Not That Impressed Part 1: Marathon Runners

Are you there internet? It's me, Joe.

I started this post last week but I had to edit it for the sake of brevity, and because before I finished it I saw something else equally as unimpressive getting ass-tons of attention. Thus, I decided to shorten them and turn them into one solitary post. You're going to come out as as the winner on this because I know how you kiddies eat up my ignorant griping like Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Now I must warn you, this post might just make you think I'm a pretentious asshole, but hey, the egg's on your face because I am. I'm joking, but seriously.

Like I stated before last week I bore witness to two groups of people receiving outpourings of affection from the masses, and I couldn't help but say to myself, "eh, not that impressed". And since I'm a part time blogger and full time dickhead, I decided to write a little bit about it. I don't expect to you to side with me 100%, because society says that would make you a total shitbag, but I find it hard to believe that you can totally dissagree with my following sentiments.

Last Monday I found myself feeling the more unimpressed than I have in a long time. The day before, thousands of people came together for the annual running of the Chicago Marathon. Why was it that I saw an almost uncountable amount of people walking around the city in the t-shirt they got from participating in the race. Dude we get it, you ran the marathon, but now its time you got over yourself. I can't help but think that the people walking around with their free marathon shirt the very next day afterward happen to be the very same people that shoved the fact down everyone's throat in the months leading up to it. My biggest gripe with marathon runners is that they would like you to think that by completing marathon they are either a superior person to you, or a superior athlete. To which I reply, "No Col. Sanders, you're wrong!".

Now don't get me wrong, running 26.2 miles no matter your time is a feat that I can respect, but what I don't respect is the smug, self-involved attitude that so often comes with it. "Hey guys, did you hear I'm running the marathon this year?". Yeah I think I remember some of the hundred times you casually dropped that tidbit into conversation. It was also kinda hard to miss all the obnoxious Facebook status updates you posted like, "Ugghhh, terrible day at work and now I have to run 15 miles :( ". Which reminds me, if you chose to train and run a marathon you probably should keep the complaints to a minimum.

I had plenty of friends that ran and hats off to all of them because, as I said before its a comendable physical challenge, but let's not get ahead of ourselves and call it significant. You know what would make it significant? If you won the marathon, that would get a great congratulations from me. However, seeing as though you are not some Kenyan guy, you're just Frankie Fuckface who just decided to run because he thought it would be cool, you're going to get very little out of me. I get it, you pushed yourself to your physical limit, but so did 41,000 other people, and that was just on a Sunday. A lot of people would say that I'm missing the point, and that its about pushing themselves to their personal best, But if that was the case then why are the same people constantly talking about it. If it was just about pushing yourself then why is it necessary for everyone and their mother to know ou ran the fucking marathon? I don't even really want to get started on the amount of time you dedicted to this whole thing; the fact that most, if not all of you spent such an exorbitant amount of time training for this race baffles me. I simply cannot justify spending that much time every day just running, and anyone who can has been eating retard-burgers. I dont know exactly what I did with all the time I was not training for the marathon, but I guarantee it was way more productive, even if all I was doing was playing with sock puppets in my apartment and making up songs about my penis. Don't snicker, that right is afforded to my as an American.

 Another aspect of the marathon runner buttfuck-a-palooza are the people that guilt you into supporting them because they are running for a cause. I just don't feel as though I should have to give you money just because you don't have any discernable hobbies. "Hey did you hear I'm running the marathon for Lupus research?". Yeah I heard you the other 1000 times you mentioned it, and I still don't care enough to even google what lupus is. If I cared at all about either you or the cause I would just ask you where I can donate money, but you wouldn't want that, because then you wouldn't be able to put all the focus on yourself. Listen dude, you aren't Forrest Gump, don't tell me you were all of a sudden overcome with the urge to just go run, and (insert charity here) was that reason. Don't get me wrong, I'm in no way saying you shouldn't support a charitable cause, but don't make it my burden just because you decided you wanted to run the marathon, because that's selfish and I learned in preschool that being selfish gets a free admission to the time out chair. It's not that they're running for a charity, its that they have the whole idea backwards; the concept of running to support anything, is that you're participation in the event is supposed to draw people's attention to the cause, but from what I have gathered, an overwhelming amount of said people run for a charity so that a larger group of friends and colleagues with commend them for running in a hard race. Essentially, if you decided to use the veil of a charity to draw attention to the fact that you voluntarily elected to run the marathon then you my friend, are a supreme piece of shit.

I have always found it strange that people think they need to go do something extreme to get obligate others to give money or attention to something, and I think this is especially true when it comes to marathons. Since I was in kindergarten I have participated in sports, and over that period of time I have realized that for the most part, running fucking sucks. Running is what coaches made kids like me do for dicking around at practice, fucking up, and just acting like a shithead in general. I always wondered why people would just run as their athletic activity, but then it dawned on me; running is a great sport for people who conveniently suck at sports. Now I'm not saying you aren't an athlete if all you do is run, no far from it, being a runner and an athlete are certianly not mutually exclusive. All I'm saying is that my sister ran Track and Cross Country in High School and she is possibly the slowest and least athletic person I know. Whatever, that's beside the point. Running a marathon is great and all, but don't for a minute think that it makes you better than me at anything. I even saw people wearing their marathon medals to work. You know what that say to me? "hey everyone look at me, I'm really good at running for long periods of time without stopping!" Well ya know what else that makes you good at? Being a fucking dork. Marathon runner? Not impressed.

You know what's impressive? That mofo Karl malone


Ridiculous 1980's music Video of the day


Not Impressed Part Deux coming soon
SSB

Someone Needs To Go Back To Rhet/Comp

 This picture has nothing to do with my post, but for some reason when I look at it my pants fit a little more snug and I suddenly feel like I really have to pee. Who knows?

Bathroom Breakdown

For those of you who have had the pleasure of knowing me you may vaguely remember, and in fact would be hard pressed to forget the fact that fart jokes and potty humor seemingly consume my attention. I know, shocking right? This coming from the guy who once described in vivd detail, watching one of his best friends expell liquid poo from his ass off of a 2nd story balcony. Never in a million years!

Poop, feces, doodoo, shit, farts, sharts, diarrhea, crap sandwiches. You're either picturing it in your head or making the noise right now. I don't care what anyone else says because if you deny it you're a liar. It really doesn't matter how ma-tuuure you think you are, poop related activity produces a chuckle at the least (Except when stepped in or found in your food, and in which case poop is similar to plane crashes or herpes; its still funny to everyone except the involved party). Now coming towards the end of my 24th year of existence I can safely say with the utmost confidence in my mastery of mathematics that poop=laughs. No pun intended but certainly applicable, "That shit is funny".

However I think sometimes I forget one of the main aspects of bathroom humor, and that is the bathroom itself. I have so many memories of goofs-a-plenty happening in various bathrooms in my past. I'm not talking about a women's bathroom, because for all I know there could be a German discoteca in those things. I do think that before continuing I must make a very important distinction; public vs. private bathrooms.

For men at least, private bathrooms serve a number of purposes; its really our library, command center, and place of contemplation and relaxation all wrapped into one. Its our special place...our special place that we poop in. Public bathrooms are a completely different bird. As I have pointed out in numerous posts as well as overall life experiences, the word "public", especially when placed in front of a noun, usually can be substitued for "fucking gross". Ergo, public bathrooms typically follow suit. Although having to bear the brunt of what naturally goes along with the public moniker, there is an upside to a bathroom shared with the masses; a lot more funny things happen in a public bathroom.

Just to start, I'm going to go off on a little anecdotal tangent. I know you're probably thinking to yourself, "A tangent sounds great considering the fact he's clearly dedicated this entire post to poop". Well, in May of '08 I was flying back to Milwaukee but I had a changeover in Minneapolis MN. It was really early in the morning and the airport Minneapolis airport was a relative ghost town, and I found myself incredibly bored waiting for my plane. I decided that I should buy a magazine and flip through a few articles while I drop a deuce. I find the closest bathroom to my gate and go inside. After a short period of time I start to notice an amount of traffic that didn't really go with the relative few people I had previously seen in the terminal. Maybe you remember, maybe you live in a cave but a year prior Idaho Senator Larry Craig had been arrested for soliciting gay sex from an undercover cop in a men's room at an airport. In fact I distintcly remember various news reports referring to the particular bathroom he was caught in as, and I kid you not, "A hotbed of homosexual activity". Let's be honest, that's a PC way of saying "There's a lot of dudes blowing a lot of other dudes in this bathroom". As I'm remembering this I start to get just a little nervous, and I type a text to my a friend that said "Hey, what airport did that Senator get caught trying to get a bj from some guy in a bathroom". All the while the words "hotbed of homosexual activity" keep slamming into my brain. Not 30 seconds later I get a response that says one word, "Minneapolis". In an instant I am wiped, zipped, and out the fucking door. Now, I understand that there's probably hundreds of bathrooms in that airport, and only one of them was deemed High Noon at the BJ Corral, so I was proably being way over-cautious. For the most part I consider myslef a betting man, but you'll never catch me wagering my cornhole, that's a god damned fact. One of many specific instance where my opinion of something "public" is 100% correct.

Anywhoo, let's leave the Minneapolis Mouth Party behind and get back to the esteemed topic of poop and bathrooms. One thing I've noticed in the last few years is the very unique concept of the workplace bathroom. Its a unique hybrid type of public bathroom where only a select few people are allowed to use it, yet its still much different from your private shitter. I have a hard time characterizing it; its not a sanctuary and its not a petri dish, its just...different.

Recently I took a new job and I can't halp but think every day about how odd the bathroom situation is. One particular situation happened the other day; I was sitting in a stall and a co-worker sat down as if to do a No. 2, but all he did was fart and then proceed to take the longest pee I have ever heard. It rivaled Jimmy Dugan's record piss in "A League of Their Own", all while sitting down. I simply could not get over how weird the whole thing was. In this new position I work for a group of fund managers that all make very large scale investment decisions, and tend to make a lot of money doing so. On the other hand I am at the bottom of the food chain and do not make very much money, however once through those bathroom doors, we are equals.

The funny part is, I'm sitting in my stall while the rich men who control this serious atmosphere, all the while these guys are all audibly evacuating their bowels. Enormous morning craps, boisterous farts, and all sorts of other rumblings are going on, and for some reason I feel complelled to hold back. I've already established that poop and farts are hysterical and always will be, but yet I don't dare let out a laugh. I'm dying in the stall holding in laughter that is ripping at my sides. I ask myself every day why I can't get past my feeling that I need to silence my giddy childlike glee as I listen to guys these guys uncork a symphony of ass. But then one day it hit me; its not like anyone in the company is deaf, and when there are 4 guys in the bathroom that means everyone must hear every single grunt, splash, squirt, and sweet sigh of relief. This can really only mean one thing, everybody in there is holding back from bursting out laughing just like I am.

I think that may even make the whole thing even funnier imagining 4 grown men all holding in schoolboy laughter while the listen to their respected colleagues take nasty shits. Maybe knowing that we're not supposed to laugh is what makes the whole thing so fucking hysterical. In a way its sort of like how everything is exponentially funnier when you're with your classmates in church; knowing your friend next to you might burst out before you do is half the fun.

So next time you're in a work bathroom go ahead and feel free to throw caution to the wind and blast that toilet with all your might, because, let's be honest, "That shit is funny".



See Ya Internet,
SBB

Miss Me Much?

I've gotten a few text and emails asking why I haven't posted anything recently. I that after almost a year now you're all accustomed to having me blast you knowledge all over you like some kind of horny wizard, but honestly this one isn't my fault. I haven't been able to keep up the frequency of my posts lately due to my serious lack of a functioning computer. Why is that you ask? Well maybe my deeply rooted need for barely legal foreign smut has finally given my laptop a death virus? Maybe I sold my computer to some weird african guy from my neighborhood for $100? The reason why is beside the point, but soon I will be coming back like John McLean in the third installment of the Die Hard series; with a g-d vengance.

Trust me, I've seen some whacky shit in the last month and I'm more than excited to tell all you little bitches about it soon. You'll probably be so happy from all the ROFL-ing and LOL-ing that you'll be begging to S my D ASAP.


To entertain you for the time being I have included some of my favorite recent videos, both of which revolve around the most wonderful dance of all time... The Dougie


and a dougie Amateur gets what he deserves...


Dougie Out
SBB

People Watching

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Booty Pop and the Art of Being Lawyered

Are you there internet? It's me, Joe. I'll admit that for the last few weeks I have been rather sporadic with my posting so far this summer. Only to highlight my lack of posting, I was forced to delete one of my longer narrative tales, some of my best work if I do say so myself. I decided it was best to take it down because of the amount of people contacting me trying to find out who the mystery girl was. Assuming that it would probably eventually get back to her, and knowing that females as a gender are irrational beings, she might just freak out. Personally the whole thing was meant as a compliment, but whatever, no skin off my ass, wait errrrrr....that sounded gay.


Now, if you are the kind of person whose initial reaction to hearing anything potentially negative about females is to call someone a male-chauvinist then just hear me out. Also, I'm wondering why you are even reading this right now because you probably think I'm a rapist (is it weird that I'm mobile-blogging from my van?)


Anywhoo, as for my lack of posting recently all I can say is that I'm sorry, but this summer I've been feeling a little uninspired. That is until today.


I was watching True Life today and I heard a mother tell her daughter that women have sex with their heart while men have sex with their peepees (exact words). Well I'm 23 and I can tell you that in the half-dozen or so times I've had sex, never once has my penis touched a wet  tight heart. Never went down and ate a woman's heart. Am I doing it wrong? Judging by the amount of porn I've seen in my day I just don't think so.


I have had an ongoing discussion with a friend of mine over the last few months and we have come to the conclusion that women like to tell themselves that they are fundamentally different from men when it comes to the concept of sex. You may be wondering what the hell I am talking about, well let me indulge you...


It happens all the time, just about every guy and every girl has been a part of this very scenario; a guy walks up to a girl in a bar and his intentions are pretty clear but it uaually ends with... "Whatever, nice try weirdo but nobody here is interested". The the girl turns back to her friends and vents over her crantini about how every time they go out they get hit on by some random guy, and how there are no good relationship quality men around for her or her friends. Yeah, you're all just a bunch of victims. As a guy I can attest to the fact that the male half of the human species will pretty much have sex with anything. As a matter of fact there are a few women on this earth that as long as they let me I wouldn't have much of a problem poking my peener into flesh wound somewhere on their body, but do with that what you will.


That being said, what my friend and I don't seem to understand is why so many women constantly go through life pretending as if men's advances are so unwanted; deep down her and I both know she came to this bar for the exact same reason I did. You came out because you were hoping that you might find someone in the same situation, someone that might just want to have sex with you. Yeah huh, it sure is so just admit it to yourself. If I just wanted to get drunk with some friends we wouldn't each be spending $100 and elbowing every asshole in town to get the bartender's attention. Nope we'd be at someone's apartment drinking two cases, but like I said before we're all here for the same reason. If you don't agree with me yet just ask yourself this, why did you spend 2 hours getting ready? Why did you get so dressed up? Why are you wearing shoes that make you look like a Chinese foot binder? Why on God's green earth would you ever get a wax? If you say you do these things to look and feel good that's a bold faced lie and you know it because if that was the case you would dress like that by yourself at home. Yeah and I came here and started talking to you because I desperately need another friend in my life that vehemently refuses to have sex with me. You did all those things so that when you came here, whether you realize it or not, because you want some of that ass.


Sure there are plenty of differences between men and women, but the fact that we came here to get busy isn't one of them. If that's the case (and it is) then why do so many women convince themselves that they are fundamentally different? How can women and men possibly not see perfectly eye-to-eye on this? How could we actually be that different? After all we are both over 99% genetically identical as chimps, and chimps may I remind you, throw feces at each other. 


There's a point, I swear.


Since we're both here at this bar for a reason, I find it so puzzling that women have convinced themselves they're so above the situation while complaining to their friends over a riesling about nobody in the bar is relationship worthy. "If another guy comes up to me trying to fuck me I'm going to flip. What a creep!". You know what, that's fine because you shouldn't have to feel the brunt of every horny guy but the fact that it happens to you doesn't for a minute give you the right to act like you're any better. What I think women don't want men to know is that the only thing really holding up their transparent claim that they're out dolled up at the bar and not looking to bump is their ability to easily take the high road. They can shut you down because they can make you think (and make themselves think the same) that they are here for a completely different reason. That is until we found out about these...I give you the mother fucking booty pop. 


Are you fucking serious? A Booty Pop. Intentions have ever been more clear. Don't even try the "I just want my clothes to fit better" defense. Yeah, that's why I stuff socks down the crotch of my khakis, to make them fit better. You bought them, just like you have push-up bras because you don't think guys will be interested in you unless you have bigger tits or a fat ass. You're not here for sex in some way shape or form? Ah Hah! Fact. Kaboom. You've been lawyered.  If I ever went home with someone and found out they were wearing a booty pop I would (assuming my penis doesn't wilt while making a the same noise a baloon makes while deflating) I would make her keep them on, cut a whole in the back and fuck her straight up her booty-pop ass. Oh yeah, and I would tell every single person I know.


Amirite? Amirite? Honestly SBB would like to hear what the fairer sex has to say on the matter, so post it as a comment and just try not to be too much of a bitch about it. Ok, great!


Obnoxiously 80's video of the day, from Icehouse

Yo homes, smell ya lata
SBB

Merking of the Year

As this summer has rolled into full swing here in July I have realized that SBB has been up for over 8 months. Since this blog is my proverbial baby I can't help at the juncture but to make the analogy that my little baby is crowning. (I can see it now, its little head poking out...its...its...a blog! A blog with a gigantic weiner!) See what I did there?

Low brow pregnancy joke, check.

Lately I've been thinking to myself, in between sending chain emails laced with bizarre smut and stealing neighborhood children's pets, that something may be missing from my blog baby SBB. Then it came to me; with the amount of senseless awards that are handed out seemingly every day, why shouldn't I give an annual award? Well Joe, how can you give out awards when you don't really know anyone. Who would you give them to? You have 3 friends, two of which are imaginary and the last one being a goldfish. Silence yourself you silly little pixie living behind my ear! Where did you come from anyway? You never used to criticize me when I was still boning the chubby pharmacist technician at CVS for continuous refills of my special special pills. 

Low brow paranoid schizophrenia and substance abuse joke, check.

Since my blog seems to serve as the voice of my ridiculous opinions and my observations of life from atop my high horse, I think that it would only be fitting if my awards followed suit. To decide what the award should be given for I had to go back and think of some of the things I have seen happen this calendar year. After countless hours of mulling it over mastur de-bating it in my head I came to a decision...

Low brow whackin it joke, check.

I think the one thing that has pervaded the entire span of 2010 has been the incredible amount of large scale merkings that have happened. For those of you who aren't hip enough to be familiar with my suburban prep school hybrid version of ebonics that so many of us white breads like to speak, a merking is when someone or something receives an ass-smashing of epic and embarrassing proportions. Not to be confused with a merkin, but we'll get into that at another date. To better illustrate the interpretation of someone or something getting merked I have provided some examples...


Tommy Zbikowski handing out a merking in the ring...

II Kings 2:23-24: The Biblical merking

²³ From there Elisha went up to Bethel. As he was walking along the road, some youths came out of the town and jeered at him. "Go on up, you baldhead!" they said. "Go on up, you baldhead!" ²⁴ He turned around, looked at them and called down a curse on them in the name of the LORD. Then two bears came out of the woods and mauled forty-two of the youths.

Get the idea? 42 children being mauled by bears; straight merking. Well, then without further adieu I give you, the nominees thus far for Merking of the Year 2010.

1.) Haiti. We got the year started off with one whopper of a merking. In January a giant earthquake destroyed the capital city of Port -au-Prince and an estimated 200,000 people died. All over the place people were raising money for aid for the survivors of the ginormous merking they were handed. I guess it takes a natural disaster to guilt humanity into recognizing that everything about Haiti sucks. It was a giant pile of stinky poverty before the earthquake, and now the homeless survivors have to clean up an entire city of ruins and 200,000 dead bodies. Haiti was so merked that George Clooney pooled all of his self-important buddies for a Save Haiti telethon; pretty selfish to ask normal citizens for their hard earned dollars when we all saw you and your buddies steal hundreds of millions of dollars from all those casinos. Haiti, seriously merked.


2.) Lindsay Lohan. I never would've thought that the girl the unstoppable set of redhead boobs from Mean Girls could fall so far. What can I say that hasn't already been said; she fell from "I'm a pseudo-lesbian coke whore" tree and hit every branch coming down. Studios won't hire her, androgynous DJ's wont date her, and as of last week after 2 DUIs and 9 probation violations she is being sent to the bootyhouse. What I never understood was why law enforcement never looked into her British identical twin for some of these crimes, and to imagine Lindsay took the rap for all of them. Its that kind of loyalty that's going to make her a great asset to any one of the many prison gangs she's going to encounter. Lohan: ginger merked.


3.) The Gulf Coast. For 75+ days and counting the deepwater horizon offshore oil drilling site has been spewing oil into the Gulf of Mexico as if if were Kirstie Alley's toilet after an entire afternoon at White Castle. What is so incredible is the fact that this is a merking that just won't stop. It seems like for the last 2.5 months the have sat around shrugging their shoulders and saying "Welp, sorry we merked ya Gulf of Mexico...Fix it? Haha, I mean we'll try, but let's be honest here, we don't have any fucking clue what to do". In a way, watching this thing unfold makes me think of a little kid tapping on a fish tank with his finger and having the whole tank shatter and everything inside pour onto the floor and die, except its not really a fish tank but the Shedd  Aqaurium. Whoopsiedaisy Gulf, sorry for the merking.


And finally...
4.) Anyone within earshot of Mel Gibson. We all thought that this was over when he got pulled over blind drunk in 2006 and unleashed a whirlwind of remarks about his hatred of Jews. Boy were we wrong. In the last 2 weeks we have found out (thanks to his snitchin' ass ex-girlfriend) that Mad Max has a real bad potty mouth, and as it turns out its not just Jews he hates. In his terrible yet incredibly hilarious taped phone conversations he goes on to hand out merk burgers to just about anyone except for exceptional white Catholics like myself. Jews: merked, Mexicans: merked, Blacks: merked, gays: merked, estranged ex-girlfriend's faces and teeth: merked, Mel's career: merked?


So there are the nominees for merking of the year 2010, SBB would love to hear your votes, and none of that liberal hippie "the devastation in Haiti and LiLo's downward spiral shouldn't even be put in the same category" mumbo jumbo because in my world it can. Just view it through my scope, none of these merkings happened to me or have any real direct impact on my life and therefore are funny. Vote on, little bitches.


Ridiculously 80's music video of the day, brought to you by the rocker/space captain Rick Springfield

Merking the interwebs one blog post at a time. 
SBB