During the summer, me, my friend, and his girlfriend shared an apartment. Living with them was extremely awkward. I’ve been single my entire life, but their presence was a horrible constant reminder of it. I’d be watching a show and they’d be making out nearby. It’s especially sad when we eat. We all agreed at the start that we would all get our own food. However, it was more like I get my own food while my friend and his girlfriend cook food for each other. If anybody walked in it would have been a very pathetic sight to see a couple laughing and eating homemade curry together while I’m sitting by myself eating instant noodles and watching some cartoons. It was pretty bad sharing a bathroom with them since there was only one for the three of us. I think it’s cute for them to take a shower together, but God damn it! The lone guy needs to take a leak and it didn’t seem like they plan to leave the bathroom anytime soon.
It’s also pretty bad when her parents come by to visit and deliver some supplies. Now I’ve seen those movies where the parents interview the boyfriend, but I didn’t know it applies to housemates too. Somewhere along the line I got asked how come I didn’t have a girlfriend. I didn’t want to say that women intimidate me, so I tried to play it cool by saying I wasn’t interested in romance. Unfortunately, this was the wrong answer because the mom then proceeds to ask me if I’m gay….after thinking about this for a while, I don’t think there was a right or wrong answer to that ‘cause by the end of the day they’re probably still wondering if I’m having a threesome with them.
Then there was the night life. Every now and then I’d wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of the wall thumping. On nights like those I just end up sighing and looking at my hand, “Well looks like it’s just you and me.” I live in the apartments on campus now, so I don’t have to deal with that anymore, but sometimes I wake up at night with the sound of thumping from my housemate’s room next door.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Two different expectations of Santa Barbara by David Leavitt
The Innocent Side:
So this weekend I’ve decided to join the circus and go to Santa Barbara for Halloween, and as much as I am excited about it, I’m not expecting anything to crazy. I think I will be able to handle myself well, because I’m not to much of a trouble-maker. Some people talk about Santa Barbara as if it’s some mythical place where every possible scenario involving unprotected intercourse, waking up in somewhere that you’re not familiar with, and excessive amounts of drinking comes true. I simply just don’t believe that this happens on a daily basis there, and there is no way in heck that I’m looking to get into any of those things in Santa Barbara if they do exist. I’m just looking to have a good time with my friends and wear a costume.
The Bad Side:
So this weekend I’ve decided to join the circus and go to Santa Barbara for Halloween and I gotta admit, I’m expecting big things. Santa Barbara has a pretty big reputation for being a crazy party school where crazy shit goes down, and I fully expect and embrace all the crazy shit that could happen to me this weekend. I mean I’m going all out man, I don’t give a fuck who I fuck, if I fuck them without practicing unprotected fucking, or if I’m fucking and I don’t remember it. But really, when it all comes down to it, I want to look back at my Halloween weekend at Santa Barbara as if it can never be topped by any other trip I take in my life, as if it was one of the dudes in The Hangover. Lets just put it this way, If I don’t wake up the day after Halloween in a small red wagon, in a house located at least three states east of California, with eight new tattoos all located near and around my ass, holding onto the hand of my new mail-order bride from Thailand, while surrounded by goats, chickens and other farm animals, I’m gonna call this weekend a disappointment. Plain and simple.
So this weekend I’ve decided to join the circus and go to Santa Barbara for Halloween, and as much as I am excited about it, I’m not expecting anything to crazy. I think I will be able to handle myself well, because I’m not to much of a trouble-maker. Some people talk about Santa Barbara as if it’s some mythical place where every possible scenario involving unprotected intercourse, waking up in somewhere that you’re not familiar with, and excessive amounts of drinking comes true. I simply just don’t believe that this happens on a daily basis there, and there is no way in heck that I’m looking to get into any of those things in Santa Barbara if they do exist. I’m just looking to have a good time with my friends and wear a costume.
The Bad Side:
So this weekend I’ve decided to join the circus and go to Santa Barbara for Halloween and I gotta admit, I’m expecting big things. Santa Barbara has a pretty big reputation for being a crazy party school where crazy shit goes down, and I fully expect and embrace all the crazy shit that could happen to me this weekend. I mean I’m going all out man, I don’t give a fuck who I fuck, if I fuck them without practicing unprotected fucking, or if I’m fucking and I don’t remember it. But really, when it all comes down to it, I want to look back at my Halloween weekend at Santa Barbara as if it can never be topped by any other trip I take in my life, as if it was one of the dudes in The Hangover. Lets just put it this way, If I don’t wake up the day after Halloween in a small red wagon, in a house located at least three states east of California, with eight new tattoos all located near and around my ass, holding onto the hand of my new mail-order bride from Thailand, while surrounded by goats, chickens and other farm animals, I’m gonna call this weekend a disappointment. Plain and simple.
Fire
Some uninviting rich bitch has her friends and us older kids over to her pacific heights mansion. Everybody’s looking at everybody else. Except me. I’m in the basement looking at her dad’s wine and Bentley collection. Choose two bottles. Worth more than everything i’ve bought in the last 6 years. I get some friends to help pass around the bottles. We find some eyeliner and rock shots on her bathroom mirror. Many slurry, smokey, stumbling hours later. It just the troopers sticking it out upstairs, in the back, and in the bedrooms. Laura comes tearing down the stairs. There is a fire. Get out. Fuck off. Call 911 She’s serious. .I hear exploding glass. Twisting through the house to the front door, I get lost. Find the kitchen. Grab an onion. Fire crew flooding the house, breaking almost all the windows for giggles. I get outside. Flames leaping up and out of the windows. The girl whose parents own the house is mumbling about her parents italian vacation between vomiting and crying on her warm front lawn at two thirty five a.m. with the two guys still trying to serve it with her on each of her sides. One and a half million dollars in window, fire, and water damage while here parents were in italy. She’s disowned for a month or so. It was my good friend’s improperly extinguished cigarette that lit her top story ablaze. I saw a coyote in the middle of California and Divisidero on the walk home. Mischief in the flesh and fur.
ps problem's logging in until now
ps problem's logging in until now
Blog 2! Julia Yeager
So I was pretty bummed that the third assignment was political comedy. Of course! I was excited to start talking about President Bush and the economy, but then I remembered, rape is a topic we can’t talk about…
In lighter news, Halloween is comin! That means the sluts are coming out of hiding. Is it just me, or, is Halloween an excuse for everyone to dress like a slut?! I can already see this happening. I’m gonna see three girls wearing the same thing. A short dress, and wings. I’ll politely ask them, “What are YOU supposed to be?” One of them will say, “I’m a lady bug!” the other one will say “I’M a bumble bee!” and this last one will probably just confess. “WE’RE SLUTS! Haha”. Later on, I will see these girls at the party, and they will play stupid, asking “Oh my Gaaawd, I can’t open my beer! Could a big strong man, like, do that for me? Oh my GAAAAaaaaaaaaawwwwwwddduh!” I am completely sickened by today’s society. Girls tend to think dumb is sexy. But I’m sorry, if you can’t open a beer bottle, no man will have you. What good is a woman who looks good, but doesn’t have the brain capacity to open a bottle?!
Now, another thing about Halloween, is that you have to deal with kids. I don’t mean to be mean or anything, but some kids are ASSHOLES!! Last year on Halloween, I handed this kid a fun sized Butterfinger. I mean, come on… it was BUTTERFINGER! This shit is as good as gold in the eyes of most children, But no. This is what he says. “Oh… BUTTERfinger???! These are so bad for you-” This kid is dressed in one of those air operated fat suited ballerina costumes. And HE is telling ME, that butterfingers are unhealthy. I took the butterfinger and calmly told him, “Well great! More for me then, FATASS!” I then ate it in front of his face, and closed the door as his parents headed towards my door… Needless to say, I will not be handing out candy this year.
In lighter news, Halloween is comin! That means the sluts are coming out of hiding. Is it just me, or, is Halloween an excuse for everyone to dress like a slut?! I can already see this happening. I’m gonna see three girls wearing the same thing. A short dress, and wings. I’ll politely ask them, “What are YOU supposed to be?” One of them will say, “I’m a lady bug!” the other one will say “I’M a bumble bee!” and this last one will probably just confess. “WE’RE SLUTS! Haha”. Later on, I will see these girls at the party, and they will play stupid, asking “Oh my Gaaawd, I can’t open my beer! Could a big strong man, like, do that for me? Oh my GAAAAaaaaaaaaawwwwwwddduh!” I am completely sickened by today’s society. Girls tend to think dumb is sexy. But I’m sorry, if you can’t open a beer bottle, no man will have you. What good is a woman who looks good, but doesn’t have the brain capacity to open a bottle?!
Now, another thing about Halloween, is that you have to deal with kids. I don’t mean to be mean or anything, but some kids are ASSHOLES!! Last year on Halloween, I handed this kid a fun sized Butterfinger. I mean, come on… it was BUTTERFINGER! This shit is as good as gold in the eyes of most children, But no. This is what he says. “Oh… BUTTERfinger???! These are so bad for you-” This kid is dressed in one of those air operated fat suited ballerina costumes. And HE is telling ME, that butterfingers are unhealthy. I took the butterfinger and calmly told him, “Well great! More for me then, FATASS!” I then ate it in front of his face, and closed the door as his parents headed towards my door… Needless to say, I will not be handing out candy this year.
Byron McGoverns Blog #2
Byron McGovern
W1158389
Theatre 80E
Prof. Holsclaw
UCSC
The Dangers of Facebook
Comedy Web Log Number Two
I have a problem. I used to be embarrassed it about it but I recently learned this disease affects 5 of 6 college students throughout America. The disease is addiction. But not to some easy-to-kick habit like Crack or Heroin, I’m talking about addiction to Facebook. It starts off slow, a status update here, post a Youtube video there, but before you know it, you’re off the deep end and you’re drowning.
When I wake up in the morning, I check my Facebook before I breathe. I need to update my status constantly, or else my close (and distant) friends wont know exactly what I’m doing at that moment in time! I suppose I could get out of bed before I log on, but I’d lose precious seconds that I need to comment on peoples photos and write on their walls.
I’ve started taking a digital camera with me everywhere I go, so that I can chronicle my entire life. I have 3,000 Pictures of Me on Facebook, and you can see my arm reaching out holding the camera in every one of them! I also take the time to carefully tag everybody who’s in the picture with me. It takes a long time, but I’m sure they appreciate it.
And since I got an iPhone, I can be on Facebook no matter where I am! At dinner, in a movie theatre, taking a deuce, on a date, anywhere! Class is the big one; now that I can be logged on in class my attendance is perfect. I don’t even take notes anymore, I just write a Facebook note to all my friends in the class.
Pretty soon, I wont have to talk to anybody anymore! I'll be able to just send them a Facebook message. That way, I wont need to develop any social skills during my High School and college years, because Ill be able to do everything through Facebook!
W1158389
Theatre 80E
Prof. Holsclaw
UCSC
The Dangers of Facebook
Comedy Web Log Number Two
I have a problem. I used to be embarrassed it about it but I recently learned this disease affects 5 of 6 college students throughout America. The disease is addiction. But not to some easy-to-kick habit like Crack or Heroin, I’m talking about addiction to Facebook. It starts off slow, a status update here, post a Youtube video there, but before you know it, you’re off the deep end and you’re drowning.
When I wake up in the morning, I check my Facebook before I breathe. I need to update my status constantly, or else my close (and distant) friends wont know exactly what I’m doing at that moment in time! I suppose I could get out of bed before I log on, but I’d lose precious seconds that I need to comment on peoples photos and write on their walls.
I’ve started taking a digital camera with me everywhere I go, so that I can chronicle my entire life. I have 3,000 Pictures of Me on Facebook, and you can see my arm reaching out holding the camera in every one of them! I also take the time to carefully tag everybody who’s in the picture with me. It takes a long time, but I’m sure they appreciate it.
And since I got an iPhone, I can be on Facebook no matter where I am! At dinner, in a movie theatre, taking a deuce, on a date, anywhere! Class is the big one; now that I can be logged on in class my attendance is perfect. I don’t even take notes anymore, I just write a Facebook note to all my friends in the class.
Pretty soon, I wont have to talk to anybody anymore! I'll be able to just send them a Facebook message. That way, I wont need to develop any social skills during my High School and college years, because Ill be able to do everything through Facebook!
Today's word with Will Poulin.
Folks, I’m here to talk to you about courage. The courage to get up in the morning every day, stare the whole goddamn world in the face and say “Fuck You.” This is a quiet courage (except for the fuck you screaming. That can get loud) the kind keeps you going after a long day of work, and keeps you from just shriveling up and dying like the little bitch your stepfather thinks you are. Just get up and keep going. Got a headache? SO WHAT?. It’s school, you don’t need your head anyway. Got a head wound? IDEAL.
These are only some examples of courage. You may hear other people calling it by names like guts, sangfroid, nerve, audacity, or stones. Regardless of the words we use to describe it, courage is best recognized as action taken despite the full knowledge that whatever you are about to do is going to suck so hard it might rip your prostate out through your ears, but you do it anyway because you need to, someone else needs you to, or because FUCK YOU THAT'S WHY. Here to help me explain the concept of courage with some examples and helpful visuals is my friend, mentor, spiritual advisor, and all twelve of my top friends on myspace; Courage Wolf.
Hey Courage Wolf, how’s it going?
That’s great. How have you been? Been reading the news? How about that Balloon Boy story? Wild, huh?
Ah, I see. You’ve clearly had some crazy childhood experiences too. In case there are any children reading this, and god knows why they would do that, are there any words of wisdom you’d like to leave them with about being courageous?
Fantastic. Closing thoughts?
You’re my hero. Thanks for tuning in everyone and remember: Seize the day. By the throat.
These are only some examples of courage. You may hear other people calling it by names like guts, sangfroid, nerve, audacity, or stones. Regardless of the words we use to describe it, courage is best recognized as action taken despite the full knowledge that whatever you are about to do is going to suck so hard it might rip your prostate out through your ears, but you do it anyway because you need to, someone else needs you to, or because FUCK YOU THAT'S WHY. Here to help me explain the concept of courage with some examples and helpful visuals is my friend, mentor, spiritual advisor, and all twelve of my top friends on myspace; Courage Wolf.
Hey Courage Wolf, how’s it going?
That’s great. How have you been? Been reading the news? How about that Balloon Boy story? Wild, huh?
Ah, I see. You’ve clearly had some crazy childhood experiences too. In case there are any children reading this, and god knows why they would do that, are there any words of wisdom you’d like to leave them with about being courageous?
Fantastic. Closing thoughts?
You’re my hero. Thanks for tuning in everyone and remember: Seize the day. By the throat.
Relationships Gary Dominguez (Blog #2)
So relationships suck… I mean how many things in life do you do over and over and over again, knowing its probably going to fail anyways, just for the hope of getting that one out of a million shot. Well I mean I guess that’s what the raiders do every time they step on a football team trying to win a game.
Tell me this, what is the difference between having sex with your girlfriend and having sex with a prostitute. Other than the fact that you don’t know where your girlfriend has been and you do know where the prostitute has been – 2nd street every Friday. Either way you are paying for sex. Think about it, you have to spend time with your girlfriend all the time, buy her food, pay for her whenever you go out, buy her presents, and you still get bitched at all the time. However, with a prostitute you can probably same some money, pay for the sex, and be out of there. You don’t have to deal with any of the drama of a relationship. It’s a win win for both parties. So, to recap, relationships suck, and prostitutes are way better.
Tell me this, what is the difference between having sex with your girlfriend and having sex with a prostitute. Other than the fact that you don’t know where your girlfriend has been and you do know where the prostitute has been – 2nd street every Friday. Either way you are paying for sex. Think about it, you have to spend time with your girlfriend all the time, buy her food, pay for her whenever you go out, buy her presents, and you still get bitched at all the time. However, with a prostitute you can probably same some money, pay for the sex, and be out of there. You don’t have to deal with any of the drama of a relationship. It’s a win win for both parties. So, to recap, relationships suck, and prostitutes are way better.
Chris Hoshino-Fish & The Hut
So I live with 5 other guys. It's disgusting. No bullshit, no excuses, no covering up the layers and layers of shitty beer on the linoleum, no pretending that the stack of dishes in and around the sink isn't rapidly turning into a breeding ground for swine flu, and certainly no lying that I don't give a fuck. It's insane, like, I think “Man, you live here. You should clean up” and then I smoke some weed and jack off instead. Priorities dude, priorities.
And shit just keeps happening to our house that we're not expecting. One day we wake up to find two mexicans tearing down the front supports of our house. Naturally, I ran out with my shotgun and demanded to know what the fuck was going on. They calmed me down, however, with their soft latino accents and showed me the live termites devouring the supports. The supports to my room. Thank you, responsible landlord. Two days later, some creepy guy in a suit came snooping around our house. He was white, so I left the shotgun inside, which in retrospect wasn't a good idea. This suited up yuppy was here to explain that unless we got a work permit for the termite execution taking place, me and my roommates would be kicked out. What the fuck is that? You let a couple mexicans come up, take care of some termites and shitty wood, and the man tells you its time to vacate. Hell no. I bought that shottie for a reason.
Anyway, the work permit was acquired, but now the mexicans have disappeared. The supports are kinda finished, but I've still been sleeping downstairs. In the living room. In the cold. With the shotgun. Don't fuck with Texas.
And shit just keeps happening to our house that we're not expecting. One day we wake up to find two mexicans tearing down the front supports of our house. Naturally, I ran out with my shotgun and demanded to know what the fuck was going on. They calmed me down, however, with their soft latino accents and showed me the live termites devouring the supports. The supports to my room. Thank you, responsible landlord. Two days later, some creepy guy in a suit came snooping around our house. He was white, so I left the shotgun inside, which in retrospect wasn't a good idea. This suited up yuppy was here to explain that unless we got a work permit for the termite execution taking place, me and my roommates would be kicked out. What the fuck is that? You let a couple mexicans come up, take care of some termites and shitty wood, and the man tells you its time to vacate. Hell no. I bought that shottie for a reason.
Anyway, the work permit was acquired, but now the mexicans have disappeared. The supports are kinda finished, but I've still been sleeping downstairs. In the living room. In the cold. With the shotgun. Don't fuck with Texas.
Amir Raad. Comedy Blog #2
Godamnit everyone’s obsessed with Obama. I was hooking up with this girl and I finally made it to her undies and what do I see staring right at me, Obama with a smirk and the slogan of hope. Apparently my hope paid off, but really what’s the fucking deal. Yes he is a black president but what took so fucking long. People think were passed racism because we have a black president. That’s not a good thing because racism is hella institutionalized. I'm a conspiracy theorist skeptical of a lot of things, did Oswald kill Kennedy? Was 9-11 an inside job? Did I get probed three weeks ago? But now I have a new conspiracy theory, OBAMA IS WHITE, like MJ but reversed they injected his ass and dyed his skin brown. In case you have forgotten there have been previous instances of blacks in the white house. I think Condoleezza Rice is white two, the blackest thing about Condy is that giant mole on her face, come on bitch get that shit removed you in the white house now. Colin Powell had some balls he said fuck this idiot and peaced. I don’t know if I am being racist but usually people of professional swagger don’t fist bump the vice president when he’s bout to hit the stage. People in general don’t fist bump there wives. What the fuck Obama? I mean fox news is retarded for saying is that “terrorist” fist bump, but for real what impression are you trying to give off. Similar to Obama, stereotypes are being perpetuated. This is a very small example but I was at trader Joes and I notice on the different cuisines instead of having a the normal Trader Joes logo it varies like, Trade Jose’s, Trader Giottos---which are fine a variation of the word Joe in different languages, but than I see Trader Ming. What the fuck America? Get real.
Partying in Santa Cruz County (Timothy Irvine, blog 2)
So, who wants to hear a funny story?
Last night I was having sex with my girlfriend…haha, like I have a girlfriend!
No, but really, last night I was having sex with this sexy young thing (a 30-year-old Cabrillo student with a shaved head) and right in the middle of it (so, one minute in), she starts screaming: “Oh my god! Not you, Roger!”
Clearly, my name is not Roger, or else I would have been somewhat okay with that (ignoring the fact that she said “Not you”). What bothered me more, though, than the fact that apparently she had mistaken me for some former boyfriend as she apparently had an acid flashback while apparently NOT enjoying the awesome sex (if you’re a virgin freshman in high school) I was gifting to her (seriously, the condom felt like goddamn gift wrap), was that I realized she had somehow interpreted the Jolly Roger tattoo on my shoulder as her old boyfriend. So, realizing that I was copulating with one the stupidest (or is that hottest?) girls I had ever hooked up with at a party (okay, a five person tailgate kegger by Seacliff beach), I immediately (meaning, as slowly as possible, right before popping the cork on my champagne) withdrew myself and shouted “Arr, there she blows, matey,” to which she replied “Swab my deck!”
That’s the last time I party in Aptos.
Last night I was having sex with my girlfriend…haha, like I have a girlfriend!
No, but really, last night I was having sex with this sexy young thing (a 30-year-old Cabrillo student with a shaved head) and right in the middle of it (so, one minute in), she starts screaming: “Oh my god! Not you, Roger!”
Clearly, my name is not Roger, or else I would have been somewhat okay with that (ignoring the fact that she said “Not you”). What bothered me more, though, than the fact that apparently she had mistaken me for some former boyfriend as she apparently had an acid flashback while apparently NOT enjoying the awesome sex (if you’re a virgin freshman in high school) I was gifting to her (seriously, the condom felt like goddamn gift wrap), was that I realized she had somehow interpreted the Jolly Roger tattoo on my shoulder as her old boyfriend. So, realizing that I was copulating with one the stupidest (or is that hottest?) girls I had ever hooked up with at a party (okay, a five person tailgate kegger by Seacliff beach), I immediately (meaning, as slowly as possible, right before popping the cork on my champagne) withdrew myself and shouted “Arr, there she blows, matey,” to which she replied “Swab my deck!”
That’s the last time I party in Aptos.
Why I Hate the Internet (Nick Edrick Blog 2)
So Ive been using the Internet for quite a long time now, and the one thing that is repeatedly confirmed for me is that there are some things that do not need to be on the Internet. Midget porn, beheading videos, and some 12-year old’s pointless ramblings on Youtube are all wastes of bandwidth and my time. But these are all common examples; most people don’t want to see other people get beheaded (except for you, freak). But I have higher standards, I suppose.
My brother sent me an article about scientists who found spiderwebs that are hundreds of years old. Christ, I don’t want to read that! That means there are hundreds of year old SPIDERS. What deepest and darkest reaches of Hell are they from? What’s to stop them from coming through my window (or potentially my wall, I don’t know how big they are) and sucking all of my precious fluids out? Have they evolved the ability to talk? What would a really old spider have to say? (Must be a storm comin, 6 of my knees are actin up…).
Get that off my screen, I never want to see it again. Gimme the midget porn instead.
My brother sent me an article about scientists who found spiderwebs that are hundreds of years old. Christ, I don’t want to read that! That means there are hundreds of year old SPIDERS. What deepest and darkest reaches of Hell are they from? What’s to stop them from coming through my window (or potentially my wall, I don’t know how big they are) and sucking all of my precious fluids out? Have they evolved the ability to talk? What would a really old spider have to say? (Must be a storm comin, 6 of my knees are actin up…).
Get that off my screen, I never want to see it again. Gimme the midget porn instead.
Menstruation and Hippie Theater.
This is Caroline Klink, and I have absolutely no patience for writing a god damn blog right now. I'm going to blow through this whole thing as quickly as possible so I can get back to my Ben & Jerry's. I have a bucket of cookie dough in my freezer, and I'm not making it wait for me. So anyway...I work five hours every night on wardrobe duty for "Moving Voices", a UCSC production that is the epitome of all things hippie and pointless. The show itself is a cast of people moving about on stage, doing some kind of activity like looking at a tree, or searching for their shoes, or tripping balls quietly in the corner, while making a series of disturbing noises, while in the background, sitar and cello music adds a kind of acid-trip vibe to the already painfully boring experience. I don't honestly know how it can be called theater when I could easily have written an IDENTICAL play, my inspiration being what occurs in my apartment on a day-to-day basis. I was almost sure there had to be some deeper meaning than "student actors know how to pantomime picking an apple off a tree", but after hours of searching, the only conclusion I came to was that whoever wrote this is a self-involved, shallow, "look at me, I'm so deep" hippie scumbag with way too much free time.
Next, I'm going through every female's favorite time of the month. Yeah, that means I'm on the rag (so it is imperative that I return to my Ben & Jerry's rather soon). What that means for the rest of you is that you should probably buy a helmet if you are within a 500 yard radius of me. I've recently developed the urge to strap a couple of homemade explosive devices to my chest and sprint through the doors of a shopping mall and scream "DIE, YOU DISGUSTING CONSUMERIST SHITBAGS" just before blowing myself and everyone around me straight to the bowels of hell. Then I realized what time of the month it was, and calmed down a little. I realized it wasn't worth the effort and ANOTHER felony charge, so I'm done with it. The world is safe for at least one more month.
After that, you fuckers are on your own. Buy a helmet.
Next, I'm going through every female's favorite time of the month. Yeah, that means I'm on the rag (so it is imperative that I return to my Ben & Jerry's rather soon). What that means for the rest of you is that you should probably buy a helmet if you are within a 500 yard radius of me. I've recently developed the urge to strap a couple of homemade explosive devices to my chest and sprint through the doors of a shopping mall and scream "DIE, YOU DISGUSTING CONSUMERIST SHITBAGS" just before blowing myself and everyone around me straight to the bowels of hell. Then I realized what time of the month it was, and calmed down a little. I realized it wasn't worth the effort and ANOTHER felony charge, so I'm done with it. The world is safe for at least one more month.
After that, you fuckers are on your own. Buy a helmet.
Bus ride- Oliver Cruz
Well I wanted to talk about my experiences on taking the bus on campus. I take the bus almost every day to get to my classes and around campus or downtown. Whenever I take the bus I always take my IPOD because I don’t want to listen to people talk. Well do you not notice when you are on the bus you get those weird looks. I remember one day I was listening to my music then a girl just gives me a dirty look. I am oh OK what the fuck does that mean. Was she trying to tell me she doesn’t like my music or that she wants to have sex? So when this happens I pretend text sometimes to get away my attention from her. Also another thing that happens on the bus is that you always see drunken people on it on weekend nights. I was taking the metro bus back up campus on a Friday night. I then saw this couple of girls and guys all shit face. I mean the bus driver must be dumb to let drunken people on the bus. Only one of two things can happen. Either they threw up on the bus or they start fucking in the bus. And this time it was this couple who were macking on each other hard. Like it was hard not to stare because they were so loud and this one guy was not even hiding that he was looking. I was like what the fuck dude have you not see two people make out. But then again he was wearing a dungeons and dragons shirt. In all when going on the bus you get many weird ass people. Every time I step into the bus I was think to myself is this the day I finally get a normal bus ride.
Shayne and the Phunny Pharmacy (Blog 2)
Hey there, my name is Shayne San Agustin can safely say with much confidence that I am on the fence about whether or not I like my job. Let’s start with the horrible aspects of it. First off, I love how people personally blame you whenever anything goes wrong. What’s this? My insurance is not covering my boner meds? You sir are the one to blame, now fix it and make things better so that I can go home and make love to the missus. Even better, What! It’s not covering my birth control? You’re an evil evil man you meanie you! Somewhere in the back of my head I’m thinking to myself that she’ll be back the next day to buy some plan B (pharmacy technician: 1, mean teenie bopper bitch : 0 ). My personal favorites are the mantras that go along the lines of “It should be there, I called it in yesterday, or I still had refills remaining” or my personal favorite “you said 15 minutes 15 minutes ago.” Ok first off, it’s not ready so no you didn’t call, if you did it would be ready now wouldn’t it? Second, sir look at the bottle: 5 jillion refills until oh what’s that? I’m sorry your refills expired LAST MONTH. We have to call the doc for more refills. As for you there Mr. waiter, we fucking called your name three times, increase the volume on your hearing aid or something. On a more serious note, I do fill pity for the people struggling to pay for their blood pressure medications. Let’s put it this way, I can tell when people are going to be bummed about their meds so I try to lighten the mood.
” Ma’am that’ll be $234.15, plus your left arm, your right leg, and your soul. And if you don’t have any of those, we’ll take your first born as down payment, that’s how we get our employees.”
Now, on the positive note about working in a pharmacy….now that I think about it, it’s actually hard to come up with some. I have a coworker that used to rush his customers just so he could service the next hottie in line. More often than not it was a plan B request so whenever I see him work his magic it’s like “here ya go babe. There’s plenty more where that came from” , he’s a straight up player so every time I go up to him and tell him, you’re probably the one who got her pregnant to begin with….good job dude keep this up and we’ll be rolling in the dough. Honestly people, keep up the good work, we need the money.
” Ma’am that’ll be $234.15, plus your left arm, your right leg, and your soul. And if you don’t have any of those, we’ll take your first born as down payment, that’s how we get our employees.”
Now, on the positive note about working in a pharmacy….now that I think about it, it’s actually hard to come up with some. I have a coworker that used to rush his customers just so he could service the next hottie in line. More often than not it was a plan B request so whenever I see him work his magic it’s like “here ya go babe. There’s plenty more where that came from
Ben Gray - Blog #2
Halloween scares me. I really don’t like the idea of people who I’m already pretty sure are crazy running around drunk and/or high with masks on. These are the kind of people who really do need to be accountable for their actions… Letting them hide behind masks seems like a bad idea.
This phenomenon of unaccountability also turns out to be a huge problem for the lady folk. Just about everyone of the female persuasion dresses like a whore on Halloween. Why? Because they’re “hiding” behind their costumes… It’s not really them, so they don’t have to be held accountable for degrading all women everywhere and the downfall of morality.
These costumes are so far fetched too… When was the last time you saw a housekeeper who looked like that? Most of the housekeepers I’ve seen in recent memory had thicker mustaches than me.
The real problem, though, is the unoriginality. At any given Halloween party you’ll find 16 French maids, 12 slutty nurses, 9 pirates, 3 Tinkerbelles and a partridge in a pear tree.
What am I supposed to do when the Doctor tells I have to notify all of my recent sexual partners that I’ve contracted the Syph… “Well, doc… It was one of those maids… the ones without the mustaches…”
This phenomenon of unaccountability also turns out to be a huge problem for the lady folk. Just about everyone of the female persuasion dresses like a whore on Halloween. Why? Because they’re “hiding” behind their costumes… It’s not really them, so they don’t have to be held accountable for degrading all women everywhere and the downfall of morality.
These costumes are so far fetched too… When was the last time you saw a housekeeper who looked like that? Most of the housekeepers I’ve seen in recent memory had thicker mustaches than me.
The real problem, though, is the unoriginality. At any given Halloween party you’ll find 16 French maids, 12 slutty nurses, 9 pirates, 3 Tinkerbelles and a partridge in a pear tree.
What am I supposed to do when the Doctor tells I have to notify all of my recent sexual partners that I’ve contracted the Syph… “Well, doc… It was one of those maids… the ones without the mustaches…”
Improve Tryouts By:Kevin Cowie
Hi my names Kevin Cowie and I officially suck at all types of improv. For the last 3 weeks I tried out for 3 improv teams and failed miserably at all of them. Even I I did fail, improv I noticed shows what type of personality you have. Unfortunately when it showed what kind of imagination I had, I knew there were some problems going on upstairs. The improv judges told us to use our imagination and go with whatever comes into our head first. I was asked favorite drink, I said alcohol. They asked me to think of the worst television program for kids would be, I said little boys on ice starring Michael Jackson. Worst thing your parents could find in your room, I said a bunch of dead babies. It didn't dawn on me then but I noticed after words that I was an alcoholic with a sick and perverted sense of humor. My imagination has definitely went down the drain since pretending to have an imaginary friend that was a Tyrannosaurus Rex that could speak Spanish. Ya I was a lonely little kid... I really don't want to think about where my imagination would take me now if I had an imaginary friend. “Hey guys this is Havana a European model for playboy, ya me and her are the best of friends.” I also noticed other things that change when you grow up. One extra disappointing factor has to be how peoples tastes in ice cream changed and mine stayed the same. Ill still order the mix of 10 different ice cream flavors with every topping you can think of on top. MMM just thinking about it makes me as excited as an addicted coke addict who stumbled across some powdered sugar. Yet, everyone now seems to get that single flavor of plain ice cream. I cant see how people live like that! Ice cream is the equivalence of an orgasm in your mouth. Now who the hell wants to go against adding more sexual layers of gooey pleasure on top of what your eating. Thank you I'm Kevin Cowie.
Mulifanua Asuega "Al"
Blog #2
So I've never been raped before, well involuntarily that is, but if I went to prison I definitely would. I mean look at me; tall, dark, and handsome, with dashing good looks, and an acute sense of smell, I am fucking screwed. That is the exact reason why I don't do stupid shit around cops. I mean just the fear of being Big Bubba's bitch, is why I stopped stealing bubble gum and condoms from Safeway. Could you imagine someone like me, fragile, frail and fresh the 3 main F's that make me prime grade "A" meat to the rest of my incarcerated roommates. I would go through any means necessary to prevent any penetration of the many orifices on my body. Screw the macho male bravado type act, that shows all other inmates how tough I am so that they would leave me alone. I don't got the bone structure to be intimidating to anyone. Naw, Imma go against the grain and bring Big Bubba cupcakes and read him Dr. Suess at night, or trade my draws for a pack of cigarettes, or scrub his back in those hard to reach places, or carry his lunch to his table of eating, you know brotherly stuff so we can both bond. Anything that would keep Big Bubba happy and my boot muscles tight. I would be the best got damn cellmate Big Bubba's ever had. Shit I would braid his hair and even tattoo his baby mama's name on his knuckles. But if none of that works... I guess I can just play dead in hopes that they remove my pathetic body and throw me in the trash. Better alternative than being on the recieving end to Big Bubba's wrath.
So I've never been raped before, well involuntarily that is, but if I went to prison I definitely would. I mean look at me; tall, dark, and handsome, with dashing good looks, and an acute sense of smell, I am fucking screwed. That is the exact reason why I don't do stupid shit around cops. I mean just the fear of being Big Bubba's bitch, is why I stopped stealing bubble gum and condoms from Safeway. Could you imagine someone like me, fragile, frail and fresh the 3 main F's that make me prime grade "A" meat to the rest of my incarcerated roommates. I would go through any means necessary to prevent any penetration of the many orifices on my body. Screw the macho male bravado type act, that shows all other inmates how tough I am so that they would leave me alone. I don't got the bone structure to be intimidating to anyone. Naw, Imma go against the grain and bring Big Bubba cupcakes and read him Dr. Suess at night, or trade my draws for a pack of cigarettes, or scrub his back in those hard to reach places, or carry his lunch to his table of eating, you know brotherly stuff so we can both bond. Anything that would keep Big Bubba happy and my boot muscles tight. I would be the best got damn cellmate Big Bubba's ever had. Shit I would braid his hair and even tattoo his baby mama's name on his knuckles. But if none of that works... I guess I can just play dead in hopes that they remove my pathetic body and throw me in the trash. Better alternative than being on the recieving end to Big Bubba's wrath.
Turning Tricks For Treats: A HO-lloween Special!
HEY GUYS! It’s Emily A, and you look lovely today. I think more people should put on semi-formal attire before they peruse the blogosphere. I actually can’t see you (you have to pay to use my webcam services), but I can only assume you’re a classy individual, seeing as you’re reading the 2009 UCSC Standup Comedy Blog. Probably only a little inbred, I bet.
Anyway, speaking of outfits, it’s almost Halloween. I’m going as a bat. A promiscuous bat. Just kidding, I’m going as a regular, homely, non-sexy bat. I wouldn’t know sexy if it danced naked in front of me covered in oil.
This is the “Google Images Dictionary” definition of sexy. I put it here to trick people into reading my blog. If you’re reading this, THANX GOOGLIE! Nothing like a little female objectification to capture the ol’ attention, amirite?
In any case, watching me trying to be sexy is like watching a giraffe give birth. The intended audience becomes awkward, uncomfortable, and occasionally covered in blood. So I stick to wholesome costumes. Last year I went as an aborted fetus.
Halloween for your average moderately sexy college co-ed is an entirely different story. The front windows of stores are already filled with scandalous outfits for the seasonal whore. All of the pictures for the costumes are just boobs, supermodel legs, and the word “Sexy” in the title. There’s “Sexy Waitress”, “Sexy Nurse”, “Sexy Sexretary”, and “Sexy Pirate” - the last for you non-traditional jobholders out there. I saw a “Sexy Alice in Wonderland” outfit yesterday.
After working at Hooters for six years, your hand just kind of gets stuck like that.
Before we get into all of the “I’d like to go down your rabbit hole” jokes, I’d like to remind you that ALICE IS SEVEN YEARS OLD.
So hot right now. That outfit is going to go GREAT with these come-fuck-me heels.
(Picture courtesy of Humbert Humbert)
Congratulations Halloween, you’re officially a contender in the Terrible Corporate Holiday Competition. Christmas, you best watch yo’ back!
Anyway, speaking of outfits, it’s almost Halloween. I’m going as a bat. A promiscuous bat. Just kidding, I’m going as a regular, homely, non-sexy bat. I wouldn’t know sexy if it danced naked in front of me covered in oil.
This is the “Google Images Dictionary” definition of sexy. I put it here to trick people into reading my blog. If you’re reading this, THANX GOOGLIE! Nothing like a little female objectification to capture the ol’ attention, amirite?In any case, watching me trying to be sexy is like watching a giraffe give birth. The intended audience becomes awkward, uncomfortable, and occasionally covered in blood. So I stick to wholesome costumes. Last year I went as an aborted fetus.
Halloween for your average moderately sexy college co-ed is an entirely different story. The front windows of stores are already filled with scandalous outfits for the seasonal whore. All of the pictures for the costumes are just boobs, supermodel legs, and the word “Sexy” in the title. There’s “Sexy Waitress”, “Sexy Nurse”, “Sexy Sexretary”, and “Sexy Pirate” - the last for you non-traditional jobholders out there. I saw a “Sexy Alice in Wonderland” outfit yesterday.
After working at Hooters for six years, your hand just kind of gets stuck like that.Before we get into all of the “I’d like to go down your rabbit hole” jokes, I’d like to remind you that ALICE IS SEVEN YEARS OLD.
So hot right now. That outfit is going to go GREAT with these come-fuck-me heels. (Picture courtesy of Humbert Humbert)
Congratulations Halloween, you’re officially a contender in the Terrible Corporate Holiday Competition. Christmas, you best watch yo’ back!
What's Wrong with Alex? Alex Finlay
So I think I found out what’s wrong with me, medically at least. It’s been a long journey of doctors visits where they tell me nothing’s wrong and I’m just kind of crazy and then they kind of suggest that I go see a psychiatrist and then I go and he tells me that there’s nothing wrong but here’s a few Zoloft to get me by and then I go back because I think the Zoloft made me more depressed so here’s some Prozac, its stronger HOLY SHIT IT IS. Anyway, I’m not depressed, I have an underactive thyroid! No it’s true I really think I perhaps maybe could possibly have hypothyroidism. Maybe. I mean, it totally would make sense. Symptoms? Weight gain? Last year, I gained like 30 pounds even though I was walking more than I ever have in my life. I should have lost weight last year except oh yeah um. Dining hall? Oh…But besides that, I also have major mood swings and I’m always irritated. But you know, that could just be that I live with a bunch of fucktards. The one that I absolutely despise was trying to complain to me how no one does their dishes. Was he trying to provoke pity from me because I’m the one who wakes up 3 hours before class to clean the kitchen, only to take a shower and 15 minutes later the entire spoon supply is dirty and there’s crumbs everywhere and PEOPLE FUCKING SUCK.
Anyway, I think I might have hypothyroidism. Last year I thought I had arthritis. I mean, all my joints hurt, and my knees and ankles were swollen all the fucking time. That’s not hypochondriac, that logic. Unfortunately, the doctor was on crack and told me I was fine and he doesn't know why my joints hurt and swell up. I bet he barely graduated med school. Okay so there was this one time when I thought I had tooth cancer. But hold that thought...
Okay so I was just talking about my fucking annoying roommates. Now one of them is eating, no, slurping like a goddamn anteater. How do you slurp oatmeal?? We do have carving knives in the kitchen, he better watch himself.
Anyway, back to tooth cancer. I thought I had a tumor on my tooth. Now that I think about it, it was a little silly. But it makes sense that you can get tooth cancer, right? Anyone heard of bone cancer? Yeah well guess what teeth are? That’s like anatomy 101 right there. Don’t call me crazy when you don’t know what teeth are.
Julie Roth, Babies, please
. I must be reaching my prime reproductive fertility age because every time I see a pregnant woman or a baby, I want my own little sea monkey kicking around inside me. Maybe you wouldn't be able to tell because right now I am seriously wearing adult-sized footie pajamas with an afghan (the blanket, not the dog) wrapped around me like I've been up all night trying to catch the tooth fairy. [My house is perpetually freezing, but if I don't leave my window cracked my room will get all stuffy and smell weird. MY LIFE IS SO HARD.]
. But in all seriousness, I know I am not ready to throw my life away. I, in no way, want some little pooper to keep me up all night alternating between screaming and clutching my breasts (this is where I would joke about my boyfriend already doing that, but lucky for all of us I am currently single) and then grow up so we can embarrass each other and ask to borrow money. Regardless, I can't keep my mind from wandering over to thoughts of precious baby feet and how good their fuzzy heads smell.
. Because of this, I constantly size up my guy friends, boyfriends, and any potential fathers in my life. Not in terms of how good a father they could be, but what their genes have to offer me. Aside from bad eyesight, I could be a poster child for health. I can eat anything and hang out with any animal in any environment because I am not allergic to anything (I'm basically invincible, you guys). I adore my friend Tom, but but I don't want his asthma and allergies tainting my baby's gene pool. And is it vain to want a beautiful, healthy baby? Does it make me a bad person to want to get with a tall, good-looking, vocally gifted Hawaiian Prince with beautiful hair to make some fabulous babies? No. No. No!
. Another thing I do to prepare is keep mental lists of good baby names. When discussing potential names for our children, my bestfriend said he wanted twins, then another one. The Twins (a boy and girl) we decided to give our own names but to the baby with the opposite gender. The Other he wanted to name after his father. I got to pick middle names. Our happy clan would have been Julian [from Julie] Button, Louise [from Luis] Peanut, and Adolfo Butterfingers. Too precious? Almost! While driving through Kansas on a roadtrip with my parents (remember how hard my life is?) on highway 70, we passed an exit for two towns: Tonganoxie and Eudora. HAVE YOU EVER HEARD SUCH BEAUTIFUL NAMES? I was dizzy from excitement. I started praying for twins girls that instant. The other night while driving through San Francisco, I passed an intersection where to the right was a street called Congdon and the left, Justin. Twin boys? Yes, PLEASE! Congdon will have to have a good sense of humor and be really cool, and Justin better not get jealous.
. But in all seriousness, I know I am not ready to throw my life away. I, in no way, want some little pooper to keep me up all night alternating between screaming and clutching my breasts (this is where I would joke about my boyfriend already doing that, but lucky for all of us I am currently single) and then grow up so we can embarrass each other and ask to borrow money. Regardless, I can't keep my mind from wandering over to thoughts of precious baby feet and how good their fuzzy heads smell.
. Because of this, I constantly size up my guy friends, boyfriends, and any potential fathers in my life. Not in terms of how good a father they could be, but what their genes have to offer me. Aside from bad eyesight, I could be a poster child for health. I can eat anything and hang out with any animal in any environment because I am not allergic to anything (I'm basically invincible, you guys). I adore my friend Tom, but but I don't want his asthma and allergies tainting my baby's gene pool. And is it vain to want a beautiful, healthy baby? Does it make me a bad person to want to get with a tall, good-looking, vocally gifted Hawaiian Prince with beautiful hair to make some fabulous babies? No. No. No!
. Another thing I do to prepare is keep mental lists of good baby names. When discussing potential names for our children, my bestfriend said he wanted twins, then another one. The Twins (a boy and girl) we decided to give our own names but to the baby with the opposite gender. The Other he wanted to name after his father. I got to pick middle names. Our happy clan would have been Julian [from Julie] Button, Louise [from Luis] Peanut, and Adolfo Butterfingers. Too precious? Almost! While driving through Kansas on a roadtrip with my parents (remember how hard my life is?) on highway 70, we passed an exit for two towns: Tonganoxie and Eudora. HAVE YOU EVER HEARD SUCH BEAUTIFUL NAMES? I was dizzy from excitement. I started praying for twins girls that instant. The other night while driving through San Francisco, I passed an intersection where to the right was a street called Congdon and the left, Justin. Twin boys? Yes, PLEASE! Congdon will have to have a good sense of humor and be really cool, and Justin better not get jealous.
Nick Patti comes up with a brilliant idea! (Comedy Blog #2)
So I had this really funny thought the other night about something really hilarious with this one thing about this one guy that pretty much made me pee my pants while I was thinking about it!
…but then I fell asleep.
The next morning, I awoke with a warm, welling sensation, telling me that the day ahead was going to be full of success and accomplishment. But since I peed my pants and accidentally wet the bed the night before, my bi-weekly laundry day was pushed forward one and six sevenths of a week ahead of schedule, making me miss breakfast, as well as a good chunk of my first class of the day (it’s an art class, so it doesn’t really count (and by “doesn’t really count,” I mean, “Holy-shit-this-class-has-so-much-reading-about-the-dumbest-things-I’ve-ever-heard-in-my-entire-life-why-is-that-naked-woman-pulling-a-scroll-out-of-her-vagina-and-reading-it?” Now pause for a second… I know just what you’re thinking. And yes, it’s just as fucked up as it sounds; standing in front of an audience, buck naked, and pulling a roll of paper out of your vajay-hole while trying to decipher what you’ve written even though your juices are smearing all of the ink of the paper. Don’t think that someone actually did this? Well that’s too bad, because it’s true, which I guess can also be considered a bad thing if you really think about it.))
The first thing I thought about when my teacher showed us this slide in class:
Paper cuts…
Raise your hand if you just thought the same thing that I did!?
Alright, now stop raising your hand in front of the computer. You look rather silly, and it’s embarrassing me. Stop it.
RANDOM THOUGHT! Who here reads all of these posts other than Ashkahn?! Show of hands! :D
So after I finished with my extremely premature load of laundry, I decided to go back to bed, because I was so flustered with the FLUXUS art movement that I just gave up on that day; it didn’t bring me anything remotely warm or welling, other than the urine that soiled my sheets and sent me to the laundry room in the first place. However, regardless of my indifferenc, I did take something out of that experience that I deem to be worthwhile. Since I was so annoyed by their existence, I took it upon myself to come up with a fitting acronym for their influential, growing art movement:
Fucking
Loonies
Unveil
XXX!!
Um…
Soup.
See, it’s art, so it doesn’t even need to make sense! (Almost makes as much sense as a man covering his face in gold paint and telling poetry to a dead rabbit. Once again, not kidding)
Well, that's all for me now. The sun is up, so I'm gonna go to bed. :)
…but then I fell asleep.
The next morning, I awoke with a warm, welling sensation, telling me that the day ahead was going to be full of success and accomplishment. But since I peed my pants and accidentally wet the bed the night before, my bi-weekly laundry day was pushed forward one and six sevenths of a week ahead of schedule, making me miss breakfast, as well as a good chunk of my first class of the day (it’s an art class, so it doesn’t really count (and by “doesn’t really count,” I mean, “Holy-shit-this-class-has-so-much-reading-about-the-dumbest-things-I’ve-ever-heard-in-my-entire-life-why-is-that-naked-woman-pulling-a-scroll-out-of-her-vagina-and-reading-it?” Now pause for a second… I know just what you’re thinking. And yes, it’s just as fucked up as it sounds; standing in front of an audience, buck naked, and pulling a roll of paper out of your vajay-hole while trying to decipher what you’ve written even though your juices are smearing all of the ink of the paper. Don’t think that someone actually did this? Well that’s too bad, because it’s true, which I guess can also be considered a bad thing if you really think about it.))
The first thing I thought about when my teacher showed us this slide in class:
Paper cuts…
Raise your hand if you just thought the same thing that I did!?
Alright, now stop raising your hand in front of the computer. You look rather silly, and it’s embarrassing me. Stop it.
RANDOM THOUGHT! Who here reads all of these posts other than Ashkahn?! Show of hands! :D
So after I finished with my extremely premature load of laundry, I decided to go back to bed, because I was so flustered with the FLUXUS art movement that I just gave up on that day; it didn’t bring me anything remotely warm or welling, other than the urine that soiled my sheets and sent me to the laundry room in the first place. However, regardless of my indifferenc, I did take something out of that experience that I deem to be worthwhile. Since I was so annoyed by their existence, I took it upon myself to come up with a fitting acronym for their influential, growing art movement:
Fucking
Loonies
Unveil
XXX!!
Um…
Soup.
See, it’s art, so it doesn’t even need to make sense! (Almost makes as much sense as a man covering his face in gold paint and telling poetry to a dead rabbit. Once again, not kidding)
Well, that's all for me now. The sun is up, so I'm gonna go to bed. :)
Life Facts with Kirill Zaitsev
Hi. My name is Kirill Zaitsev. It’s Russian.
I’m feeling scatter-brained. So this will be scatter brained:
My First name means: The Lord
Last name: Of Rabbits. I’m not kidding.
I do eat a lot of carrots. So it makes sense. I am a vegan, so my diet is very Rabbit-riffic. I wonder how many children I will have…
Being Russian means I have to like vodka, and all things related to potatoes, like couches. I’m also a health nut. End result: I take my vitamins with a shot of vodka, while sitting on the couch, (Sometimes for cultural pizzazz, I wear a sombrero too).
Vibrators are illegal in Texas, why? Because grumpy old white men don’t have a sense of adventure, so what does this law really do? It’s helps cucumber farmers, a lot. And probably leads to the misuse of vibrating video game controllers/ cell phones/ jack hammers, yes, jack hammers, everything is supposed to be bigger in Texas, get used to it.
FAQs on the Alzheimer’s website:
1. Is there an Alzheimer’s website?
Here’s a tip for any Gay men out there: When crossing state lines and being asked “Are you traveling with any Fruits?” Don’t raise your hand “Just meeee.” They won’t think it’s as funny as you do… just trust me.
And a hint for everyone: don’t keep your chapstick near a glue stick. While you are at it, also don’t keep ketchup packets near your condoms.
If you type in “Why are” into a google search, and let google suggest, one of the suggestions (that apparently enough people search for) is “Why are there school?”
That should do it,
Cyall
I’m feeling scatter-brained. So this will be scatter brained:
My First name means: The Lord
Last name: Of Rabbits. I’m not kidding.
I do eat a lot of carrots. So it makes sense. I am a vegan, so my diet is very Rabbit-riffic. I wonder how many children I will have…
Being Russian means I have to like vodka, and all things related to potatoes, like couches. I’m also a health nut. End result: I take my vitamins with a shot of vodka, while sitting on the couch, (Sometimes for cultural pizzazz, I wear a sombrero too).
Vibrators are illegal in Texas, why? Because grumpy old white men don’t have a sense of adventure, so what does this law really do? It’s helps cucumber farmers, a lot. And probably leads to the misuse of vibrating video game controllers/ cell phones/ jack hammers, yes, jack hammers, everything is supposed to be bigger in Texas, get used to it.
FAQs on the Alzheimer’s website:
1. Is there an Alzheimer’s website?
Here’s a tip for any Gay men out there: When crossing state lines and being asked “Are you traveling with any Fruits?” Don’t raise your hand “Just meeee.” They won’t think it’s as funny as you do… just trust me.
And a hint for everyone: don’t keep your chapstick near a glue stick. While you are at it, also don’t keep ketchup packets near your condoms.
If you type in “Why are” into a google search, and let google suggest, one of the suggestions (that apparently enough people search for) is “Why are there school?”
That should do it,
Cyall
Scott Curtis Blog # 2
I seriously believe that Communism would work if I was in charge of everything. As chairman of the dictatorship of the proletariat, the social utopia envisioned by Marx and Engels would become a reality. Don’t take this grandiose promise as a gesture of hubris, but rather understand that I’m the shit and nobody else knows the full extent of my ‘master-plan.’ The first order of business, besides liquidating all private businesses, would be a decree banning any child under the age of seven from flying in a passenger plane. Fuck them they can walk. Second, all copies of the Bible, Torah, and Koran would be burned and replaced with my soon to be best-selling autobiography “Scott Curtis > Moses, Jesus and Muhammad.” Third, the University of California Santa Cruz will remain exactly how it is, as the current system of ideological indoctrination has been perfected to an art. Fourth, all private property would become the property of the people and would accordingly be divided among my closest friends, family and survivors of the first purge. This blog is not to be construed as a declaration of sedition or an open invitation to begin the inevitable revolution to follow. Instead the people of the Western Hemisphere should become familiar with the man who will rule with an iron fist, and fist with an iron hand. All hail the vanguard of the revolution, the glorious dictatorship of the proletariat, whose powers the world will soon come to understand. Away with yea taxes, Republicans and Democrats. Be gone imperial wars of occupation in foreign lands. In our bright future their will be no income to tax, no political parties to choose between and the war of occupation will be brought home.
The Importance of Beards [Paul Herzog]
Blog 2
The Importance of Beards
I’m a man. Approaching 20 years of age. Though you wouldn’t know because my facial hair is much more closely related to that of about a 9 year old. I know what you may be thinking, but having a baby smooth face isn’t all its cracked up to be. Sure, I’ll be able to get into Chuck-E-Cheez until I’m 30, but destroying kids at ski-ball is only satisfying for awhile (Plus I already have enough tickets for the PS3). Beards have a certain culture surrounding them. It’s true, think about it. There’s many facets of life I will never get to experience without the ability to grow a beard. Allow me to elaborate.
Say I become an astrophysicist, and a meteor is coming to destroy Earth. Without an unkept beard, how will my colleagues know that I’ve been working around the clock trying to save the world, sparing no time to shave. Nobody wants to work with a clean shaven astrophysicist, its a fact. Without their support, how am I supposed to save earth from the asteroid? Call Bruce Willis again? He did it in Armageddon, no way he’ll do it twice.
What if I end up being washed up, sitting by myself at a bar in Cleveland drinking shots of Jack Daniels? No bartender is gonna empathize with a guy, wailing about how his wife took his kids and left him for his best friend, if he’s clean shaven. You need the scruff to get the sympathy.
It’s also proven that if you have a good beard, you will win an argument. No matter what. You could be defending the right to eat puppies, and no counter argument can beat the beard. You just point to it and say, the beard disagrees. Win. All I’m saying is Chuck Norris has a beard, and would you wanna disagree with that guy? Doubt it.
The Importance of Beards
I’m a man. Approaching 20 years of age. Though you wouldn’t know because my facial hair is much more closely related to that of about a 9 year old. I know what you may be thinking, but having a baby smooth face isn’t all its cracked up to be. Sure, I’ll be able to get into Chuck-E-Cheez until I’m 30, but destroying kids at ski-ball is only satisfying for awhile (Plus I already have enough tickets for the PS3). Beards have a certain culture surrounding them. It’s true, think about it. There’s many facets of life I will never get to experience without the ability to grow a beard. Allow me to elaborate.
Say I become an astrophysicist, and a meteor is coming to destroy Earth. Without an unkept beard, how will my colleagues know that I’ve been working around the clock trying to save the world, sparing no time to shave. Nobody wants to work with a clean shaven astrophysicist, its a fact. Without their support, how am I supposed to save earth from the asteroid? Call Bruce Willis again? He did it in Armageddon, no way he’ll do it twice.
What if I end up being washed up, sitting by myself at a bar in Cleveland drinking shots of Jack Daniels? No bartender is gonna empathize with a guy, wailing about how his wife took his kids and left him for his best friend, if he’s clean shaven. You need the scruff to get the sympathy.
It’s also proven that if you have a good beard, you will win an argument. No matter what. You could be defending the right to eat puppies, and no counter argument can beat the beard. You just point to it and say, the beard disagrees. Win. All I’m saying is Chuck Norris has a beard, and would you wanna disagree with that guy? Doubt it.
Olivia Mendonca, Blog #2
My parents went through this phase where they really enjoyed watching bull riding. Bull riding is a pretty odd thing. Who in the world thought it was a good idea to sit on top of an animal that literally weighs a ton and would like nothing more than to stomp on you, then stab you with the sharp, foot-long pieces of bone growing ever so conveniently out of its head? It just sounds a bit dangerous.
Oddly enough, I actually grew up watching lots and lots of people do stupid things with bulls. In the Central Valley, Portuguese people have bullfights over the summer. I'm not sure if a lot of people know this, because one would probably assume it's illegal or something. But it's not. They don't kill the bull, so it's alright. I guess. All morals involving animal rights set aside, everyone's favorite part is when the group that's nicknamed the “suicide squad” comes out to do their stuff. Basically what happens is eight guys all line up in front of the bull and let it run into them. Their job is to “catch” the bull and make it stop running. Sometimes it doesn't go so well.
There's also another kind of bullfighting that started in the Azores islands (which is where most of the valley's Portuguese immigrants are from). This one's not actually “fighting”. What happens is that five or six guys hold on to a rope, and on the other end of that very same rope there is, you guessed it, a bull. Then anybody who wants to jumps in front of it and tries to get as close as they can. The rope is incredibly long, so in reality the guys on the other end can't actually help much. The odd thing is, the guys running in front of the bull seem to think that having an umbrella will provide some protection.
Of all the things you can take with you, you pick an umbrella? Really? Needless to say, this form results in lots of people getting gored and stomped on. People have actually made videos compiled entirely of people getting trampled and thrown around. They're sort of like sports bloopers tapes, except instead of seeing someone fumble you see blood and serious injury. It's even set to the same kind of goofy music.
So, that's this week's lesson on Portuguese culture. You might be wondering how we haven't died out by now.
Oddly enough, I actually grew up watching lots and lots of people do stupid things with bulls. In the Central Valley, Portuguese people have bullfights over the summer. I'm not sure if a lot of people know this, because one would probably assume it's illegal or something. But it's not. They don't kill the bull, so it's alright. I guess. All morals involving animal rights set aside, everyone's favorite part is when the group that's nicknamed the “suicide squad” comes out to do their stuff. Basically what happens is eight guys all line up in front of the bull and let it run into them. Their job is to “catch” the bull and make it stop running. Sometimes it doesn't go so well.
There's also another kind of bullfighting that started in the Azores islands (which is where most of the valley's Portuguese immigrants are from). This one's not actually “fighting”. What happens is that five or six guys hold on to a rope, and on the other end of that very same rope there is, you guessed it, a bull. Then anybody who wants to jumps in front of it and tries to get as close as they can. The rope is incredibly long, so in reality the guys on the other end can't actually help much. The odd thing is, the guys running in front of the bull seem to think that having an umbrella will provide some protection.
Of all the things you can take with you, you pick an umbrella? Really? Needless to say, this form results in lots of people getting gored and stomped on. People have actually made videos compiled entirely of people getting trampled and thrown around. They're sort of like sports bloopers tapes, except instead of seeing someone fumble you see blood and serious injury. It's even set to the same kind of goofy music.
So, that's this week's lesson on Portuguese culture. You might be wondering how we haven't died out by now.
Fundamentalists - Tyler Thompson
People always talk about Google taking over the world... Is anyone else besides me looking forward to this? I have full confidence in their ability to lead our country; they can't be worse then our current government. Forget Google though, I'll settle for more scientists in general leading this country. The whole anti-intellectual movement (or as I like to call it, the evangelical christian movement) has really taken a toll on this nation. It's hard to take steps forward as a country when a quarter of it's population actually believes that salvation can not be attained through good work, only through faith in Jesus Christ. (Pulled from prayerfoundation.org) Does that make any sense? "So I can be a racist alcoholic and beat my wife and still go to heaven if I accept jesus christ as my lord and savior and atone for all my sins?" Fuck that, you guys can have heaven. I'll be chillin' in Hell with Ghandi. They have all the good music there anyways.
I like how fundamentalists get to just pick and choose which technologies and ideas we can appreciate. Cars? "Sure, as long as it's American made". Computers? "Fine, as long as you stay away from the perverted websites". Dinosaurs? "Yep, they were here. Died in the flood. Noah didn't have room for all the reptilian folk." Evolution? "You mean like monkeys? Where the hell would you get an idea like that? Did Ghandi tell you that?"
I like how fundamentalists get to just pick and choose which technologies and ideas we can appreciate. Cars? "Sure, as long as it's American made". Computers? "Fine, as long as you stay away from the perverted websites". Dinosaurs? "Yep, they were here. Died in the flood. Noah didn't have room for all the reptilian folk." Evolution? "You mean like monkeys? Where the hell would you get an idea like that? Did Ghandi tell you that?"
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Comedy Blog #2
Halloween Tricks & Treats
So Halloween is just around the corner. And no one loves Halloween like little kids, girls in sluty costumes, and the guys that get to look at those girls. I was unaware how certain girls need to get two entirely separate costumes if they decide to go to two different parties around Halloween. This means they have to think of more creative ways to dress in provocative outfits that attract guys and make other girls jealous. After arriving at the party they notice how “sluty” the other girls look despite complementing them on how cute their costumes are. Then after the countless tasteless sexual innuendos regarding their costume they change into an equally revealing costume for the next night’s function only to endure the same looks and vacant complements. For real, this is what some of these dumb bitches do. As a guy, I could give a fuck less what costume she wears. What really impresses me though is the effort. This retarded ritual is undergone every year despite the fucking freezing cold, creepy dudes, and just plain demented social constructions that make females perform in this bizarre shit. Now I know all girls don’t do this but really hats off to the troopers that make this happen every year. What would the holiday where children dress up to get free candy be without the future wives and moms of America getting half naked in cartoon and literary character inspired costumes? All I have to say is maybe your tits don’t fit in your costume because it is meant for a child.
-Devon Bealick
So Halloween is just around the corner. And no one loves Halloween like little kids, girls in sluty costumes, and the guys that get to look at those girls. I was unaware how certain girls need to get two entirely separate costumes if they decide to go to two different parties around Halloween. This means they have to think of more creative ways to dress in provocative outfits that attract guys and make other girls jealous. After arriving at the party they notice how “sluty” the other girls look despite complementing them on how cute their costumes are. Then after the countless tasteless sexual innuendos regarding their costume they change into an equally revealing costume for the next night’s function only to endure the same looks and vacant complements. For real, this is what some of these dumb bitches do. As a guy, I could give a fuck less what costume she wears. What really impresses me though is the effort. This retarded ritual is undergone every year despite the fucking freezing cold, creepy dudes, and just plain demented social constructions that make females perform in this bizarre shit. Now I know all girls don’t do this but really hats off to the troopers that make this happen every year. What would the holiday where children dress up to get free candy be without the future wives and moms of America getting half naked in cartoon and literary character inspired costumes? All I have to say is maybe your tits don’t fit in your costume because it is meant for a child.
-Devon Bealick
Politics Straight Up
The Governor of California, my man Arnold, can’t run for re-election because he has already served his two terms. So the terminator will be terming out this winter. This means that the upcoming race for Governor is wide open.
Meg Whitman is running for this open seat. She is the former CEO of EBAY, and I’m not going to lie I like the sound of that, I’ve scored off of EBay before, ….. Think of all the genius ideas she must have to boast our struggling economy. Here’s one, buy-it-now medical marijuana, I know it. -- Free shipping on all natural energy products. We could auction off redwoods to tree-sitters. So smart, that would turn bums into homeowners with the click of a mouse. Hell lets auction off Compton, to lowest bidder, and then have him put a boarder around that steaming shit hole. You ‘d have to be high to want to own Compton, right. Or well I guess most of L.A. for that mater.
But being real on this matter, really I feel like politics, or at least their ideals are just a bunch of trial and error procedures. All we are, are a bunch of imperfect induviduals, all with our own beliefs and cultures, together trying to create a perfectly flowing society. We need to come together as a state and also as a country during this economic struggle and work together, embracing our similarities and accepting our difference to move forward as a nation. The times are tough right now and I don't think people are as happy these days as they should be. I guess what I'm trying to get at is that the comic relief, is as important to society as ever.
Zack Oleinik
Meg Whitman is running for this open seat. She is the former CEO of EBAY, and I’m not going to lie I like the sound of that, I’ve scored off of EBay before, ….. Think of all the genius ideas she must have to boast our struggling economy. Here’s one, buy-it-now medical marijuana, I know it. -- Free shipping on all natural energy products. We could auction off redwoods to tree-sitters. So smart, that would turn bums into homeowners with the click of a mouse. Hell lets auction off Compton, to lowest bidder, and then have him put a boarder around that steaming shit hole. You ‘d have to be high to want to own Compton, right. Or well I guess most of L.A. for that mater.
But being real on this matter, really I feel like politics, or at least their ideals are just a bunch of trial and error procedures. All we are, are a bunch of imperfect induviduals, all with our own beliefs and cultures, together trying to create a perfectly flowing society. We need to come together as a state and also as a country during this economic struggle and work together, embracing our similarities and accepting our difference to move forward as a nation. The times are tough right now and I don't think people are as happy these days as they should be. I guess what I'm trying to get at is that the comic relief, is as important to society as ever.
Zack Oleinik
Social Justice for the Deers
Since UC Santa Cruz is such a liberal campus, I am constantly overhearing conversations about social justice, equality and politics from the cafes and bus stops. Sometimes the conversations can be so overwhelming and stimulating that I need to take a moment to be by myself. I will find a hidden trail and walk into the woods to clear my mind for a bit. Today, I was walking through the forest and I saw a family of deer eating from the grass. I asked myself, "I wonder what they talk about?" "Do they quarrel about social structures and about how one of their fur is shinier than the other and how the Papa deer shouldn't have custody of the baby deer after their horrible break up last fall? Since when did human beings become so complicated?
-Chessa Piker-Ward
-Chessa Piker-Ward
Grant Patrizio rants about Laughing...how he's a hyena, and how apparently that's NOT normal. Stand-up Comedy Blog #2
You know, I've always wondered why I laugh like a hyena when I find something to be really funny. It's something I've never understood. People I've spoken to said I either "laugh too much" or I "have a hearty laugh" or I just "let the laughter consume me." That last one's an interesting way to put it... But, then again, I guess it’s true. I mean, when I find something funny, I don’t just giggle or chuckle like some people. No. I let my entire body react to it. There have been points in my life where, I kid you not, I have literally ROFLed. For those who don’t speak internet jargon (which is just about anybody who’s ever gotten laid,) that means Rolling On the Floor Laughing.
Then there are those people who are the opposite of me and say to me “Oh, I never laugh out loud about anything.” People never laughing out loud...well, I don’t know about you, but I’m not able to believe something like that. Everybody giggles, everybody chuckles, and that's laughing out loud, technically speaking. I mean, I know I'm one of the world's only humanoid laughing hyenas, but COME ON. If you "never laugh out loud" then what's the point of having a sense of humor?
To quote Weird Al Yankovich on the subject: "Laughter is the very best medicine. Remember that when your appendix bursts next week."
Then there are those people who are the opposite of me and say to me “Oh, I never laugh out loud about anything.” People never laughing out loud...well, I don’t know about you, but I’m not able to believe something like that. Everybody giggles, everybody chuckles, and that's laughing out loud, technically speaking. I mean, I know I'm one of the world's only humanoid laughing hyenas, but COME ON. If you "never laugh out loud" then what's the point of having a sense of humor?
To quote Weird Al Yankovich on the subject: "Laughter is the very best medicine. Remember that when your appendix bursts next week."
Beyonce: Please Date Me
An Open Letter:
I love Beyonce. I love her so much. I listen to her in the morning, in the evening, at work and at play. One time I went to Costco, and on the big screen TV they were playing her music video for Crazy in Love. This boy was standing next to me and he must have been around 7 or 8. When she finished the dance scene, all he could do is look up at me and with his big brown eyes say “Wow.” I feel the same way little Timmy, I feel the same way. Beyonce is a force of nature. She WAS in a band with 3 other girls, and from the start it was always like they were her back up dancers. She got rid of those bitches as soon as she coined her own word. Let me repeat that. Beyonce made up the word “bootylicious” and it is now listed in the dictionary. So basically, this bitch can act, sing, dance, and shape and form our modern day English language. If that doesn’t deserve a nightly watching of her video for “Ring the Alarm” on youtube, I don’t know what does. That is why if Beyonce ever came across this blog while googling her own name and receiving copious amounts of head from Jay Z at the same time, I would like to tell her that I would love to be the person to shine her shoes or brush her dogs or even collect her droplets of sweat. Thank you,
Kat Brown
I love Beyonce. I love her so much. I listen to her in the morning, in the evening, at work and at play. One time I went to Costco, and on the big screen TV they were playing her music video for Crazy in Love. This boy was standing next to me and he must have been around 7 or 8. When she finished the dance scene, all he could do is look up at me and with his big brown eyes say “Wow.” I feel the same way little Timmy, I feel the same way. Beyonce is a force of nature. She WAS in a band with 3 other girls, and from the start it was always like they were her back up dancers. She got rid of those bitches as soon as she coined her own word. Let me repeat that. Beyonce made up the word “bootylicious” and it is now listed in the dictionary. So basically, this bitch can act, sing, dance, and shape and form our modern day English language. If that doesn’t deserve a nightly watching of her video for “Ring the Alarm” on youtube, I don’t know what does. That is why if Beyonce ever came across this blog while googling her own name and receiving copious amounts of head from Jay Z at the same time, I would like to tell her that I would love to be the person to shine her shoes or brush her dogs or even collect her droplets of sweat. Thank you,
Kat Brown
Blog post 2
I was watching TV… and i realized the absurdity of commercials...they always begin at a cliffhanger, they show your a bunch of products you probably won't buy and they're not long enough to actually do anything productive until the show starts again...and then I thought…what if people were like TV shows and every 10 to 12 minutes they would have a commercial break. You would be sitting in the lecture hall, and your teacher would say," There are three ways of finding GDP, the first is factor income where we sum the total income of factors of production, the second is the aggregate spending method where we sum up the amount spent by the household and government, and the third will be discussed right after this commercial break. And then the professor proceeds to try to sell you a rotisserie or the miracle blade. With just 4 easy payments of $19.95.
I think that conversations with people would be so much more interesting if this held true...people would be talking about their life and how they failed a test, and how they're so bad ass, and then their commercial would go on and it would be something totally opposite like a barbie commercial, or a commercial about milkquarius. I think the most hilarious example would be if the president gave a speech and as he talks about the dangers if a nuclear armed iran, and he goes straight into a girls gone wild commercial. He would start saying, "tons of college girls getting wild for you!! all for 9.99 call now, and you'll get a second video for free, thats right free. And then he goes back to talking about sanctions on iran.
I think that conversations with people would be so much more interesting if this held true...people would be talking about their life and how they failed a test, and how they're so bad ass, and then their commercial would go on and it would be something totally opposite like a barbie commercial, or a commercial about milkquarius. I think the most hilarious example would be if the president gave a speech and as he talks about the dangers if a nuclear armed iran, and he goes straight into a girls gone wild commercial. He would start saying, "tons of college girls getting wild for you!! all for 9.99 call now, and you'll get a second video for free, thats right free. And then he goes back to talking about sanctions on iran.
Sex in the Kitchen (cody reiss)
It seems like college is set up to prevent kids from having sex. It makes sense; obviously our school isn’t trying to have a bunch of baby mamas and papas running around. The first technique they use is co-ed bathrooms. Its pretty hard to get in “the mood” when you’re forced to take a dump next to the people you’re trying to woo. I mean I’m not saying that it’s hard to get girls that are interested. I mean how could girls not be interested when they see me walking down the hall in my silk robe, wearing $2 bright blue sandals and holding my matching blue shower bag. I walk around the halls, and girls are like “that guy is fucking sexy, sexy as fuck that guy is.” See… getting the girls is not the issue. It’s bringing them back to your room, which most often smells like pizza and weed, and getting the seduction on. Most often I’ll put on some Alanis Morrisette tracks, to really set the mood. Not to say that I don’t look absolutely sexy struggling to hop onto my bed, which for some reason is inconveniently placed way too many feet off the ground. Even if I do manage to pull myself onto my bed with grace, there is only about five feet across to work with. So I’m forced to make suave moves on this girl while I am pushed into the corner against the wall. With sexual contact in the dorms comes the conflict of “sexiling” you’re roommate when you’re trying to get it on. And when this happens you feel like you have to justify it to your roommate. “You made me sleep on the floor in John’s room… and all you got was some uncomfortable snuggling, and a 5 minute make out session?” “yeah bro… sorry.”
Swine Flue
Joseph’s Blog, October Twenty Eighth, 8:02 P.M
Hey, so this is my second blog and honestly, I’m a little upset I’ve waited this long to do it, I’m not really a procrastinator, and I really wanted to get this done yesterday, but with Halloween on the way, I just haven’t had the time. So, the topic for today is something that has been on everyone’s mind lately, swine flue. Honestly, I’m not worried about, and I’m not getting a vaccination, because people who have been getting have been getting sicker than they actually were. You understand that? And I know that people (doubting hippie parents) have been saying that since the beginning of vaccinations, but this is for a disease that really can’t hurt you. Ok, so a thousand people died, big deal, that’s no reason to worry, most of them were really young or old. Here’s the thing that people don’t get, the swine flu, despite being a slightly more severe flu, has a very minimal chance of actually killing you unless you’re an infant, one thousand years old or haven’t taken a decent shower in twenty seven years.
The other problem with swine flu that pisses me the fuck off is the fact that it causes so much damn hysteria. For example, Doug has the mike covers, but that is soft core shit compared to the larger scale of this world. Every time someone coughs, sneezes or shits funny they flip out. No, that’s boring, almost no one has swine flu and its not just going to happen to you because you coughed. People need to be educated, people who think they can get swine flue by touching a microphone are the reason the Holocaust happened, and the reason Wal-Mart is still in business. You know what would be nice for a change? If a disease came along, like the plague two, that actually was that deadly. Wouldn’t that be nice? I mean I would still have to listen to the freaking out day after day, but at least it would be warranted.
Hey, so this is my second blog and honestly, I’m a little upset I’ve waited this long to do it, I’m not really a procrastinator, and I really wanted to get this done yesterday, but with Halloween on the way, I just haven’t had the time. So, the topic for today is something that has been on everyone’s mind lately, swine flue. Honestly, I’m not worried about, and I’m not getting a vaccination, because people who have been getting have been getting sicker than they actually were. You understand that? And I know that people (doubting hippie parents) have been saying that since the beginning of vaccinations, but this is for a disease that really can’t hurt you. Ok, so a thousand people died, big deal, that’s no reason to worry, most of them were really young or old. Here’s the thing that people don’t get, the swine flu, despite being a slightly more severe flu, has a very minimal chance of actually killing you unless you’re an infant, one thousand years old or haven’t taken a decent shower in twenty seven years.
The other problem with swine flu that pisses me the fuck off is the fact that it causes so much damn hysteria. For example, Doug has the mike covers, but that is soft core shit compared to the larger scale of this world. Every time someone coughs, sneezes or shits funny they flip out. No, that’s boring, almost no one has swine flu and its not just going to happen to you because you coughed. People need to be educated, people who think they can get swine flue by touching a microphone are the reason the Holocaust happened, and the reason Wal-Mart is still in business. You know what would be nice for a change? If a disease came along, like the plague two, that actually was that deadly. Wouldn’t that be nice? I mean I would still have to listen to the freaking out day after day, but at least it would be warranted.
Women
Dustin Conlon
Comedy Blog
Oct 27 /09
Girls are fucking ridiculous. Sure they have to go through “giving birth” and all that good stuff, but that doesn’t give them an excuse for life to just make us fucking miserable 94.6% of the time. (the other 5.4% is during sex or blowjob) And ask anybody, ask even another woman, everybody knows that women have no idea what they want, or how to drive. It all starts in middle school where girls act like, imitate, dress like, and turn their personality into whatever they see on TV or in magazines. They have crushes on boys who if do not reciprocate this feeling, completely ruin their lives, and if they do then that’s too bad because she is already over it and into the guy sitting behind you in art class. Once they hit high school its all over, they like older men, they either turn slutty, geeky, athletic, or stupid. Sometimes it’s a mix between all of the above. It is during this time of high school which they truly peak, or start to climb towards that peak in some cases, and expect even more out of us as men. We are supposed to treat them nicely, but they don’t like that because in reality girls are attracted to men who treat them poorly, its like a challenge for them. But if we treat them poorly we are assholes, and that just isn’t good. We are supposed to know what they are thinking all the time, we are supposed to know what to say, and no matter what in any situation, if a girl is involved, we are completely wrong, no matter what we have to say or think. Another great part about women in high school, is they get all done up, looking very attractive, but we aren’t allowed to look. And the only ones who do allow us to look are the ones who are just plain sluts, and we get made fun of for looking at them anyways. But how is it fair for all the girls to wear push up bra’s that create a cleavage like the grand canyon, then they throw some sparkles and makeup on their tits, and yell at us if we look at them. But then they get depressed if nobody looks at them because that means they aren’t sexy. Once girls reach college, it gets a little better, they figure out what they want a little more, mature a little more, become a little more open to new things, or to old things that were just not comfortable for them. They figure out what they want is everything but nothing, always something else. They mature a little bit by acting mature and then breaking into a little girl at various times. They become a little more open because there is more alcohol in college. And they either want to just have sex, or have already started looking for a husband. But what is the difference right, they don’t know the difference between those two things anyways, and if they did, they in realistically don’t know which one they want.
Comedy Blog
Oct 27 /09
Girls are fucking ridiculous. Sure they have to go through “giving birth” and all that good stuff, but that doesn’t give them an excuse for life to just make us fucking miserable 94.6% of the time. (the other 5.4% is during sex or blowjob) And ask anybody, ask even another woman, everybody knows that women have no idea what they want, or how to drive. It all starts in middle school where girls act like, imitate, dress like, and turn their personality into whatever they see on TV or in magazines. They have crushes on boys who if do not reciprocate this feeling, completely ruin their lives, and if they do then that’s too bad because she is already over it and into the guy sitting behind you in art class. Once they hit high school its all over, they like older men, they either turn slutty, geeky, athletic, or stupid. Sometimes it’s a mix between all of the above. It is during this time of high school which they truly peak, or start to climb towards that peak in some cases, and expect even more out of us as men. We are supposed to treat them nicely, but they don’t like that because in reality girls are attracted to men who treat them poorly, its like a challenge for them. But if we treat them poorly we are assholes, and that just isn’t good. We are supposed to know what they are thinking all the time, we are supposed to know what to say, and no matter what in any situation, if a girl is involved, we are completely wrong, no matter what we have to say or think. Another great part about women in high school, is they get all done up, looking very attractive, but we aren’t allowed to look. And the only ones who do allow us to look are the ones who are just plain sluts, and we get made fun of for looking at them anyways. But how is it fair for all the girls to wear push up bra’s that create a cleavage like the grand canyon, then they throw some sparkles and makeup on their tits, and yell at us if we look at them. But then they get depressed if nobody looks at them because that means they aren’t sexy. Once girls reach college, it gets a little better, they figure out what they want a little more, mature a little more, become a little more open to new things, or to old things that were just not comfortable for them. They figure out what they want is everything but nothing, always something else. They mature a little bit by acting mature and then breaking into a little girl at various times. They become a little more open because there is more alcohol in college. And they either want to just have sex, or have already started looking for a husband. But what is the difference right, they don’t know the difference between those two things anyways, and if they did, they in realistically don’t know which one they want.
Ranting: Halloween Edition
Before you read this blog, take a second and search for one of the following topics on google images: "Red Riding Hood, "cop, "dorothy." Each time you search, you guessed it, there's a slutty female costume on the front page. I'm surprised anybody buys that crap. Every costume is essentially the same shit with different colors: The skirt that is short enough to use as a rubber band and the frilly blouse thing that would only marginally allow you into a "no shirt no shoes no service" restaurant. Throw in a pair or $4 fishnets and heels that are so tall planes have to fly around them and you've got yourself an amazon.com Halloween costume. Where's the originality? The innovation? I haven't seen a new one of those costumes since 'Nam. So, fucking fail costume designers, I present to you: The Best Costumes of 2009!
I feel like it's a great idea to incorporate current events into costume ideas (CHALLENGE: Try to spot 10 Billy Mays costumes on Halloween night!). What beter event to remind everyone of than the balloon boy? Take off with this sexy lady that looks freakishly similar to the hot blonde stewardess in Snakes on a Plane. All the guys will be wanting to spend the day in YOUR attic when you dazzle them with this great balloon buy costume. Only $19.95!
2009 is the year of costume revolution. Gone are the days of boring cop, cheerleader, and firefighter costumes. This year, try our brand new GREEN firefighter costume. Have you ever seen a firefighter wear green? We didn't fucking think so. Hell, wear some green lipstick like the girl in the picture. Eat some goddamn asparagus for all I care. It's green and original and you won't be wearing the same costume as that stupid bitch Paige Flegwood. What a whore. She totally copied your totally original 'sexy tennis player' costume idea. And then she had the balls to make out with Travis! It's time to show that slutbag who's the real queen of green. BUY IT! AAH!!! $55.99
Every girl is trying to make a statement with their costume, and what better way to do that then dressing as this fully operational battle station? You'll be getting plenty of proton torpedoes dropped down your exhaust pipe this Halloween. Includes battery powered tractor beam and light up planet destroying laser. Guys won't be able to repel style of that magnitude! $28.99
-Trevor Seyfried
I feel like it's a great idea to incorporate current events into costume ideas (CHALLENGE: Try to spot 10 Billy Mays costumes on Halloween night!). What beter event to remind everyone of than the balloon boy? Take off with this sexy lady that looks freakishly similar to the hot blonde stewardess in Snakes on a Plane. All the guys will be wanting to spend the day in YOUR attic when you dazzle them with this great balloon buy costume. Only $19.95!
2009 is the year of costume revolution. Gone are the days of boring cop, cheerleader, and firefighter costumes. This year, try our brand new GREEN firefighter costume. Have you ever seen a firefighter wear green? We didn't fucking think so. Hell, wear some green lipstick like the girl in the picture. Eat some goddamn asparagus for all I care. It's green and original and you won't be wearing the same costume as that stupid bitch Paige Flegwood. What a whore. She totally copied your totally original 'sexy tennis player' costume idea. And then she had the balls to make out with Travis! It's time to show that slutbag who's the real queen of green. BUY IT! AAH!!! $55.99
Every girl is trying to make a statement with their costume, and what better way to do that then dressing as this fully operational battle station? You'll be getting plenty of proton torpedoes dropped down your exhaust pipe this Halloween. Includes battery powered tractor beam and light up planet destroying laser. Guys won't be able to repel style of that magnitude! $28.99
-Trevor Seyfried
Blog 2: Abigail Cunningham: Weed in the family
Last night was the first night being here where I missed my mom, we don't really get along but I missed her mommy lovin, so I texted her saying “I love you and miss you”. Instead of getting a loving text back, it said “Your sister was busted with pot. OMG, talk soon!” What the fuck? Thats a great morning wake up to find out that your fourteen year old sister is buying pot. My first reaction to this was that she is so stupid and how could she ever smoke weed in 9th grade? Shes way too young! But then I got to thinking and I definitely started smoking weed freshman year but the thing is I didn't get caught... I mean I was a sly motherfucker..Then my parents caught on in like 11th grade but thats when I started to get sloppy. The key to staying safe around your parents is to only smoke at friends houses, never buy weed or just leave it with a friend and don't act all crazy in front of the family. Its weird that Im here, smoking weed and my sister is back home doing the same thing. I guess drugs are genetic. I know for a fact that both my mom and dad were major potheads so you'd think they'd understand. My parents found my pipe, TWICE, not because I was stupid but because my mom is a little sneak. Both times they freaked out and thought it was soooo insane that a teenager smokes pot with her friends. Now my sister is experiencing the ways of high school where everything is done is secret and you are ALWAYS paranoid. I guess I like college I can do whatever I want, whenever except you gotta watch out for those crazy CSOS....
Blog #2 October 29, 2009
Dear Bloggy,
You may not understand the concept of love and dating because you are just an HTML page but I think I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m destined by the universe to be terrible at it. I think this is partly my parent’s fault for naming me after a contestant on the Love Connection. Yeah good idea naming your son after someone who’s so bad at dating that they have to go on national TV to get find someone to go out with. The universe did teach me one good thing about dating; looks really don’t mater because when you’re a nerd no girl is interested in you. Hiding the nerd factor wouldn’t help because I live in an apartment full of nerds where all our nerd friends hang out and play video games non-stop. Sounds like such a good turn on right? But the nerd dating only gets worse when my best friend and I go to a party and try to pick up on girls. My friend hits on girls and then immediately goes into his comic book lectures about how awesome they are. So when things obviously don’t work out, we start talking to each other about our nerdy shit at warp speed. It feels like we can’t be helped sometimes. We tried being each other’s wing man but this never works either. Your wingman is supposed to have your back, i.e. looking out for you and making sure you’re making the right decisions. You can’t really look out for your buddy when you are more interested in talking to girls yourself. This year I’ve been working on NOT going into the geeky talk, but I’ve developed a worse habit. I’ve been telling bad jokes and doing things that have a more humorous agenda than trying to get on a girls good side. Lately I’ve heard of a concept of DTF and I don’t believe it’s true because a something so wonderful as that could not possibly exist.
Hugs and Kisses XOXOXO,
Jamus Hain
You may not understand the concept of love and dating because you are just an HTML page but I think I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m destined by the universe to be terrible at it. I think this is partly my parent’s fault for naming me after a contestant on the Love Connection. Yeah good idea naming your son after someone who’s so bad at dating that they have to go on national TV to get find someone to go out with. The universe did teach me one good thing about dating; looks really don’t mater because when you’re a nerd no girl is interested in you. Hiding the nerd factor wouldn’t help because I live in an apartment full of nerds where all our nerd friends hang out and play video games non-stop. Sounds like such a good turn on right? But the nerd dating only gets worse when my best friend and I go to a party and try to pick up on girls. My friend hits on girls and then immediately goes into his comic book lectures about how awesome they are. So when things obviously don’t work out, we start talking to each other about our nerdy shit at warp speed. It feels like we can’t be helped sometimes. We tried being each other’s wing man but this never works either. Your wingman is supposed to have your back, i.e. looking out for you and making sure you’re making the right decisions. You can’t really look out for your buddy when you are more interested in talking to girls yourself. This year I’ve been working on NOT going into the geeky talk, but I’ve developed a worse habit. I’ve been telling bad jokes and doing things that have a more humorous agenda than trying to get on a girls good side. Lately I’ve heard of a concept of DTF and I don’t believe it’s true because a something so wonderful as that could not possibly exist.
Hugs and Kisses XOXOXO,
Jamus Hain
Anthony Ishihara blog 2
So today i beat up a little kid. I mean he wasn't that little, he was like 12. Or maybe he was 7? I dont know. Whatever. He was some short kid with a lunchbox and he was hanging out with his little group of friends. So i walk over to the kid and im like, "Hey kid wanna buy some drugs". He doesn't bite. Appearantly this little fucker went through some "anti-drug" program and he learned about all the side affects of drugs, or so he said. But, me, i'm a pushy salesmen so i ask the kid if he knows what crack is. He says, "yes, a very bad drug". After all that i was destroyed. What is the school system teaching these kids. Fuck. They are gonna put me out of bussiness. Distraught, i walk off the playground; the satchel of various contraband on my side, I sit waiting for the next little kid who looks like he could use a "lift" While im sitting there i find my little friend, who decided that drugs were terrible, purchasing dope from the other guy who sells drugs down the street. Outraged, i run over to the scene. I slap the shit out of that little kid and i ask him, "what the fuck is up". He says, "Look at what your wearing, you could get me arrested with an outfit like that". No one talks about my clothes. I piledriver that little guy into the pavement. Then take off like thunder into the alley. I couldnt really stay to see the damage I had done but the story was all over the news. I think i really hurt the guy. Hes gonna want to buy some drugs now.After all that i guess i did learn something today; don't wear your police uniform when your selling drugs on the playground. And next Halloween don't dress up like a cop. Drug dealers make terrible cops.
Bullspit - Julian Burg Blog #2
So I guess I have sort of a bad habit of bullshitting people with a straight face. It’s funny what kind of absurd shit you can make people believe so long as you don’t crack a smile. I thought I’d share a few choice examples. Over the summer a boss of mine found out I like to make music and came up to me like “so hey man, I heard about your little side business… you make music or something?” I just felt like fucking with him so I was like, “oh what, my film score stuff?”
“you do film score?”
“yep.”
“like what have you scored?”
“you know The Wrestler?”
“noo way. That was you?”
“yep.”
“get the fuck out of here. For real?”
“yea, check this out…” (I proceed to do my shitty rendition of the Bruce Springsteen theme song like ‘have you ever seen a one legged dog something something something…’)
“Whoa man, nice!”
“you do film score?”
“yep.”
“like what have you scored?”
“you know The Wrestler?”
“noo way. That was you?”
“yep.”
“get the fuck out of here. For real?”
“yea, check this out…” (I proceed to do my shitty rendition of the Bruce Springsteen theme song like ‘have you ever seen a one legged dog something something something…’)
“Whoa man, nice!”
Well, I let him down easy and told him the truth—that I did NOT, in fact, score The Wrestler, and that I’m pretty positive it doesn’t have a score at all. In fairness though, you wouldn’t expect someone to lie about something as mundane/not tight at all as that, so I don’t really judge him for being gullible.
I’m more likely to judge people, for example, when they believe things like I’m half black and half Puerto Rican. Long story short, I told this to a couple of drunk girls a few months ago and they believed me. To set the record, I would describe myself as, uh, white (double-underlined) and maybe sorta Jewy. I had forgotten that I said this until weeks later when my friend said he was with those girls and my name came up in conversation and they were like, “wait, that half black half Puerto Rican guy?” That shit still cheers me up on rough days.
So I fully own up to bullshitting people, but sometimes I just make what I think is a clear joke and people don’t follow. Yesterday I was getting some food and they asked for my name, and I said Julian. The lady goes, “Julia?” I corrected her, and she says, “oh, hah, that makes a little more sense.” I took the opportunity to make a minor joke and I was like, “yea, I’m actually in a transitional stage. I’m going from Julian to Julia.” I swear I was smiling when I said it though, like all the body language indicators of a joke. The lady looks at me pretty sternly and says, “you know, my daughter did that. Went from Joseph to Joanne. So you can ask me anything you like. You on the hormones yet?”
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