Find a Friend

As you get older, it can be so hard to find a true friend. So many people either already have a group of friends with their own inside jokes and their complicated intertwined relationships that when you make friends with one person suddenly you have to make friends with lots of people and that’s a whole thing. Other times you meet someone who seems cool but maybe it just doesn’t work out for some reason. And sometimes it’s just plain hard to meet anyone! Friendships aren’t that much different than romantic relationships when you think about it. They’re a huge investment of time and energy and it’s always hard to find one that you really care about and at the end of the day they might just end up being crazy or hurtful or not liking you enough. So what I say is why leave it up to chance? Get yourself a friend that you can rely on. Oh, he might not be perfect, but all I have to do is go find a VCR in the basement, hope that it still works, and BOOM, now I have a friend. He’s even wearing a sweater! I love my new friend because I’m super sad and at this point I don’t things could possibly get any worse.

Do What You Do

Hey, it’s a tough world out there, you guys. JUST ASK OSAMA BIN LADEN, AM I RIGHT? Sorry. But it is a tough world out there. When it comes right down to it, most people are just doing their best to get through the day, and we should all be so lucky as to find one thing that makes us happy in this world. No one else is gonna do it for us! So, if dressing up in footy pajamas and installing a reinforced bottom to a child’s playpen so that it can support 350 pounds of man weight is what’s going to get you from sunup to sundown without blowing your brains out, more Pedialite to you. Here’s one thing, though: if that IS the thing that makes you happy, when the National Geographic camera crew comes around asking if you’ll allow them to film you taking a nappy-nappy in your big boy’s crib, please at least know that “no” is one of the things you can tell them. Keep that one in your back diaper pocket!

I do like that National Geographic doesn’t go into too much detail about how Stanley is able to afford spending HALF HIS LIFE as an adult baby, or where he met Sandra, or any of a million other questions this segment raises, but they do make sure to explain that he doesn’t wear a diaper when he goes out to run errands so as to avoid public humiliation. Uh, pretty sure that was the one thing that did NOT need any further explanation. Feel like we all would have totally been on the same page with why he doesn’t run his errands in a diaper.

Good luck, Stanley!

Insanity

Missy Misdemeanor Elliot is making Vlogs now I guess

-David

A New Kind of Crazy

Genus: Small humanoid. Sub-species of Vegans, also related to Hippies and Hipsters
Attacks: Excessive talking, razor-sharp nipples
Special Attacks: Crazy eyes
Special Qualities: Posting splits, random pec flexing, not knowing what’s going on
Skills: Expert smugness, Long-distance running, Fatty shaming
Feats: Mountain bench-pressing (Consult rule-book. Dungeon Master’s discretion)
Environment: Brooklyn, Denver, Portland OR, state parks
Treasure: Small fruits like dates and oranges, video recording device, jean shorts

You Want Cats?

Of course you want cats.

Cats for sale! Hot cats for sale! If you live in the Winnipeg area and you have been waiting for JUST THE RIGHT MOMENT to get into cat hoarding or you simply have holes in your couch, now is the perfect time to buy!

-David

Well Sorrrriiiiiiiiieeeeeeeee....

Denise Crull Is Our Generation’s Antoine Dodson

Nothing Makes Any Sense

Birds is falling from the sky. Death is bubbling up from the lake, killing all the fishes.
Everything is dying.
People are getting REAL nervous about it. One day it is hot and the next day it is cold. It’s hard to keep up. Meanwhile, Mel Gibson lives in what one assumes is a beautiful home and in the very least is definitely not a jail cell. If the world ever made sense it certainly stopped long ago. Now it’s just spinning in circles. Did you know that in South America the maps are upside down? I mean, they’re right-side up for them, it’s not a judgement I’m making, I’m just saying if we can’t even agree on a universal mapping system of this place, we were probably doomed to be mystified and destroyed by it from the very beginning. One woman collects so much toilet paper that she needs an entire room dedicated to storing it, and she calls this room The Toilet Paper Room, and someone else, a HUMAN BEING comes into her house and interviews her about it. He seems really excited, too, about all the brands. There are a lot of them, it’s true. We’re dead meat.

Not to be a bitch but are the terrible bangs he has happening a part of the dog fantasy? I dont think so.

Hello Soul Mate

Over time, I have definitely found that what I am attracted to has changed. The more that I come to know myself, the more that I can finally pinpoint what exactly it is that I’m looking for in a partner, you know? So, like, I used to think that I wanted someone who shared my taste in books, or who knew how to cook, or who had a welcoming family that I could get to know and become a part of. Now, most of that stuff doesn’t matter as much to me.

My other half can read whatever she wants, it doesn’t have any affect on what I’m reading. If she can’t cook, I dont give one single shit. There are plenty of people who can, they are called professional chefs and they’re all over the place.

And I’ve got a family, turns out I don’t need a second one.

At this point in my life, what I’ve finally come to understand is that the person I’ve been looking for all my life is someone who will spend upwards of five days in a tent outside of a strip-mall Best Buy in Florida waiting for a discount on a fucking TV.

Soul mates.

liar liar

Not trying to get up in anyone’s business, but if you are dealing with a situation where you want to disguise your caller ID, disguise your voice, and know whether or not the other person is lying or not, you might be dealing with a situation for which your cellphone is no longer that useful. What kind of person would want this?

“You know what, I’m just going to buy this weird card, disguise my caller ID, make myself sound like the dude in Screamy Movie 4, activate the patented lie detector software, and record my call. That ought to solve everything, in this perfectly routine situation that we all find ourselves in.

Good Morning

First thing Monday morning is a perfectly reasonable time to be reminded that we have to get out there and fight for what we want, you guys. Which, apparently, is to be the best at our jobs as salesmen of something. I did not know this, but did you know that we are all in a sales business? I never knew! Always Be Knowing That, you guys. Coffee is for people who knew that. Are you amped? Let’s just get a quick show of hands to see who is and who is not AMPED.

David

its called light working

Okay 2012 is coming sooner then we thought, as told by your mom.

-David

Rapz

Of course all rap music just sounds like just plain noise to me, and I prefer the smooth stylings of Benny Goodman, but even I notice that this music gets worse when foreign people try to do it.

David

We should all be so lucky to find something in the world that makes us happy.
-David

Bussiness As Usual

Just a regular Wednesday morning. No big deal. Just totally regular Wednesday morning stuff. I’m not sure that sheet on the couch is protecting ANYTHING

-David

Charades!

Opportunities to step away from his wasted life had become essential and while Daniel admired the competitive nature of his teammates, he began to despise them more and more with every guess. Why the sense of urgency? Why not let the game progress at a leisurely pace? He was enraged.

“Ketchup bottle!” one of them finally screamed and just like that, he was boring old Daniel again.

The daily grind would be upon him soon enough and though he hated himself for it, Daniel knew that he would think fondly of his time as a ketchup bottle in the coming weeks. It would occur most likely in the shower during bouts of stretching his penis out in a futile effort to match the proportions of his widening belly.

Diffrent Strokes

You know, the thing that people didn’t talk a lot about during the whole Chilean Miner Crisis/Celebration 2010 was how weird it is for people to even be in the MOLTEN CORE OF THE PLANET in the first place. You know what I mean? Like, we are all very glad that things worked out the way that they did in the end (especially this guy) but it’s a strange world, to say the least, where the world’s eyes are fixed on a straw-sized tube in the ground through which human beings travel like bubble tea through a mile of rock from this tiny hole where they spent three months wondering how their brains hadn’t melted out their ears yet. You know? I’m not saying that I understand the intricacies of certain resource requirements that our modern global lifestyles demand of our sad sweet planet, or the difficult and risky methods by which we secure those things so that our iPads blink in the night. I’m just saying that we can have LIFELIKE dinosaurs in the Jurassic Park movie and yet human beings still have to travel into the heart of darkness and sometimes shit happens and you’re just like fuck.
And so, whether you are on the surface of the planet, or deep within its nightmare confines, you do have to find something to make you happy before you are buried (one way or the other). For example, starting up a YouTube account expressly for the purpose of posting your Aspberger-fueled video tours of midwestern Bed, Bath and Beyond elevators

-David

HELLO Its Called Art

There is, of course, the old statistical allegory in which the idea of an infinite number of possibilities is represented by a dozen monkeys (or one immortal monkey, according to Jorge Louis Borges) banging away at the keys of a dozen typewriters for an infinite amount of time will, eventually, through sheer chance, perfectly recreate every book in the British Museum. It is a cute theorem, and it certainly gets the idea across. But I think that we can all agree that a dozen monkeys (or one immortal monkey, or one million monkeys) recording ad infinitum on a dozen (or one infinitely battery-charged, or one million) FlipCams would never come up with half the shit we’re coming up with these days. YOU CRAZY FOR THIS ONE, METAPHORICAL MONKEYS
-David

Tattoos Are Forever

Hey guys, I just wanted to give everyone a quick, friendly reminder about tattoos: they are forever. Yeah. I know that in our hectic modern world of SEXTING and Razr Scooters that it can be pretty hard to remember everything, and maybe some of you forgot that when you get a tattoo on your body, it is there until your are dead and all of the flesh rots away from your bones and rejoins Mother Gaia. So, say for example, that you wanted to get a gigantic tattoo on your forearm of Antoine Dodson, the subject of a popular Internet meme of the summer of 2010 with absolutely no sustainability: please just keep in mind when you are thinking of doing this that the tattoo of Antoine Dodson is going to be on your body for the rest of your life, long after anyone remembers who Antoine Dodson is, perhaps even long after you remember who Antoine Dodson is, if you happen to succumb to the increasingly pervasive disease of Alzheimer’s. Even if you somehow mange to survive 2012, you’ll be left to float along the water-soaked wastes of humanity’s wreckage with a giant tattoo of Antoine Dodson on your forearm.
In this scenario, one would assume that you would have more pressing concerns than the regretful tattoo decisions you made in a life and world that no longer exist, and yet one can still imagine you huddled on your makeshift raft, staring out with blistered eyes over an endless ocean of solitary horror, glancing down at your own reflection in the abyss of your inevitable doom, and catching a glimpse of your fucking Antoine Dodson tattoo and just being like, “eff.” Just something to think about before you make up your mind!
(Image via BuzzFeed.)

-David

America Does Not Got Talent

While I agree philosophically with the idea that all taste is subjective, I kind of feel like we need to get a verification on it. Because, sometimes I get the feeling that taste is not subjective at all. At the very least, perhaps we can all agree that there are moments in which something is either good or bad, and that the people who think otherwise are SCIENTIFICALLY wrong. The most obvious example, of course, would be mad creepy YouTubes with aging related disease faces.

Another instance would be Prince Poppycock, a current contestant on America’s Got Talent, who is not only a finalist (A FINALIST!?!) but seems to be beloved by the judges and the audience alike. “Dude” is just killing it! On last night’s episode, he performed a Marie Antoinette powder-faced musical theater version of Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody,” because it’s 2010 and 2012 cannot come soon enough
-David