Steve, don't eat it!

A coworker just showed me this fun little page. I'm amazed something (other than me) can be funny and so disgusting at the same time. This one is mostly for Little Bear and Sugar Bear, one more tally for the refrigerator board.

Because I needed it.

It is currently 3:32p.m. on Monday. I left work at 10 this morning (8 hours early) to come home and drink with my roommate Big Ben. I'm drunk. We're playing video games. This is why I will always keep my 'drunk on a Monday' playlist. Hooray for playing hookey!

I heart Craigslist.

The following was not written my me. If I don't know this person, I should. Maybe it was Phil...

Manly Bike for Sale

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Date: 2008-07-22, 10:18AM PDT


Bike for sale


What kind of bike? I don't know, I'm not a bike scientist. What I am though is a manly guy looking to sell his bike. This bike is made out of metal and kick ass spokes. The back reflector was taken off, but if you think that deters me from riding at night, you're way wrong. I practiced ninja training in Japan's mount Fuji for 5 years and the first rule they teach about ninja biking is that back reflectors let the enemy know where you are. Not having a rear reflector is like saying "FUCK YOU CAR, JUST TRY AND FIND ME".



The bike says Giant on the side because it's referring to my junk, but rest assured even if you have tiny junk that Giant advertisement is going to remain right where it is. I bought this bike for 300 dollars from a retired mercenary that fought in both World War 1 and World War 2 and had his right arm bitten off by a shark in the Phillipines while stationed there as a shark handler. When he sold it to me I had to arm wrestle him for the honor to buy it. I broke his arm in 7 places when I did. He was so impressed with me he offered me to be his son but I thought that was sissy shit so I said no way.



The bike has some rusted screws, but that just shows how much of a bad ass you are. Everyone knows rusted screws on a bike means that you probably drove it underwater and that's bad ass in itself. Those screws can be replaced with shiny new ones, but if you're going to go to that trouble why not just punch yourself in the balls since you're probably a dickless lizard who doesn't like to look intimidating.



The bike is for men because the seat is flat or some shit and not shaped like a dildo. If you like flat seated bikes you're going to love this thing because it doesn't try to penetrate your ass or anything.



I've topped out at 75 miles per hour on this uphill but if you're just a regular man you'll probably top it out at 10 miles per hour. This thing is listed as a street bike which is man-code for bike tank. The bike has 7 speeds in total:


Gear 1 - Sissy Gear
Gear 2 - Less Sissy Gear
Gear 3 - Least Sissy Gear
Gear 4 - Boy Gear
Gear 5 - Pre-teen Boy Gear
Gear 6 - Manly Gear
Gear 7 - Big Muscles Gear

I only like gear 6 and 7 to be honest.


Additionally, this tool of all immense men comes with a gigantic lock to keep it secure. The lock is the size of a bull's testicles and tells people you don't fuck around with locking up your bike tank. It tells would-be-thieves "Hey asshole, touch this bike and I'll appear from the bushes ready to club you with a two-by-four".

Crazy Pills

I'm eating homemade tofu stir fry for lunch...on purpose.

Candy Bar Wisdom

This is what my candy bar just told me. I think this Snickers bar must have worked for Hydrite Chemical Company...

So true Snickers, so true...

New music. Get it. Now.

I'm back in Wisco from the east coast. The trip was amazing and I'll have more on that later. For now, TV on the Radio came out with a new album, Dear Science, on Tuesday. Buy it!

Hello Annapolis

I guess this story starts out at the beginning of my vacation to the east coast. While waiting to board my flight in Chicago I heard those words so dreaded by air travelers everywhere: 'blah blah blah overbooked blah blah relinquish seat blah blah.' Being that I was on vacation and didn't really give a shit I moseyed my way over to the counter to selflessly offer my ticket to a needy orphan flier. Upon giving the flight attendant woman a sly wink and full-on Papa Bear charm, she kindly upgraded my flight to first class. Holla. Yes, this has relevance to my story.

Slightly after takeoff a different lovely flight attendant offered me a delicious beverage of my choice. I chose bourbon. My love of all things whiskey knows no bounds so I drank that up with gluttonous speed. I proceeded to drink five more glasses of whiskey on my 80 minute flight.

I landed at BWI around 8pm local time with all six glasses of whiskey in my happy belly and let Sinko know that we didn't need to stop at his place for anything, just continue on to the bars. After a few rounds of shots and a couple big boy beers (40 oz domestic taps) some of his lady friends showed up. I don't actually remember meeting any of these women but they informed me days later that they were there and I talked to all of them.

Upon leaving the bar I noticed a candy store and realized that I needed fudge; I didn't want it, I needed it. The fudge shop was obviously closed but Papa Bear is not easily deterred. I found an alley and spider scaled my way up to the third floor where I was able to get a toe-hold on the ledge. I then opened a window (which may or may not have been locked) and climbed inside. So now I'm wandering around in this crazy building where the second and third floors are (luckily for me) being renovated. I hear Sinko ask where I am so I throw the window open and tell him not to worry, I'm right here.
The girl he's with freaked out at this point so I climbed out the second floor window and jumped off the kickout onto the street level. Now, I do feel the need to confess that I was so drunk I didn't even realize that what I was doing is not okay in society. It's not that I knew I was doing something wrong and didn't care about the consequences, I just didn't even consider what I had been doing to be wrong. That changed roughly 15 seconds later when a guy came up to me and told me I might want to leave because someone just called the police. Damn you Maryland and your silly silly do-gooders.