I'm gonna preface this with the fact that I'm cranky as all f*** -- but aside from that point, this s**t NEEDS to be said. Girls, I'm talking to you and only you. Fellas, if you wanna read this and agree with me, feel free...but if you wanna bail out of this entry, now is the time.
You know what really pisses me the hell off? Whiners and complainers (which I get is ironic since this post is pretty much complaining about complainers, but bare with me you 8-eyed, 7-legged jackasses.) It pisses me off when girls complain and bitch about stuff they shouldn't.
Case in point -- I'm pretty much the equivalent of a slut on social media. I mean, if social media was a street corner...talking like the intersection of Facebook Ln and Twitter Pl, I'd be out there with my boobs hanging out prostituting the night away. I'm active on both sites and on Instagram -- and you know what I see ALL the time? Pretty girls calling themselves ugly. Skinny girls calling themselves fat. And it makes me want to pick up a pet rabbit and dropkick it to Kalamazoo.
You know why you sit there alone on Friday and Saturday nights while all your friends go on dates? Because you hate yourself. You know why that chick you make fun of behind her back for being 200 pounds gets more ass than you do? Because she has confidence. No dude is gonna want you if all you do is sit there taking selfies to post on Twitter/Facebook/Instagram and hashtag it with "#ugly" and talk about how you look like s**t when you really don't. Here's an idea -- if you think you're ugly and look like ass, STOP filling up people's feeds with pictures of yourself and whining about how you look. Because newsflash? We don't give a f**k.
It's exactly the reason I get pissed off whenever anyone goes fishing for compliments (which is what you're doing whether you deny it or not). If someone says they're fat and they're CLEARLY not, I automatically agree with them and say they're a tank and channel their inner bulimia. Obviously I'm not promoting eating disorders, but quick being a jackass. If you're all of 100 pounds soaking wet and saying you're fat, you're a douchebag. Same thing with if you're pretty and say you look ugly. Do you know HOW many times in my life I've complimented someone and had them reply with "Oh please I look like s**t." Yeah a**hole, you're right. You look like total f*****g trash, I just gave you a fake compliment so you don't jump off a bridge later on in the day.
Bottom line? Quit being attention-seeking a**holes. No one likes it and no one wants to listen to it nonstop everyday, ESPECIALLY when you're actually better-looking or skinnier than the person you're bitching to. The world doesn't like emo tools, so cut the s**t.
I'm off my soapbox now, you may proceed with your day. Doucheknuckles.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
WWE RAW Review
Those of you that know me (and I mean KNOW me know me) couldn't have thought I'd skip out on the wrestling geekdom part of my life on this blog, right?! So here's the thing -- ever since RAW has gone 3 hours, with the exception of RAW 1000, I've hated it. Sure, some decent matches got good time, but it was mostly all just filler. RAW 1001 is probably the best demonstration -- how many frickin times could they have possibly fit that Triple H/Brock Lesnar video package into the broadcast? It had to air AT LEAST 6 times...JUST to promote them being on the show later on! And on RAW since that has been any better really, although I'm impressed that they managed to keep their Tout hard-on in their pants.
Anyway, last night's RAW was honestly the first one I've enjoyed since RAW 1000. It didn't feel like an eternity to get through, I didn't hit the fast forward button once (granted I still have 45 mins of the show to watch, but if 2 hrs and 15 mins didn't get me to fast forward, I doubt the last leg of it will...unless there's some Divas crap), and I was genuinely entertained. Dolph Ziggler and Kofi Kingston had one of the best TV matches of the year (and proves that BOTH of them should be in the main event scene), CM Punk was GOLD on the mic (no shock there but just seemed extra motivated tonight) -- especially during his promo with Mick Foley. Honestly, Mick has been a total lame duck to me whenever he's popped up on WWE TV lately, but he really brought it last night.
Another highlight was Alberto Del Rio accidentally unmasking Sin Cara during the 6-man tag match. Cody Rhodes is right -- dude IS ugly.
I heard the Punk/Cena promo to close the show was awesome too. Unfortunately I didn't pop the TV on until Cena nailed Punk in the stomach with a pipe, so I missed the entire segment, but I'm pumped to get home and watch it. Either way, if WWE can keep shelling out 3-hour RAWs like last night's, I won't be such a Negative Nancy toward it anymore. Last night was a legit PERFECT mix of promos, backstage segments, great wrestling, proper pushes (except for Miz...Jesus that guy can't catch a break lately), and great pacing.
And crazy AJ. God damn do I love me some crazy AJ.
Anyway, last night's RAW was honestly the first one I've enjoyed since RAW 1000. It didn't feel like an eternity to get through, I didn't hit the fast forward button once (granted I still have 45 mins of the show to watch, but if 2 hrs and 15 mins didn't get me to fast forward, I doubt the last leg of it will...unless there's some Divas crap), and I was genuinely entertained. Dolph Ziggler and Kofi Kingston had one of the best TV matches of the year (and proves that BOTH of them should be in the main event scene), CM Punk was GOLD on the mic (no shock there but just seemed extra motivated tonight) -- especially during his promo with Mick Foley. Honestly, Mick has been a total lame duck to me whenever he's popped up on WWE TV lately, but he really brought it last night.
Another highlight was Alberto Del Rio accidentally unmasking Sin Cara during the 6-man tag match. Cody Rhodes is right -- dude IS ugly.
I heard the Punk/Cena promo to close the show was awesome too. Unfortunately I didn't pop the TV on until Cena nailed Punk in the stomach with a pipe, so I missed the entire segment, but I'm pumped to get home and watch it. Either way, if WWE can keep shelling out 3-hour RAWs like last night's, I won't be such a Negative Nancy toward it anymore. Last night was a legit PERFECT mix of promos, backstage segments, great wrestling, proper pushes (except for Miz...Jesus that guy can't catch a break lately), and great pacing.
And crazy AJ. God damn do I love me some crazy AJ.
NFL Refs of Sucktitude
Alright -- everyone else is bitching about this so I might as well hop on the bandwagon. No one likes the Rent-A-Refs in the NFL. They're terrible. You could put your hands inside a womb and pry a fresh newborn baby out of his/her Mamadukes, clean off that creepy goop that it's covered in, throw a Ref's onesie on him/her and THEY could call a better game than the refs this season have so far.
But unlike everyone else where you're gonna have to just read me bitching about it nonstop (which I wouldn't anyway because frankly, I don't really give a rat's ass. The final field goal between the Ravens/Pats on Sunday night WAS good, and I'm a Pats fan, so quit you're crying), I'm gonna let you do something about it.
After the Packers got hardcore screwed last night against the Seahawks (which I'll fully agree with...that call was bogus), Clay Matthews III was all like "Yeah Roger Goodell? You wanna be a cheap bastard and not meet our normal refs halfway because you're the richest tightwad ever? I'm gonna let the world hit you up and tell you what a cheap ass doucheknuckle you are" -- and posted Roger's phone number. On the Internet. For everyone to see.
And now I'm gonna repost it. Because I'm an a**hole. And I'm also gonna send Roger Goodell a text. Because even if I get arrested for textual harrassment toward Roger frickin Goodell, I'll instantly become more badass than I already am.
Oh, and to all the teams that won games but missed covering the spread by 1 point (and therefore costing my money), you're all ignorant, self-absorbed, thoughtless douchepansies. NOW GOOD DAY TO YOU SIRS!
But unlike everyone else where you're gonna have to just read me bitching about it nonstop (which I wouldn't anyway because frankly, I don't really give a rat's ass. The final field goal between the Ravens/Pats on Sunday night WAS good, and I'm a Pats fan, so quit you're crying), I'm gonna let you do something about it.
After the Packers got hardcore screwed last night against the Seahawks (which I'll fully agree with...that call was bogus), Clay Matthews III was all like "Yeah Roger Goodell? You wanna be a cheap bastard and not meet our normal refs halfway because you're the richest tightwad ever? I'm gonna let the world hit you up and tell you what a cheap ass doucheknuckle you are" -- and posted Roger's phone number. On the Internet. For everyone to see.
And now I'm gonna repost it. Because I'm an a**hole. And I'm also gonna send Roger Goodell a text. Because even if I get arrested for textual harrassment toward Roger frickin Goodell, I'll instantly become more badass than I already am.
Oh, and to all the teams that won games but missed covering the spread by 1 point (and therefore costing my money), you're all ignorant, self-absorbed, thoughtless douchepansies. NOW GOOD DAY TO YOU SIRS!
Monday, September 24, 2012
Green Day Meltdown
So a bunch of people I know went to the iHeartRadio Music Festival in Vegas this past weekend, and mostly all they talked about (aside from how awesome Vegas was, how wasted they got, how much money they won or lost, and how good Usher was live)...was Billie Joe Armstrong's meltdown on stage during the first night of the Festival. I got the raw video of it below (definitely NSFW) -- but you NEED to see this.
You're a f*****g legend, Billie Joe! Good luck in rehab.
You're a f*****g legend, Billie Joe! Good luck in rehab.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Challenge of Affection
Originally I was gonna throw up a total wrestling geek post (kinda about Night of Champions the other day, kind of about how I'd rather stick my manparts in a blender than watch 3 consecutive hours of RAW), but there's plenty of time to get to that another day. I ended up in a convo with one of my darling friends...we'll call her Veronica, about winning the affection of a dude.
That she works with.
Yes friends, my friend Veronica is pretty, but apparently also likes to move her bowels where she eats. (Apparently, girls poop too.)
Long story short, she starts talking to a guy -- I shall name him Douche K. Nuckle. Well, Mr. Nuckle starts giving signs that he's interested in her, wants to hang out, the usual "Hey, I like you, you're cute and once we build a good friendship and then a relationship, I'd like to see your boobies and how you landscape your Mommy hole" path. Well, around the same time, doesn't Douche end up playing the SAME game with another girl -- who he works with.
Yup. This dude is trying to channel his inner Trey from the Real World: St. Thomas season that just ended (yes I just watched it, yes I'm a 29 year old man, yes I like women...judge me and I'll punt your testicles through a set of uprights with a pair of steel-toed boots) and get super douchetastic and play 2 girls...WHO HAPPEN TO WORK WITH EACH OTHER. Smooth move, Exlax...NAHT. Here's the thing though -- Veronica is a smart girl. She KNOWS he's being a douche, but she can't seem to shake it. She even said (and I quote) -- "I just feel like I can make him like me more."
Emo guys always ask why good girls only want douchebags? Simple -- the challenge. They get off on the challenge of trying to tame a douchebag into a good guy. Ladies, that's why you're miserable...you can't tame someone who's not ready to stop being a douchebag yet. And sidenote...emo guys, that's why you're single -- because you post statuses on Facebook that 14-year-old girls also post. #letyourballsdrop
So basically, I've come up with a formula. Ladies, once you're done slummin around and stretching out your mamabits so that it doesn't hurt so much when you have babies, I've come up with a list of 4 ingredients for Mr. Right. To start, he needs 1 part hopeless romantic...where he'll do sweet stuff for you but not overkill. To counteract that, he needs 1 part a**hole, where he calls you out on your crap when you're being a bitch. Add 1 part goofball where he jokes around with you like he's your best friend, blend that all together 1 part of awesome sexual chemistry, and I give you -- Mr. Right.
I say it's a pretty good balance, right? If he's too romantic, you get creeped out. If he's too much of an a**hole, well I mean...who wants to be with an a**hole? If he jokes around too much, you put him in the friendzone. And if he's too into sex, well...I'd imagine that's a lot of chafing...ouch. With that lovely mental image...I'm out. You're welcome.
That she works with.
Yes friends, my friend Veronica is pretty, but apparently also likes to move her bowels where she eats. (Apparently, girls poop too.)
Long story short, she starts talking to a guy -- I shall name him Douche K. Nuckle. Well, Mr. Nuckle starts giving signs that he's interested in her, wants to hang out, the usual "Hey, I like you, you're cute and once we build a good friendship and then a relationship, I'd like to see your boobies and how you landscape your Mommy hole" path. Well, around the same time, doesn't Douche end up playing the SAME game with another girl -- who he works with.
Yup. This dude is trying to channel his inner Trey from the Real World: St. Thomas season that just ended (yes I just watched it, yes I'm a 29 year old man, yes I like women...judge me and I'll punt your testicles through a set of uprights with a pair of steel-toed boots) and get super douchetastic and play 2 girls...WHO HAPPEN TO WORK WITH EACH OTHER. Smooth move, Exlax...NAHT. Here's the thing though -- Veronica is a smart girl. She KNOWS he's being a douche, but she can't seem to shake it. She even said (and I quote) -- "I just feel like I can make him like me more."
Emo guys always ask why good girls only want douchebags? Simple -- the challenge. They get off on the challenge of trying to tame a douchebag into a good guy. Ladies, that's why you're miserable...you can't tame someone who's not ready to stop being a douchebag yet. And sidenote...emo guys, that's why you're single -- because you post statuses on Facebook that 14-year-old girls also post. #letyourballsdrop
So basically, I've come up with a formula. Ladies, once you're done slummin around and stretching out your mamabits so that it doesn't hurt so much when you have babies, I've come up with a list of 4 ingredients for Mr. Right. To start, he needs 1 part hopeless romantic...where he'll do sweet stuff for you but not overkill. To counteract that, he needs 1 part a**hole, where he calls you out on your crap when you're being a bitch. Add 1 part goofball where he jokes around with you like he's your best friend, blend that all together 1 part of awesome sexual chemistry, and I give you -- Mr. Right.
I say it's a pretty good balance, right? If he's too romantic, you get creeped out. If he's too much of an a**hole, well I mean...who wants to be with an a**hole? If he jokes around too much, you put him in the friendzone. And if he's too into sex, well...I'd imagine that's a lot of chafing...ouch. With that lovely mental image...I'm out. You're welcome.
A dude named Rocko
I said I was going to write about whatever I wanted in this new blog, and that also includes whoever I want -- family, friends, people I work with...this is gonna be choice #3. I work with a guy named Rocko (well, technically he's not named Rocko yet, but he will be soon...and if you think Rocko is his real name, then you're exactly the dumb kind of reader I'm looking for.)
But back to the point of this post -- Rocko just got a radio job in Arizona...his first on-air gig ever as far as I know. Full time. On air every night. Something I've been striving for since I shook the President of my college's hand (What up K-Quigs) and walked out of my alma mater (What up Curry College) with degree in hand. (This is where I sidebar -- technically I AM on air every single day, but I don't consider reporting the traffic being on air. You'd have to be in radio to understand what I mean, and possibly more specifically need to be a reporter that is/was/wants to be an on air talent...but trust me, reporting traffic IS NOT being on air.)
Annnnd this is where it gets weird because it's tough to know how to react. I appreciate my friends being loyal and supportive when they send texts like they think it's BS and that I've paid my dues and should be on air full time and don't understand how he is, but at the same time I don't think they entirely get it. Yeah, I've paid my dues -- I'm the dude that would, on a Saturday, drive 2 hours to a 4-hour radio show, drive another hour right afterwards for ANOTHER 4-hour radio show, then drive 2 hours back home. That's after working 10-12 hour days Mon-Fri and only getting paid for 8 of them. But that doesn't mean Rocko hasn't paid his dues, he just has in different ways. The dude had a full time job here before I even did and before he was even out of school. He's been here longer than I have working promo events, hosting events, and I'm pretty sure he DJ's on the side. Just because he's not as bat s**t out of his mind crazy like I am to drive all over the state doesn't mean he hasn't paid his dues.
This is gonna come off as insanely cocky, but deal with it. I KNOW I'm destined for greatness. I work too hard, care too much, and am WAY too focused to not succeed at life, whether it's jobwise, marrying a girl way out of my league, etc. Anything I do, anything I touch...I'll turn to gold one way or another. Is it frustrating that people like Rocko who haven't once had a regular show on a radio station are getting offers to host a Mon-Fri show before me? Absolutely. Do I hate him for it? NO! Am I crapping on him behind his back for it? Nope. (Well, at least not that my sober mind knows of...I DID get a couple of texts when I was drunk so who knows what the hell I said in a brainless stupor.) Him landing a full time gig actually motivated the crap outta me...I think I sent more tapes and resumes out last week than I have in the last few years combined. People saw it as me getting shafted -- I saw it as me still having a shot to make it.
So to my friends, I appreciate you getting my back and your loyalty...but stop being sweaty doucheknuckles (I don't even wanna know what that looks like...I don't even know what the hell it is.) And as far as you go, Rocko -- crush it. And remember that I never wanted to kick you in the Glitter stick for getting a gig before me when I hit you up for a hookup with a gig. (Because it's bound to happen...radio is like the prostitution of careers.)
But back to the point of this post -- Rocko just got a radio job in Arizona...his first on-air gig ever as far as I know. Full time. On air every night. Something I've been striving for since I shook the President of my college's hand (What up K-Quigs) and walked out of my alma mater (What up Curry College) with degree in hand. (This is where I sidebar -- technically I AM on air every single day, but I don't consider reporting the traffic being on air. You'd have to be in radio to understand what I mean, and possibly more specifically need to be a reporter that is/was/wants to be an on air talent...but trust me, reporting traffic IS NOT being on air.)
Annnnd this is where it gets weird because it's tough to know how to react. I appreciate my friends being loyal and supportive when they send texts like they think it's BS and that I've paid my dues and should be on air full time and don't understand how he is, but at the same time I don't think they entirely get it. Yeah, I've paid my dues -- I'm the dude that would, on a Saturday, drive 2 hours to a 4-hour radio show, drive another hour right afterwards for ANOTHER 4-hour radio show, then drive 2 hours back home. That's after working 10-12 hour days Mon-Fri and only getting paid for 8 of them. But that doesn't mean Rocko hasn't paid his dues, he just has in different ways. The dude had a full time job here before I even did and before he was even out of school. He's been here longer than I have working promo events, hosting events, and I'm pretty sure he DJ's on the side. Just because he's not as bat s**t out of his mind crazy like I am to drive all over the state doesn't mean he hasn't paid his dues.
This is gonna come off as insanely cocky, but deal with it. I KNOW I'm destined for greatness. I work too hard, care too much, and am WAY too focused to not succeed at life, whether it's jobwise, marrying a girl way out of my league, etc. Anything I do, anything I touch...I'll turn to gold one way or another. Is it frustrating that people like Rocko who haven't once had a regular show on a radio station are getting offers to host a Mon-Fri show before me? Absolutely. Do I hate him for it? NO! Am I crapping on him behind his back for it? Nope. (Well, at least not that my sober mind knows of...I DID get a couple of texts when I was drunk so who knows what the hell I said in a brainless stupor.) Him landing a full time gig actually motivated the crap outta me...I think I sent more tapes and resumes out last week than I have in the last few years combined. People saw it as me getting shafted -- I saw it as me still having a shot to make it.
So to my friends, I appreciate you getting my back and your loyalty...but stop being sweaty doucheknuckles (I don't even wanna know what that looks like...I don't even know what the hell it is.) And as far as you go, Rocko -- crush it. And remember that I never wanted to kick you in the Glitter stick for getting a gig before me when I hit you up for a hookup with a gig. (Because it's bound to happen...radio is like the prostitution of careers.)
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Shakira's Pregnant
Don't worry, I don't plan on making this a celebrity gossip site, but there's some stuff that just needs to be said. Don't expect to see Shakira looking anything like that anymore (at least for a few years) considering she just dropped the bomb that she's knocked up by her boyfriend (whose name I couldn't care to Google because I'm not the one that got to impregnate her).
But basically it's a huge bummer for any of you planning on hittin up the iHeartRadio Music Festival in Vegas this weekend, because along with announcing that she's pregnant, she also said she wasn't going to be performing there anymore. That's right kids, she had to pull out because her boyfriend didn't.
Moral of the story? Babies cost you paydays, so stop skanking around (I'm lookin at you, teenagers. And you too, Shakira...because no one wants to find out they were born a bastard child.)
Back In Business!
You KNEW it had to happen sooner or later -- I mean, there's no way my attention seeking ass could stay away for THAT long. So here's the deal...like the blog description says, this is blog is gonna be about EVERYTHING. Food, booze, food, advice, booze, food, wrestling, booze, booze, wrestling, food -- everything.
In all seriousness I wanna do cool stuff with this thing, so if you have any ideas or have anything you wanna see, hit me up on Twitter (link is on your right, ya dummyfaced-doucheknuckle) and let me know what you wanna see. I'm planning on doing some crossovers with other blogs to keep things fresh, so I promise you'll like what you see.
And if you don't, clearly you're the problem and not me. But in all seriousness thanks for checking out the new blog (and for getting Life Tips to Steak Tips up to 35,000 views before I deleted it) -- let's CRUSH that number (for no other reason than feeding my ego. I mean, it is the Banter BUFFET after all!)
In all seriousness I wanna do cool stuff with this thing, so if you have any ideas or have anything you wanna see, hit me up on Twitter (link is on your right, ya dummyfaced-doucheknuckle) and let me know what you wanna see. I'm planning on doing some crossovers with other blogs to keep things fresh, so I promise you'll like what you see.
And if you don't, clearly you're the problem and not me. But in all seriousness thanks for checking out the new blog (and for getting Life Tips to Steak Tips up to 35,000 views before I deleted it) -- let's CRUSH that number (for no other reason than feeding my ego. I mean, it is the Banter BUFFET after all!)
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