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Updates From The Frontline

29 May

I was whisked away to a lake where time stood still and the Internet did not exist. He went to a wedding in New York. Pardon the delay. Here are the tons of things he sent me:

“Manhattan is a dope place to go if you want to feel like the King of the World one second, and like committing suicide the next. Bring the family!”

“Fashion update from the frontline: Purples are in. Douchebags have co-opted neon. Everything silk. Silk pants even. And ladies, make sure that shit is see-through!”

“Just walked down Canal Street. Snakeskin boots? More like Fakeskin boots– AM I RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT?!?!?!?!?”

“Learned a lot about assholes tonight at Scores. Biggest take-home: If you’re gonna regularly make that ass clap, get that asshole bleached.”

“New York is the only place where you can simultaneously sit ACROSS FROM a runaway and NEXT TO the guy who’s going to kill her later.”

“An argument broke out on the subway tonight. Not IN a Subway– that would be amazing– could you imagine all the tomatoes and cold cuts flying everywhere?!?!?!?! Anyway, these two dudes were arguing with a woman sitting next to them, and I caught some real gems. First off, she accused them of being gay based on the fact that “Now that Obama said he’s down with being gay, everyone wanna go homo.” When they explained to her that they were not in fact gay, that they were two eligible bachelor ballers making “G’s,” she cleverly retorted that “G must stand for Garbage, because that’s how you be dressin!” That got a big rise out of the audience, a colorful cast of central casting castaways. But the real topper was yet to come. When she accused them of being drug dealers, one of them did not shy from the fact, brazenly announcing with raised voice, “So what? We work at Costco, AND WE DEAL DRUGS! So fuck you!” Obviously the argument was over at that point, the young man having employed the virtually unbeatable “We work at Costco and sell drugs” trump card. Her only shot to win at that point was if she happened to be a tranny prostitute who worked at Spencer’s Gifts.”

And then he stopped sending texts and emails. Maybe he tried to buy drugs from those guys and they killed him. Stay tuned. 

“First time’s free…”


Don’t Be So Touchy

12 May

Strip club advice…

“When a stripper tells you “you can touch me wherever you want” she means it. The thing is, that big black bouncer over there? He’s not aware of your little “deal” with Jasmine. So when he sees you cupping her tits with one hand and a wet willy with the other, he’s gonna ask you to stop. And when your response to his request is “Don’t boss me, bro,” he’s going to physically remove you from the Happy Room. And when you then start singing “Can’t Touch This” by MC Hammer AND doing the Hammer dance, he’s going to throw you out. At that point, when you start peeing on the end of the red carpet/velvet rope area, he’s going to punch you in the head. And from there, you will most likely be one hour late to work the next day. I hope that you have found this educational.”

I have. I just wish I could use it on an exam.  

I hope there's never a photo of me that's this embarrassing.

He’s A Foodie

2 May

and here’s how I know this is true:

“Want a delicious feast for the eyes and palette? Try the prime rib at a strip club. The juxtaposition of meat is enough to make a man cry. Cry and throw money at women. Another thought– wouldn’t it be funny if Chevrolet was the luxury car brand, not Mercedes? “Now coming to the stage: Chevy!” Oh man, poor people are hilarious.”

This isn't my brother, but he kind of looks like this and probably has done exactly this at some point. Maybe today.

A Strip Club

26 Nov

That’s “the only place where people respect” him. Woke up to this text:

“At Diamonds. Wish you were here. Mostly because there’s a girl from your high school stripping.”

I’ll take this opportunity to protect the identity of that sad/hot girl. I don’t see my brother this morning. Maybe he’s shopping for BLACK FRIDAY!!!

This would have been cooler than watching "The Deer Hunter" with my Dad.

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