A Little Piece

Why don't little people get big Hollywood roles?

Movie Cliches

I hope I get hit by a bus.

Culture Shock

Learn why people my age have dirtier thoughts and by dirtier thoughts I am simply just saying that because now you're thinking something filthy.

Monday Movie Review

Go bananas for a movie about bananas.

Sign Spinners

They shake, they waddle, they do everything shitty for a shitty price.

Friday, July 29, 2011

Tropical Storm Don

Grab your lanterns and your pitchforks because a storm is a-brewin' in the Gulf! Tropical Storm Don is the first storm of the hurricane season to penetrate the mouth of Texas with all its glory and you know what that means. Hilarious and ridiculous news reports. Hahaha, people are treating this thing like it's fucking Hurricane Katrina. If anything, this storm is a big fat wet blessing in the disguise of some wind and water.

Seriously you guys, Texas is HOT. It's so hot over here it feels like Whoopi Goldberg's armpit after a cocaine binge. Also how scary are these hurricane names gonna get? LOL, Don sounds like the guy who went golfing this weekend. Not the ultimate storm of the century that will rape children and flip over SUVs, throwing them upon pregnant women. Nope! If Hurricane Katrina was a ravaging and angry rampage that should shake fear in all of us, then Don is nothing more than an earthly belch.

Tropical storm Don is movie weather. By that, I mean it's weather that's bad enough to where you just don't want to go outside and stay in and watch a good movie. So that's what I'll be doing this weekend as the little bitch of a storm passes over me. Have a good weekend everybody!

Thursday, July 28, 2011

Hipster Babies

For the first time in my life, I walked into a Babies "R" Us and boy what an experience that was. First off, what the hell does the phrase '"R" us' mean anyway? I'm guessing that it's implying that there's always going to be a little piece of being a baby inside of all of us. Uhh... if there is a grown man walking down the street with a binky in his mouth and poop dripping down his pants, he needs to stop now! Moving on!

As I entered the store I noticed most of the customers were baggy-eyed mothers (mostly teenage girls with bloated bellies) and a few more unkempt "women" waltzing around looking for diapers or anything else they could use to wipe baby poo with. Seriously I feel really bad for these women because I'm pretty sure 75% of their lives consist of poo. Wake up, poo, eat, poo, poo, shower, poo, feed baby, poo, feed baby, poo, poo, sleep, repeat. Yup, that's a mother's usual day with a baby.

Anyway, as I continued to walk through the store that coincidentally smelled like poo, I noticed that a lot of the babies had really nice clothes on and also had really trendy haircuts. Then I looked around and realized I was surrounded. Surrounded by hipster babies. They were all looking at me with their over-sized glasses and ironic senses of self-worth. If these babies could talk, they would only talk about obscure bands that you probably haven't heard of then scoff at your face and brag about being atheist.

I don't get it! I understand that parents want their babies to look nice and pretty but why would you purposefully portray your baby as a pretentious and cynical asshole. Look, I like Neutral Milk Hotel as much as the next Bisexual Agnostic but I don't run around town wearing trendy t-shirts, asking people whether they've seen the latest Diablo Cody flick.

Hahaha, these babies are bound to grow up hating anything that isn't 'cool' and treating everyone who listens to mainstream music like little sacks of dog shit. Hipster babies are our future. The "R" in Babies "R" us will never have a fully established definition because you've probably never heard of it.

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

My Sexy Eye Doctor

Well, I went to the eye doctor yesterday and honestly I felt a little bit uncomfortable. Every time I go and see my optometrist, I always feel like he's coming onto me. Especially when he closes the door behind him and dims the lights. Sure, he has to dim them in order to get an effective reading of my retnas but why does he have to get so close to my face? Keep your distance Doctor Friendly...

Then as the session went on, I continuously thought of funny ways my 60 year old optometrist could have made advances at me. At the moment of dimming the lights, I imagined him clapping his hands seductively and a soft Jazz instrumental playing throughout the room.

Me: Uhh... why is there music playing?

Doctor: Hmm? Oh, I just thought it would lighten the mood a bit. Sit back, relax and just let me do all the work. Take off your pants if you'd like.

Me: What?

Doctor: Huh? Nothing.

Obviously that didn't happen but I still tried not to laugh under my breath as he started to edge closer to me, asking me mundane questions about how everything is going as far as school, work and life in general.

Doctor: So Leo, how's everything going?

Me: Pretty good I guess, I'm moving to San Antonio in about three weeks.

Doctor: Oh, that's nice and how's your mother?

Me: She's really good.

Doctor: That's good to hear, very good to hear and how is your butthole feeling lately?

Me: Excuse me?

Doctor: I said how is your father?

Me: Oh, he's fine.

Hahahahaha, I kept dishing out so many scenarios in my head that I couldn't even contain my laughter. It was obvious now that I was laughing and the doctor started to notice and asked me what was so funny. I ignored him and just shut my mouth.

Then he decided to give me the infamous eye exam. He clicked a button that showed several letters all lined up and asked me what I saw.

Doctor: Okay Leo, I'm going to show you a few images and I want you to tell me what you see.

Me: Okay.

Doctor: What do you see here?

Me: I see the letters Q, R, S, F, L, E and... I think that's an H?

Doctor: Great! Okay, next image. Now what do you see?

Me: Umm... Doctor, that's a picture of you in a leopard bikini.

Doctor: Heavens, how did that get in there! Haha, I apologize for that.

Then I left the room, laughing so hard my ribs hurt

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

My 9th Grade "Love Letter"

When I was in 9th grade I had a weird sense of humor. Scratch that... I had a fucking bizarre sense of humor which included a lot of sexually explicit, religious-themed jokes. Honestly when I look back at the shit I said, I think it's pretty goddamn hilarious. But today a friend of mine who I went to High School with forwarded me a picture of a joke love letter I wrote to her and as I read it, my jaw was on the floor. Why the hell did I come up with this?

"Dearest Karla,

My love for you is overwhelming. Besides squirrels, you're the only thing I dream about at night. Listen to me... I sound crazy over here! If I could somehow fit you into a burrito and microwave you then devour you, I so would. I'd love to have dinner with you. And you as the main course! yummm :P

I love your nasal voice and your wannabe ghetto style and that ASS!!! OH GOD. You just looked at my paper and said "I saw God." I don't know if you were talking about the paper or if you literally saw God. If so, how big is his cock? I heard it was huge!! I wish I could have a threesome with you, me and the virgin mary. Well, she won't be a virgin when we're done with her.



Forgive me God... hahahahaha. Oh and I forgot to mention I wrote the letter on the back of a picture of a skull.

Monday, July 25, 2011

Chuck E. Cheese: A Night in Hell

Well, I went to my little cousin's birthday party this weekend and unfortunately his parents thought it would be fun to have it at Chuck E. Cheese. I guess it's understandable why a parent would find this place to be an ideal place to celebrate your child's birthday but seriously you guys... It's not.

First off, I have to ask the question as to why Chuck E. Cheese apparently has no limitations for how many fucking people they can let in their doors. Because as soon as I walked in, there was a roar of crying, laughter, screaming and hordes of people just smushing* against each other wall to wall. Seriously, how hard is it to just say "uhh... there's too many fucking kids in here." Because that's exactly what I said when I opened the door.

Chuck E. Cheese is a seriously weird place. Seriously if you think about it, it's fucking bizarre. Like if aliens were looking at our society from their space ship and they saw everything that we were doing - Chuck E. Cheese would be the most confusing event going on to them. Why are there offsprings running to those machines with golden coins and screaming? Why is there a robotic rodent shaped like a man singing to the children? Why are they enjoying this?

Anyways, as the night progressed there were several old televisions playing stock footage that was OBVIOUSLY filmed in the nineties and hasn't been updated. The videos were of Chuck E. and his 'crew' covering several famous songs like Flock of Seagulls' "I Ran So Far Away". THAT was funny...

Pizzas were eaten, burps were given and children were forgotten as the night progressed and the barefoot Appalachian-like parental neglect seemed more and more apparent. A little girl wearing nothing but a diaper and a small, flimsy dress ran by me and I tried to avoid touching her before an angry southern mother approached me and called me a pervert. The little girl started flailing her arms about like a maniac and without hesitation, punched me right in the balls.

Then we got to the really, really disturbing part of the night which was the part where the big rat man sang to children as the employees clapped their hands and tried to pep up the un-enthused crowd. An employee got up on her seat and said "WHEN I SAY HAPPY, YOU SAY BIRTHDAY.... HAPPY!" No one said a WORD and I literally laughed at her face. Then my little cousin started crying and I called it a night. The slogan should be changed from "Where a kid can be a kid" to "Where a parent can give two shits".

* yeah that's right... I said 'smush' and didn't intend it to be a Jersey Shore reference - SUE ME SNOOKI, YOU FAT, FUGLY PIG

Friday, July 22, 2011

Timeline of Baby Jonathan in the Music Industry

First off, I should probably say that Baby Jonathan isn't a baby. He's five years old and can form complete sentences, show emotion and demand what pleases him and what doesn't please him in a pretty coherent way. But, for some reason my co-worker continues to refer her niece as 'Baby Jonathan' every time she has some funny story about him.

"Why do you call him Baby Jonathan?" I asked one day. "Don't you think that name will kind of get old?" (no pun intended)

She told me that she's called him Baby Jonathan since he was born and it's just what she refers to him as. This reminded me of other things that people do for so long, that they don't even realize that it stopped making sense years ago. Like jiggling a door key before you enter your house even though you're living in a different house you were in a decade ago, when it was actually necessary to do that.

Then I started thinking... What would a music producer do? He'd make this baby into a STAR! What Baby Jonathan is needing is a bit of consistency! So let's make up some names that Baby Jonathan can transform to throughout his life. It's guaranteed success!

Age 5: Infant Jonathan

This is totally appropriate because he's an infant! Infant Jonathan will be all that and a bag of chips in Japan.

Age 10: Prepubescent Jonathan

His balls haven't dropped but his album is about to! Catch Baby Jonathan's new record "Baby On Board" this Spring!

Age 13: Teenage Jonathan

Hormones are raging, and he's all the rage! Move over Justin Beaver because here comes the new teen heart throb.

Age 20: Sex Addict Jonathan

Oh no! Jonathan got a little too ahead of himself and now he's going to have to join the 12-step program. This means he'll come back next year with a Christian album along with a few religious tattoos. (double standard)

Age 32: Balding Jonathan

Jonathan's beautiful, brunette locks are falling out but that doesn't mean his fans are falling out of love with HIM! He's releasing a Greatest Hits record this Fall and it's sure to be a hit!

Age 45: Mid-life Crisis Jonathan

Awh crap, he's on the ledge.

Age 58: Old-But-Spunky Jonathan

Through all of his epiphanies and torment, he's finally come to terms with who he really is! This is the best Jonathan yet!

Age 65: Inaudible-But-Still-Respected Jonathan

Jonathan has done so much for the music industry! Who cares that his voice sounds like Bob Dylan farting into a tin can! He's still a legend!

Age 70: Drug-Overdose Jonathan

He will always be remembered! ;_;

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Men's Restroom Etiquette Class

Come gather, young etiquette and manners enthusiasts and bring your cups of tea along with you! Because today, I'm going to give you all a lesson in restroom etiquette. What? Huh? Yeah, that's right, I said restroom bitch tits. I'm not here to tell you tuck in your napkin or say 'please' and 'thank you'. All I ask is you take away a sense of not being a fucking weirdo in one of the most solace places.

So, tip numero uno: Don't talk on your cell phone while you're in a stall

This rule also goes for talking on your blue tooth next to someone by the urinal. (sidenote: blue tooths are not cool and have never been cool.) These types of events can get very confusing, and when you're in the stall - applying to Brown University - then think twice before chit-chatting on the phone because EVERYONE CAN FUCKING HEAR YOU.

Tip numero dos: Please don't try to strike a conversation while peeing next to someone

It's awkward enough that we both have our penises out and we're excreting fluids inches away from each other, so please don't make it even more awkward by asking me about the weather while I can still hear the splish splashing of your pee. Maybe I'm a prude and pee skeeves me out, but this is a rule everyone should just take. JUST TAKE IT!

Tip number tres: Whenever you're peeing, stop replicating an orgasm

Seriously, I can't count how many times I've been peeing beside someone then OUT OF NOWHERE, they just start moaning like they're Jenna Jameson or something. You're not a porn star so stop making me feel uncomfortable. Hahaha, the release of urine is not THAT great of a feeling guys, so calm down and stop grasping the wall.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Night of the Living Cockroaches

Roaches. Little pieces of shit with legs and antennas.

Last night I set my head down to go to sleep, trying to avoid the rumbling train that always seems to wake me up in the middle of the night and there in front of my fucking face was one of the worst psychotic experiments God ever put on this Earth. I seriously think God got drunk one night with his other 'god' buddies (Buddha, Zeus, etc...) and thought it would be funny to put these sneaky vermin EVERYWHERE.

Buddha: Hey God, let's think up some crazy, fucked up shit.

God: Ahhhh, I don't know man hahahaha. Last time I did that with you, we created George Bush.

Buddha: Oh, come on! Let's do it for old time's sake.

Zeus: Yeah, don't be such a pussy dude.

God: Oh, okay.

Yup, that's exactly how it happened and don't even try to refute me.

Roaches have always been a problem in my house since I was younger and I always thought that there was a mountain of roach people, then one day a bunch of real estate agents came and raped/pillaged all of the roach people and built a bunch of pretty houses on top of the mountain. Now their unborn children and spirits haunt my house.

These aren't just regular roaches either! They're like super-efficient, mutated, evolutionized roaches with night vision and SWAT ropes. The other day I saw one in my kitchen and he was lingering on the floor, in the corner as I tried to sneak up behind him. Then he turned around because apparently I wasn't being cat-like enough. I steered my eyes over beside the little fucker and saw a shoe (roach's worst enemy). I looked at the shoe, then - I SWEAR TO GOD - the roach looked at the shoe too! Then he looked back at me with fortitude and fucking ran away. He knew what I was going to do! Curse you drunk God.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Things that exist for no reason

There are a lot of excess luxuries floating around in this world we call America and I think we take advantage of every single one of them. "Huh? What's this? A bottle of oil? I'm sure this goes into my car with NO outside influence!" WRONG... I think we should all take a brazen look at our society and ask - "Is this really necessary?"

Cops on horses

What the flying assholes? Why does this exist, and not only does it exist, but for some even weirder reason, I only see cops on horses in mega-metropolis cities like New York or Houston. WE HAVE CARS AND SIRENS AND GUNS... Horses have been obsolete since someone first got into a car and said "hey this is a lot better, you guys. My ass doesn't hurt at all". But nope! For some reason, horses continue to gallop in unwanted places and I continue to see Mr. Ed when I go out to get my Chinese takeout.

Pizza Tracker

What ever happened to the good ol' days when we would cuddle up with a scary movie and the suggestion of ordering a pizza becomes an exciting rush of laziness. SOMEONE WILL BRING FOOD TO ME! But ordering a pizza should be exactly that, a rush of laziness and not a Goddamn SWAT mission. Why the hell do we have to know the GPS coordinates of the pizza man? Are we now treating pizzas like our teenage children? "WHERE WERE YOU... WHY DID YOU STOP AT SHANNON'S HOUSE". No. Let's just treat our pizzas like pizzas and let them get delivered spontaneously (but under thirty minutes) to our doorstep.

Saturday, July 2, 2011

What I Learned in Las Vegas

Hi guys!

Sorry for the lack of posting, I've been on vacation. (yes, I know that blogging is not a real job and it doesn't deserve a vacation but I'm tired and writing all these stories is actually semi-exhausting. Hey, at least I'm not a cole miner.) I went to Las Vegas, Nevada. The city of lost and tormented souls and oh boy did I learn a lot about the human species. Here's a list of things that I've learned just by walking down the street.

1. Being Homeless in Las Vegas is a Competition

Yup! It's true! Being homeless in Vegas is like being a desperate actor in line for a B-Rated movie audition. It seems like every three feet, there's a new and hopeless scoundrel showing off their minor talent while, all at the same time, there are another group of homeless baritones singing "Blue Moon" in beautiful harmony. But, I'd have to say the homeless folks that show the most courage and the most beauty are the absolute NUT CASES. For example, I saw a woman sitting down on the side of the sidewalk with snakes... SNAKES wrapped around her body and told me to come join her. I was curious enough and sat beside her.

Oh yeah, and she had a beard.

2. There Are Too Many Outlets for Lunatics

Let me explain what this means. In Las Vegas, every square inch is exposure, lights, horror and hilarity all strung together in a superimposed magnifying glass of society. There are a million outdoor karaoke bars, many people with microphones and small boom boxes just for the fuck of it, and last but not least (oh the horror) a small camera inside of a hotel where you only have to pay $7 to be projected on a massive screen outside. SEVEN DOLLARS. Any lunatic can gather up $7 and twiddle their fingers, knowing in the back of their head that the demon squirrels will have their voice heard finally! This isn't a very good thing but it certainly leads to many random quotes being yelled from the strip by people who should be admitted into Belleview.

3. Drunks are Drunks

Drunks aren't angry. Drunks aren't funny. Drunks aren't clever. Drunks are drunks and it will always be that way. The only for sure fact about drunk people is that they are over sensitive to any comment made. For example, at 2 am when I was walking back to my hotel I saw a woman crying in a wedding dress in the elevator crouched down on the floor. I entered the elevator of course, curious as to what she was crying about and why the hell she was in a wedding dress. A man was standing beside her telling her to shut up as he smoked a cigarette, letting the ashes fall on her. She looked at an ash stain, gasped and yelled "WHAT THE FUCK JOHNNY!" Then the man threw his cigarette on the ground, grabbed her by the neck and said "You shut your fucking mouth... you're a school teacher." I held in my laughter for as long as I could then the doors opened (not to my floor) and I ran outside laughing hysterically. God bless that couple.

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