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The Beard Chronicles Part One

31 Jan

He shaved his beard, and it warranted a multitude of talk…

“Decided to shave my beard tonight because I noticed it’s starting to get cool in society. Mixed results. Thought about suicide. Decided against it. A tip: If you’re planning on growing a beard and getting fat under it, get back in shape before you shave it off. I just got super stoned, shaved my beard off, realized I was fat and then played a game around my apartment with the mirrors called “Fat Gay Demon” where I pretended to get scared every time I saw myself.” 

On Being Good

11 Sep

or trying not to be…

“Only the good die young. I’ve been trying to O.D. or get killed in a nasty guitar accident for years to no avail, which is how I know I’m bad. Which reminds me– The song “I’m Bad” by LL Cool J kicks a ton of ass. A lot of people think that LL Cool J is just that black guy who makes the clothes they buy at Sears, but he used to be a great rapper too. Knowledge is Power.”

So just to clear that up: Only the good die young and knowledge is power. Pretty standard stuff. Here’s the song, which might be the best rap video ever:

More News On Getting Old

26 Jul

Summary: It sucks…

“Just sneezed at my desk and pulled my groin. Why did I sneeze? Barbara’s new perfume. Why did I pull my groin? Because my once virile, beautiful body has become a wasteland of weak muscle tissue and strong regrets. I’m a piece of shit. So again I urge you– Take some mescaline, listen to R Kelly’s song “I Believe I Can Fly” and jump off your frat house roof next semester.”

Someone made this. Think about that for a second.

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…”

Cumulative Effects

14 May

They happen in so many ways over time… and yet another reminder to kill myself:

“The reason getting old sucks is because everyone you hang out with, even your best friends, have too much shit on their minds. You can be with the two coolest people in the World, but if they’re over 27, they’re both gonna have a bunch of real shit to think about and be slightly more boring because of it. Mortgages, bad investments, worse relationships, old chubby pregnant chicks, whether all the concussions we got from fighting are fucking up our memory capacity, and mortgages. When you hang out with your boys right now, the only thing on your mind is what the pussy you’ll be eating later tastes like. Mango? Regret? Bagel Bites? Who knows, and who cares, because those aren’t real problems. I spent most of Saturday night trying to figure out if declaring bankruptcy got me out of my student loans over ten gin and tonics and eleven lines of coke. The answer is no. To all of it. One more reason why you need to eat mescaline and fall out of your frat house window next year. After you go abroad, of course. Nothing better than going out on top.”

I typed “Bagel Bites Funny” and here we are. Truly that.

Where Dreams Go To Die

13 Apr

His brain is the place, apparently…

“Had a dream last night that an ugly white trash girl left me with her newborn baby in a shitty apartment, and I spent the whole dream taking care of him and hoping her ugly ass would come back, but she never did. At one point, I walked the baby down to the local gas station in a blanket like I was a Russian Babushka to get the little fucker a bottle of Dannon water to drink. Point being, when you get old like me, even your dreams are pathetic and involve responsibility. Plus it’s a damn ripoff of the premise of the third season of Eastbound and Down. I’d call my show “Third Down and Gay.” Unoriginal, manual labor-type dreams. Fucking pathetic.

Why am I telling you this? Because you need to NOT get old like me. Drink all the jungle juice at your last fraternity party of your second senior year and just end it. Trust me, you’ll be missing out on nothing. Plus then I can milk your death for all it’s worth. “Oh my brother, what a crying shame!” I’d scream in between lines of coke and kisses from a Puerto Rican girl who swears she’s 18 but conveniently can’t find her driver’s license. “I’m all alone in this World!” I’d bellow as she gave my D a Hamilton Piledriver. You get the picture. Thanks in advance bro!”

The “Hamilton Piledriver” is a new one I’m not familiar with. And that’s also the 10th time he’s basically told me to kill myself, so… Yeah.

This is not a dream, kids.

 

The Solution

12 Mar

He sent this picture and the below

“Finally someone made a gun for people with multiple personalities to kill themselves– great knowing you bro!”

More bang for your buck.

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