tell y’all. You’ll just have to find out for yourself.

I only have a few requests for my funeral:
1. Give all my serviceable organs to those who truly need them. They may be few and far between but I know somebody can use something of mine.
2. Make it as cheap as possible. Which most likely means cremation. Seriously, my body will be dead. Gone. What’s more morbid than keeping that around?
3. Laugh, damnit! And have a feast. I’ll leave my recipe book.
4. Only those who want to be there should be there. No guilting anybody into going. No forcing someone to go. That’s even more morbid than thinking about your own funeral songs.
5. Play these songs:

Louis Armstrong “What a Wonderful World”

Marvin Sapp “In The Garden”

Nat King Cole “Stardust”

And of course, this timeless classic:

I’ll have you know that the phrase “another one bites the dust” is actually taken from the Bible. You don’t believe me? Check out Psalm 72:9 – They that dwell in the wilderness shall bow before him; and his enemies shall lick the dust.

Just please do me a favor and don’t play the video of Freddie Mercury prancing around in his underpants. The song is good. The video is not. Not the last image I want people to remember me by.

However, this is something to remember me by:

That’s right, fill your hands, you sons of bitches! Then lick my dust and kiss my ash.

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Fill Your Hand, You Son Of A Bitch!

Now that it’s the new year, I figured I could share my New Year’s resolution with everybody. I’ve had to update it several times since.

Her response: "Absolutely! I love the starving artist types!" That's my future ex-wife right there.

Initially, my resolution was to date more models.

Update 1: Date more.

Update 2: Get a date.

Update 3 (final update): Stop crying while masturbating. Growing up Catholic did a number on my sex life. Even when I’m flying solo.

Oh, Rosario Dawson, if you only knew how much I think about you, you wouldn’t be playing so hard to get. Marry me, Rosario?

This was me last time I heard about Rosario with another man:

Unfortunately, I’d fill my hand but it’s already full. Okay, maybe that was a bit much. Now I’m kind of embarrassed.

You know what’s really embarrassing? When you click on a link and it posts to your facebook wall. Well, that in itself isn’t embarrassing. What’s embarrassing is when the link is sexually oriented.

Funny how the delete button is so foreign to some people on facebook.

Ooops. In his defense, the original picture was of a hot woman but later changed to a shirtless guy in boxers.

So, I just bought this new DVD. It’s called “Hot and Horny Housewives #3”. I’m wondering if I’ll still understand what’s going on if I haven’t seen #1 and 2.

Speaking of movies,  I just saw “War Horse” the other day… Wow! Sarah Jessica Parker turned in the performance of a lifetime, although I think she was a bit typecast.

The director went with minimal makeup, saying, "It was necessary just to bring a certain likeability to the title character."

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A New Year’s Letter

To whomever it may concern:

If you’re reading this, Happy New Year 2012!

Tonight is the night where you get together with people you can sing “Auld Lang Syne” with arm in arm and shoulder to shoulder while drunk and not feel awkward around the next day.

Or maybe you just hum the tune since you don’t actually know the words to the song. That’s okay, too. I’m not sure anybody really knows it, so don’t feel bad.

Enjoy a kiss with a loved one. Or perhaps a perfect stranger. This is the only day it’s somewhat acceptable to kiss a stranger and not get slapped. Take advantage of it.

As the clock ticks down and restarts a whole new year, cherish it. Eat, drink, be merry. Celebrate the passing of a year and the beginning of a new one like it’s your last.

The best is yet to come.

The Mayans

P.S. – Mark this date on your calendar: December 21st, 2012.

-Officially decoded Mayan message

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Happy Birthday, Hung Jesus!

Today is Jesus’ brithday. So I contemplated and meditated a lot about today.

And I started thinking that Jesus is the Son of God, right? Which means that He was very “well endowed” to begin with. And that explains a lot. A 33 year-old virgin (because all the ladies say He’s “too beaucoup”) who was always getting his feet washed.

Gott a love Sunday School art.

I’m just trying to connect the dots. Don’t judge me. Only God can do that. And I know he has a sense of humor.

Happy birthday, hung Jesus!

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