This is one of those all encompassing on accident emails:
“Took the day off to celebrate MLK and BHO, went to CVS to get some CAB (cigarettes and beer) and luckily Obama’s “No Beer Before 10AM” law hadn’t passed yet. Anyway, needed to get the discount on the wet wipes but I didn’t have a card, and my phone number didn’t work, so I told the cute Mexican chick who was giving me googly eyes my ex-girlfriend’s phone number because I KNOW that bitch had a CVS card. As I was driving away I realized that now I have to text my ex-girlfriend and alert her that a cute Mexican girl is probably gonna hit her up for sex later and to just forward me the text. Bottom line dude? Life is muey complicado. Just try to make the best of it. And remember, in about five years, you’ll need to use wet wipes every time you poop. And that’s sad.”
Was this the girl????
Just try this:
“A great way to determine if you’re old or not is whether you need to briefly sit on the arm of a couch after a fart to determine if you’ve shit your pants or not. If you do, you’re old.”
This was made much trickier by the advent of “swaggin.”
courtesy of the best there is at terrible pick up lines…
“Ran into a girl I used to have sex with the other day and attempted what I thought was a stellar pickup line. I told her “I’ve been wanting to get back in that butt like a homesick poop!” She hated it and slapped me.”
This seemed to sum it all up.
And what follows makes perfect sense…
“Tonight I ate some mushrooms, watched the Presidential Debate and then went to a concert. What a night. Here are some things I realized:
1. One day I want to be one of those people they mention when they’re like, “I met a school teacher in Reno the other day, and she was dead. But I spoke to her via a medium and a Ouija Board. And she said we need more teachers.” I want to be that dead woman.
2. I want to make a blog called “When Hipsters Cry” that is simply pictures of hipsters crying. They’re all a bunch of bitches anyway so I bet we can do it. Did you know that people who are ACTUALLY COOL don’t want to live in Brooklyn anymore because they have dipshits on trust funds with rolled up jeans and projective personality disorders looking at them with scowls as they walk down the street? True story. My friend is a super cool Norwegian music video director, and he’s moving out because he’s tired of kids rolling their eyes at him while he makes cool shit happen and they have their parents beeping through on the other line trying to loan them money… AGAIN.
3. I’m going to start lifting weights again, get up to 205, grow my hair out JUST PRECISELY to the length where it requires berets (sp?) and then start wearing them in my hair, taking time to pin back my locks with my beautiful weightroom muscles while I block someone’s view at a clown college graduation or whatever it is I’m watching.
4. Did you know that if you’re on mushrooms at a concert and you go in the bathroom, the sound of people peeing and pooping will actually perfectly mimic the beat of whatever song is playing> Try it!
Oh that’s all? Thank God.
Genius. Pure genius.
Weird last couple of days, but my loss is your gain… Here’s everything he sent me over the last two days:
“We finally started having sex last night and it was great and all, but then this morning I accidentally said my own name during it and she got pissed. It’s not like I said some other chick’s name– what the fuck is the problem? I was saying the name of the person I’m most in love with. Whatabitch#”
Love his use of the hashtag there. Very hip. Later in the evening he sent this:
“So she left in a huff before she was supposed to take me to the airport. Just told me to lock the bottom lock on my way out. If by “lock the bottom lock” she meant leave an upper-decker in the water tank of her toilet, we’re all set!”
And then from the plane:
“FEMALE PILOT. Is Southwest joking? Am I on Punk’d? Where’s Bieber? See you in Hell!”
Then on MONDAY he forwarded me a text from the girl in Austin:
“Thx for leaving my place a mess, thx for breaking my coffee maker, and thx for being a complete asshole the entire time you were here. Talk to you never.”
Then he wrote me:
“Didn’t realize I broke her coffee maker. I would send her $11 to replace it, but I’m under strict orders to “talk to her never.” What the fuck does that even mean? Just don’t text me if you don’t want to talk. Think I might start calling her a bunch.”
AND NOW TODAY:
“Got to work super early, raided the company liquor cabinet, drove back home and came in at my normal time (9:42AM) and no one was the wiser. Just like I always say– “If a crackhead dies in a dark alley and no one’s there to see it, is he really dead?” I think not.”
So there you have it folks. Back to my struggling grades!
He sent this last night:
“If I ever have a girlfriend, I hope she doesn’t sneak stares at other dudes when I’m not looking, which is what pretty much every girl who’s with their boyfriend does with me. If I do ever have a girlfriend and she does that, I will take her by the hand and lead her over to the dude, and then give her nose a finger smack and say “No! No!” like she’s a puppy who pooped on my carpet.”
"If you want to fuck him just fuck him already!"
He knows a little something about both…
“Went home with a lonely girl last night and made all her dreams come true (if her dreams involve sex moves named after terrible cities), and thought maybe she was a keeper, or at least someone to add to my “Spreadsheet” until I saw this. Who the fuck installs their TP this way? It’s completely backwards. What am I supposed to reach under the roll to wipe my ass? And PS, this way all the TP has to touch the fucking wall before it touches my ass. Unacceptable. Her reservations at Six Flags: Fuck Mountain have been cancelled.”
He sent this photo with the email:
He has complained about this for years.
Then, ten minutes later he sent this email and photo:
50 bucks says he karate chopped it off the handle.