Doing it Bloggy Style

"One morning I woke up and found my favorite pigeon, Julius, had died I was devastated and was gonna use his crate as my stickball bat to honor him. I left the crate on my stoop and went in to get something and I returned to see the sanitation man put the crate into the crusher. I rushed him and caught him flush on the temple with a titanic right hand he was out cold, convulsing on the floor like a infantile retard." - Mike Tyson

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Not Impressed Part Deux: Chilean Miners

So last Friday I started what would evolve into a two part diatribe about things these days that get a shit-ton of attention, yet do not impress me in the least. You may think that this just the incessant griping of a narrow minded ass who refuses to give credit where credit is due. However I will have you know that I prefer the term "rational skeptic". Either way, the focus today will be everybody's favorite feel-good story of the fall, the Chilean Miners.

First of all, let's just establish the fact that being a miner probably sucks a whole lot of ass. I say "probably" because even though I have never been actually been a miner, I do remember after one particular episode of my adolescence where I was most certainly acting like a piece of shit, my father told me that if I didn't feel like pulling my weight at school that I could go work in a *swear word abbreviated with M-F*-ing mine and see how much I like it. The message didn't really resonate, because as fate would have it I grew up to be that same piece of shit but with more consistent facial hair, however the message I loosely gathered from my father's expletive laced lecture was that I actually wouldn't want to be a miner, because being a miner fucking sucks. Being a miner sucks for a number of reasons; your job is to get shipped into caves and deep holes to dig up expensive shit that you don't get to keep. Its dark, presumably stinky, and particularly dangerous. On top of the backbreaking work for little pay, it also sucks to be a miner because most of them have unreasonable curfews, you need parental consent for just about everything fun, you can't buy ciggarettes, and adults naturally never really take you seriously. It really sucks being a miner! (homophone joke, check)

Now that we've established that it sucks to have to be a miner, let's break down what makes the story so unimpressive to me. These 33 copper miners spent 69 days trapped almost a half mile underground. This particular mine was a safety inspector's wet dream, and 8 workers have died on site since 1998. What I find odd about the whole story is that everyone forgets to mention that these 33 idiots got their dumb asses stuck in a fucking hole for more than two months. I've done a lot of stupid shit in my short existence, for example once I dropped the family cat down our laundry chute just to scare my poor mother (success), but I never got myself stuck 2000+ feet below the surface of the earth. Going one half mile into the ground and using giant tools to violently shake the earth above you when every safety inspector and their mother has deemed the mine completely unsafe, is, actually a really stupid thing to do. You may think that it wasn't really up to them to decide because it was an essential function of their job, but I think that claim could be easily refuted by pointing out that they maybe they should have chose not to work in a fucking mine. "Well Chile has an enormous mining industry that represents about 1/3 of their national income, and thus employs a significant amount of Chilean natives". Hmmm, well then maybe those guys should have had the foresight not to be born in Chile. How's that for logic? Eat your fucking heart out Socrates.

No matter how you choose to look at it, these guys, adults mind you, spent 69 straight days dicking around in a hole. You know what happens if an American kid spent a prolonged amount of time sitting in a hole? The kid's parents get a call from his school counselor telling them that their son is going to start getting picked up in a considerably shorter bus in the morning.

We were constantly being informed as to the developments of the rescue efforts, and how the 33 men trapped beneath a half mile of earth were doing. What we forget to mention is they got to spend 69 straight days presumably not working. 69 days in a row with no work? Under any other circumstances that's called taking the summer off. Not half bad if you ask me, especially when you think about the fact that they probably haven't had a day off in a long time, being that their Chilean and whatnot. Also, its not as if these guys were trapped on a mountaintop and forced to eat the weak and wounded, they were pretty much just hanging out. While they were down there they were able to watch DVD's and Chilean soccer games on a 50 inch projection screen all day. Literally, that's not even a joke. Where I come from that's called Saturday. And, amongst many other things that were sent down to them from the surface was a set of speakers and iPods so they could listen to and enjoy their Ricky Martin or whatever. (But Joe, these guys are from Chile, Ricky Martin is from Puerto Rico! Chilean, Puerto Rican, its all just semantics. You say buh-ree-toe, I say buh-rih-toe). 69 days in a mine, where the daily routine consisted of A.) not having to mine shit, which we have already established tends to suck, and B.) spending said days off listening to music and watching DVD's and soccer games. Sounds like a vacation to me. Now a lot of people would say that being stuck in a copper mine away from your loved ones and in constant darkness isn't exactly an ideal vacation, but for fuck's sake these 33 guys aren't exactly the Kennedy's either. Its not like they're used to hopping a jet to Acapulco for a week of fun in the sun and swimming with dolphins, they work in a fucking mine in Chile. Its really easy to see being stuck 2,000+ feet below the earth as a terrible thing, but let's nto forget that there are some perks, few but substatial, to living in subterreanean mine. First of all, they didn't need to worry about getting melanoma, which is comforting because it happens to cause more than 3/4ths of skin cancer related deaths. What a relief. In addition, these Chilean miners didn't have to worry about catching bed bugs (yucky) or getting mugged along the roads by masked banditos.

I think the reason why I am so frustrated with these dickheads is because it has become pretty clear that they're all going to get fucking rich from this. Before they were even on the surface peolpe were already sending them ridiculous amounts of free shit. Steve Jobs sent them all iPads, because that's totally practical and all. So far over 15 professional sports teams have asked them to be their guests at games. I can only assume that Ernesto or Osvaldo is a big Philadelphia 76ers fan (I made that up). Its only a matter of time until someone gets a book deal, and people pretend to be captivated by their survival story again so they can justify buying that Kindle they barely ever use. You'll never catch me reading it, and ya know why? Because it will probably be in Spanish, that's why, duh. To be honest this whole thing reeks of Sully Sullenberger, the US Airways pilot deemed a hero in 2008 for landing a commercial airliner in the Hudson River after the engines were damaged by a flock of birds. He reached hero status, promptly retired from the airline, appeared as a guest at sporting events, wrote a book, and now makes a ton of cash as a motivational speaker. Essentially, this guy got paid for having a select few moment s of clear-headed resolve. What he should have done was not hit a fucking flock of birds, a pretty essential and fundemental task if you want to be a commercial airline pilot. People were so astonished that he was able to get his shit together for a minute and land the plane in the Hudson, which may I remind you is 4,700 feet wide. Taking out the space occupied by the plane, landing in the Hudson River gave him a margin of error wider than 86% of a mile. Phew!

All I'm saying is that I'm not exactly blown away by your resilience when you got your own dumb asses stuck in a fucking hole deep beneth the surface of the Earth. I'm even less impressed by your resilience and will to survive when you got to fiddledick around for 69 straight days, listening to iPods and watching soccer games on a 50 inch projection screen. Plus,, I'm glad you couldn't mine any more copper, because copper makes pennies, and pennies are annoying and make your hands smell gross. So guess what Chilean Miners, not that impressed.

Friday, October 22, 2010

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


Tuesday, October 12, 2010

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?

Thursday, September 9, 2010

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

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

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

Monday, August 2, 2010

People Watching

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

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