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“Say It, Don’t Spin It”

10 May

Because he needs you to slow down:

“What happened to being straightforward in our society? Is it texting? The Internet? No one can just say what they want to say anymore. It used to be that if you wanted to tell me about how you had a $5 pizza for sale, you’d strap a “$5 Pizza!” sign to a dog and cover the back with peanut butter so he wouldn’t complain. Now they have some grunge kid from my high school who apparently has a time machine and uses it to work shitty jobs in the future spinning a sign with such lightning-quick intensity that I just had a seizure in my car and crashed into an Asian lady’s QX4, the sheer irony of which made us all convulse with laughter (and me from the seizure, of course). Point is, if you have something to say, just fucking say it, don’t spin it.” 

According to your arrow, sir, “Adventure Time” is underground. Where might I find the door and/or stairs?


Time Travelling Asshole

7 Jan

or so he claims. He sent this photo last night with the below writing:

“Went into the future last night and found out they named a strand of weed after me. So proud.”

Do you like to get high and hit your wife? Have we got the weed for you!

On Inventors, Time Machines and Chicks

7 Oct

This is how he spends his Fridays sometimes:

“I was just thinking that if you could hang out with some old timey famous people like Ben Franklin and Thomas Jefferson nowadays, it would actually probably be really annoying because they’d never stop bragging about how all their awesome inventions are still so important to us nowadays. They’d never shut up about it I bet. Probably go something like this:

ME: So what do you guys want to do today?

BEN FRANKLIN: Not sure, but I bet it will involve electricity, like everything else on Earth does!

THOMAS JEFFERSON: Perhaps we could eat some macaroni while sitting in swivel chairs!

(then both guys laugh hysterically for a minute)

BEN FRANKLIN: I don’t know, Thomas, could you write up a proposal which I’ll review wearing these BI-FOCALS?!?!?!

THOMAS JEFFERSON: Sure, I’ll make you both a copy on my DUPLICATING MACHINE!!!!!

(they both laugh hysterically again)

ME: Okay guys, I get it. You invented tons of shit. Can you stop bragging about it?

BEN FRANKLIN: You shouldn’t have gotten us stoned. I get arrogant when I’m stoned.

ME: How would I know that? We just met when you arrived in this fucking time machine.

BEN FRANKLIN: Powered by electricity!


BEN FRANKLIN: Now, good sir. How about we find us some of that- what was it you called the lady parts again?

ME: Pussy.

BEN FRANKLIN: Yes- “Pussy!” What a hilarious name for it. We used to call it “Satan’s Pocket Purse.”

ME: Yeah, there’s a bar up the street. And yes, Thomas, we can count our steps using a fucking Pedometer, okay? 

THOMAS JEFFERSON: Thank you, good sir. Just one more thing- do you think there will be any women of ebony complexion at this “bar” you speak of?

(Then we all laugh hysterically because everyone knows that TJ loves black chicks)”

High as fuck, thinking about macaroni and black chicks.


A Treatise on Hallucinating

11 May

No other way to describe it. I told him I was thinking of tripping w a friend after finals and he got all excited and said he would email me something. Back to the books for me…

College is the only time in life that people really, truly enjoy hallucinating. You’re too young to have your trip ruined by all the troubles and pressures of the real world, and just old enough to have truly mind-expanding, deep thoughts, so take advantage of this small window and accept that weird guy on your hall’s offer to “trip balls” with him this weekend in the woods. But don’t take acid. Acid is too often cut with other, speedier drugs and sometimes, gulp… rat poison, no joke. Acid is also often made by people who legitimately think Pantera is a good band. These people are bad, and wrong. The last time I ate acid I ended up crying in a Steak-N-Shake in Indianapolis because my chili bowl was full of maggots and my teeth were bleeding. Oh God how I wish that was a lie. Instead of acid, try mushrooms or mescaline, a much smoother, calmer way to completely (temporarily) lose your mind. Once you’re on the horse, remember this most important bit of advice: Nothing is as serious as it seems, and you WILL feel normal again, eventually. I once called the cops on myself because I couldn’t get the VCR to work and thought the bookshelves were screaming at me as a result. I learned that not only was that incorrect, but also that NO ONE needs to watch the movie Krull that badly. And PS, you can also always drink your way back to sanity if things get to be too much for you.

 Now, if you’re really taking it to the limit and doing the amount of drugs you probably should be in order to have an awesome time, there will inevitably be a few moments where you’re paranoid enough about reality to need to hide in a closet and cry. But don’t worry– you’re not alone! This happens to the best of ‘em, myself included. Heck, at one point in my life (I call it “All of 2001”) I truly believed that the government had implanted microphones in the ears and cameras in the eyes of all the squirrels on my campus. I called them BABY LINKIES, an acronym that’s far too complicated for me to explain to you right now. Do you have a week? I mean… Despite the ample evidence I presented at a Supreme Court Trial (drawing attached) including dozens of witnesses, cats who could read the newspaper, etc., it turned out that I was just really high and confused. Oh well! 

So be careful, and seriously, call me if you need anything while you’re tripping. I can probably help, and you can totally put me on speaker and I’ll make weird funny noises. Good luck!”

His Steak & Shake acid trip was mentioned once before:

This was the drawing he attached:

Is it me or is he getting progressively weirder?

When You Think You Have It Figured Out

10 May

You’re right! Here’s why…

“Forgot to tell you this– over the weekend I was drunk, riding on my friend’s handlebars (which I’m sure is a gay sex move but in this case, was not) and I was looking down at my feet and the road swishing by under them, all of which were kinda blurry due to the 32 drinks I’d had, and some cocaine a girl made me do (bitch!!!!), and all of a sudden it hit me. The meaning of Life. The thing is, I can’t remember what it was. But I want you to know something– The moments of clarity you have while drunk or high ARE REAL. You figured out the meaning of life, and you’ll never remember it!!!! And it’s something to do with everything being everything, which incidentally is a pretty good Lauryn Hill song. Which brings me to the Fugees. It always comes back to the Fugees. FUCK YOU PRAS!!!!!!!!!!! YOU RUINED EVERYTHING!!!!!!!” 

I had one of these once. It had something to do with everyone being right handed. Can’t remember the rest. Fuck. 

Ha! Rolling Stone sucks.


20 Feb

Another genius idea:

“I went to a bar last night where clearly the theme was “Old-Timey” and everyone was really into it. “Ooh wow look at the old wood everywhere and the dirty looking glasses and the weird drinks you’ve never heard of!” Um yeah the wood is decayed, those glasses ARE dirty and you’ve never heard of the drinks because Assclown Stevens over there with the monocle made them up. But to capitalize on this obvious craze, I’m creating Throwback Thursdays at my apartment. On Throwback Thursdays, everything REALLY IS like the olden times. Women aren’t allowed to talk, stabbing is legal and the only fucking drink we serve is Moonshine. There’s some posts outside to tie up your horse (or servant), stables for the hookers upstairs, and if anyone so much as even bumps into me, everybody gets shot!!!!!!!!!!!!”

I think he’s gonna have to cut back on the threats to really bring in the customers but overall it sounds like a good bar. I’d go there.

He chopped the fuckin bartenders fingers off!


Speeding It Up

6 Jan

I guess he’s traveling for work again:

“You may have noticed over the years that I’m a very fast walker. As I just zoomed by every idiot in this airport, I got to thinking about how I’ve probably gotten to all of my destinations a couple minutes earlier than anyone else because of my supreme speed-walking ability. Which made me think: Maybe after all this time, I’m actually a few HOURS into the future. It would explain how hip and controversial all of my clothes, comments and decisions are. So think about that the next time you’re doing a slow-motion Electric Boogaloo en route to class. Speed that shit up and get the day over with faster!”

This is what Olympic Racewalkers look like. Classic French pervert.

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