Monday, December 22, 2008

#53: Do a Kegstand

Earlier this semester, I was graced with the presence of one of my best friends from home. I mean it only took 3 1/2 years for him to finally come down (great friend he is). Even though I had visited a numerous amount of times at school, it took a good year's worth of badgering and verbal threats to his manhood if he did not come down. I guess they worked as he finally showed up, only a month shy of me leaving school. Now the thing with my friend is that he's not the normal best friend that you have. We get along great, but ever since we've gone off to college, our lives have turned in different directions. While I was hitting the books and forcing myself to learn, my friend was pounding beers and broads at his school. Needless to say, it was a perfect storm when my friend came, as my studious habits were going to have to give way to his eccentric and nonstop style of partying.

Although I'd like to consider myself as a guy who can throw down with the best of them, I cannot keep up with my friend. As he puts it, he is a machine and does not stop for anyone or anything. Trust me. I've tried keeping up with the guy, and all I've ended up with is hungover, unhappy, sleep-deprived, and sometimes in another state. He once woke me up at 8:30 in the morning so we could start pounding some beers that were left over from the night before. I don't know how he does it, even though I'm thoroughly convinced that his days of popping No-Doze finally worked for him. My friend and few other good friends of mine came down along with him and the stage was set for an awesome partying weekend. No one knew what lay ahead, but it involved dumb decisions and a kegstand that I'd like to forget.

My friends arrived late on Friday and by the time I head over to another friend's house where they were staying, they were already drinking. It was 7:00, I barely walked in the door, and I'm handed a beer. This was an ominous sign, as it was the beginning of drunken debauchery to its most excessive point. After pounding beers for a good few hours, we head out to some house parties to see what my school has to offer. By the time we arrive at the party, my friend is slow, lethargic, and drunk. The only solution in his mind, is to keep drinking. And since I wasn't leaving his side despite my best efforts, I was drinking too. Every beer that went down made me cringe, regardless of its brand. Don't get me wrong. I love beer, but there only so much that you can handle of it. With beer drinking, there is only so much I can take before "Mmm! Beer!" turns into "Kill me now, I'm upchucking my brains out." And that night, I was an unhealthy mix of both. The beer was not sitting well with me, when my friend finds a keg. Oh shit.

My friend, being the great opportunist that he is, gets the great idea that his friend (me) should do a kegstand. I immeidately tell him no, citing that I might puke everywhere and I don't want to end the night early. My negative thoughts towards the prospect of hanging upside down, were quickly dashed as chants of "pussy" were exclaimed by many patrons of the party. Oh great. We have just created a scene and now I'm having my manhood being called out all for the sake of proving that I can do a kegstand. Honestly, there is no better way to prove that I'm a man than by doing this. Seriously, we must be apes that frequently participate in circle jerks because we are that dumb at times. I finally succumb to the peer pressure to divert attention away from me and have two of friends hold my legs up. I put my mouth to the tap and began drinking.

As I'm drinking the terrible, cheap beer from the keg, the only thought that could go through my mind is that I hope that I don't puke everywhere. I seriously didn't need that. Over the last couple of months, I have sullied my reputation as being able holding my alcohol, by puking in and on friends' cars, the living rooms of my house and apartment, and even the corner of a bar. I closed my eyes and opened my throat, praying to God that I wouldn't have a sudden reflex to resist the copious amounts of beer going into me. I lasted 21 seconds until I started to kick and kindly request that I be let down. Come to think of it, it was more of a stern "let me down and if you don't, I will hurt you." But I did it, and I didn't puke that night. I was awakened the next morning at 9:00 by my friend to go buy him beer, but I simply turned my phone off and resumed my peaceful sleep. Suck it, him.

Friday, December 19, 2008

This week, my friends and I are in Las Vegas celebrating the twilight of college careers by gambling away all of our money, buying $10 beers, and unsuccessfully picking up foreign chicks. And then it hit me. While holding my $7 Miller Lite (don't forget the extra $2 for tip since that bartender doesn't think that one Mr. Washington is enough) on the 53rd floor of the Palms, I realized that I needed to jump back on the horse and starting writing once again. I don't understand how I reached that conclusion, but the means don't particularly matter at this point.

So after an extremely long hiatus and some newfound motivation, I've decided to pick up where I've left off and continue. And don't worry, I've completed some things on the list and then some. Over the course of the next few weeks, I'll bring you guys up to speed on the progress of the list and add a few wrinkles to make things more interesting. With that being said, I'm going to go gamble some more.

Sunday, September 14, 2008

#75: Stop Talking Like My Roommate (part II)

I left you all last time with a goal for me to stop talking like my roommate. His constant idiosyncrasies, gestures, and phrases that make a three year old sound like Thomas Edison or even Albert Einstein had taken a toll on me. It was time for me to see the light and venture away from words that had become so commonplace such as "ballin," "bo," and "beatin it." Let me tell you that it's been a long, hard road to recovery. I won't say that trying not to speak like a seven year old has been paved with gold and smelled like roses, but it hasn't been that bad. Talking like a real, normal human being hasn't really helped me get ladies in the sack (like I said it would, stupid me) or anything awesome like that, but I'd like to think that I'm working on it right now. It will happen in due time I guess. Since I've made this proclamation about two weeks ago, I'd like to think that I've been pretty good. Or so I think. There are times where I do have random urges to say these words, but for the most part I've been under control.

With that being said, I have hit some bumps on the road. There have been at least two instances that constantly occur where I struggle to abstain from speaking like Kyle. One happens when I'm watching football with my friends and the other happens when I get drunk. Granted, I do revert back to "Suck it" or some derogatory phrase like that whenever I want to make fun of someone but "suck it" is a phrase that someone truly deserves when they earn it. Anyway, whenever I'm watching football with my friends (Kyle included), we tend to sound like a bunch of retarded cavemen whenever any significant event such as a touchdown, fumble, or interception occurs. I can't help it to be honest. When 10 other guys are saying "ballin'," then you're more inclined to say it, regardless of any premontions that you have against it. Since football season has started, the past two Sundays have been filled with Kyle's words. It's almost as if he's putting words in mouth, but sadly that's not the case. My fantasy team has been pretty nasty, only helping my case to achieve item #33: Win a Fantasy Football Championship on my 99things list. So in the case of football, I think that it's definitely worth it, so long as I continue my winning ways. Here's to hoping.

The other time in which I use my roommate's sayings uncontrollably is when I'm drunk. I can't really help it when I'm under the influence. It's just like second nature to me in this case. Case in point, this past Friday. I went over to a friend's house to participate in a Tour de Franzia, which everyone should participate in at some point during their adult lives. Anyway, prior to arriving at my friend's house, my use of Kyleisms had been very limted at best. I had a busy week and there was really no time to dumb myself down and talk like a child. However, that quickly changed. I arrived late and completely missed the entire tour, thanks to my friends' inability to be patient for a few extra minutes. So with missing the event, my friends were already trashed and I needed to catch up. And that's what I did, as I caught up to my friends, downing cup after cup of Franzia in an effort to get trashed. As soon as the sweet taste of that fucking cheap wine hit my lips, all my preconcieved efforts to refrain from saying Kyle's words went right out the window. From the bits and pieces I remember of that night, probably every third word I said was either a "bo," or "ballin." That tells you how much I was able to charm others of the opposite sex, when I'm stumbling around with a cup of cheap wine in my hand, sounding like a bumbling fool. I guess I deserved what was coming for me, as I managed to paint the town with my vomit, literally. Suck it, me, as my favorite bo (Kyle) would say.

Thursday, September 4, 2008

#75: Stop Talking Like My Roommate

This goal is a new one that I've created. It's not for the sake of doing something on my list, it's more of trying to rid myself of a horrible habit. You see, I have a roommate whose expressions, phrases, and general incompetence has become contagious. His name is Kyle. And yes, he is fucking annoying. Don't get me wrong, he's a great friend and roommate, but this needs to stop. But in the three years that I've known him, I've been able to dumb myself down and act like him. It's something very hard, but yet I have done the impossible. His idiosyncrasies and sayings have become second nature to me. Whenever I try to make fun of or mock someone, it's Kyle's phrases that I turn to as my bread and butter. He has some great expressions that are perfect for some situations, but they're all fucking stupid. A five year old could come up with some these. So I'm breaking the habit and stopping this retarded cycle now.

The whole goal in this is simple. I want to sound smarter when I'm around others. Now that Kyle lives with me, I find myself going to the well of saying that Kyle would use too many times. Trust me, the ladies do not like it when I shake my head like a spaz or even sound like a whiny bitch. As I'm preparing to transition from college to the real world, I have to realize that not everyone thinks that Kyle's jokes are funny and perhaps there is another way to sound funny, although it might be hard to fathom.

Granted, I know that this is hard, I mean impossible, to complete. Not with saying that Kyle's vernacular or "Kyleisms" as I like to call them have corrupted my humor and sometimes make me look like a six year old. But rather the fact that Kyle is my roommate and he lives next door to me. By following through on this goal, I can no longer act like him when he tries to hit on me like a faggot (no homo), when I come into my room and find Kyle in my bed, or even anytime he does something stupid. I was able to do this before in the summer, because my parents thought I was fucking retarded whenever I said something that Kyle would say, and would refuse to acknowledge me until I sounded like a normal human being.

So for the rest of the semester, I am not allowed to say the following words/phrases:

- Bo.
- I bet.
- Suck it.
- Really?
- Seriously?
- S My D.
- Meh.
- any form of "beat it."
- shaking my head like a spaz

And the list goes on. I'm short on the all of the words he says, but I'll add them as they come to mind. This is entirely possible, but hard to do. However, it can be done and I'm confident that I'll succeed. I might slip up and there might be setbacks, but I'm comitted to the effort. We'll see what happens.

Once You Go Black, You Never Go Back, Right?

So one of the many highlights of my summer was my 21st birthday. As an only child that was constantly suppressed by my parents, my 21st birthday was going to be something amazing. Incredible would be another way to describe as it would be filled with drinking, more drinking, and hopefully scoring with a random chick. At least that's what I hoped. It never works out that way.

After spending my actual 21st birthday doing nothing but work and volleyball, I had to wait until the end of my swim season to finally celebrate. I went big with the 21st birthday. I set up an event on Facebook, invited everyone I thought would come, and hoped for the best. However, much to my dismay, many of the people that accepted were under 21. The point of inviting them was a joke, but apparently they didn't get that. Regardless of who showed up and who didn't, the 21st birthday party was still off the chain.

I first went with a few of my friends out to a driving range, drinking some brews and hitting some golf balls. I know I sound like a faggot when I wrote that, but its the truth. It felt really empowering to order beers. Especially when I was asked to display my ID. That feeling that I had every time I cracked open my wallet and flashed it was incredible. Anyway, back to the story. I spent a good amount of money at the driving range, picking up the tab as we heading into downtown DC for the rest of the night.

My friends and I went to Rhino Bar in Georgetown and details after that were very sketchy. Drinks by the handful were getting bought for me and of course, I was pounding them down. But the one thing that I do remember is an amazing story. I was on the bottom floor of the two-story bar with my friend from school, buying drinks for some friends. Suddenly, a nice-looking, sophisticated girl was looking my way and began to talk to me. For it being my first time out in Georgetown, I was quite impressed with myself that a lady began to talk to me. My friend and I began to talk to her and her friend, hoping for the best. When it seemed that her friend wasn't interested, I shifted my attention to the one who was giving me the time of day, not to mention the one with the bigger breasts.



I kept talking to this girl and eventually drank the drinks that I ordered for my friends. Being the stubborn person that I am, my goal that night was to try and get with this girl. Granted I do think with my crotch more than my brain when I'm intoxicated, but damnit I was trying. Some of the pickup lines I was using were like this:

"I may be 21 but I'm all man, baby."

"It's ok if you take advantage of me, I won't mind."

"What happened to your chopsticks?" (Not really.)

I was thinking that I was getting somewhere with these lines when she took me out on the dancefloor. I was feeling pretty good when I was dancing with this fine-ass chick, with boobs that were so big that she had to stop dancing every five minutes to adjust herself. I was freaking it with her since I was hammered, throwing my cautions to the wind. I didn't really care at that point if my friends were looking at me, I was trying hard to get what I wanted. However, shaking my ass like I've got junk in my trunk got nowhere. The next thing I know, some black guy comes in a steals my woman from here and promptly grinds his crotch and gyrates against her ass. It looked a lot like the picture below:


It was all of a sudden. In a moment's time, I went from "Big Pimpin" to "Sleeping Alone Tonight." Damnit, I was so mad. I had convinced my drunken self that she may have been with a black dude before, prompting me to text my friends the question "Is it true that once you go black, you never go back?" I don't know the answers I got back or even what compelled me to do such a thing. My memories of the night are fuzzy at this point, with exception of puking all over my DD's car. I clearly remember upchucking on 395 on the way home.

So here's the thing about the whole post. I know it was a long and boring story, and you probably didn't enjoy it. Is this myth true? I don't hate the guy, he had the same goal in mind that I had. But just the way he came in and seemingly swooped the girl away from me made me realize that maybe my moves aren't hip enough or even my neophytic ways in urban nightlife caught up with me. So readers, answer this? Is it true that once you go black, you never go back, right?

Monday, August 25, 2008

Top 10 of Summer 2008 (YAY)

At the request of a loyal commenter who apparently has had enough of my shit (and my lack of updating), I'm officially going back to the grind. Now, summer is over and I'm back at school, so I can no longer use lame excuses about how I'm tired or that I have things to do. So now there's really no excuse for me not to update. So here I am, writing again. Before we get back to my list of 99 things to do before I turn 30, by the way, which I only did two of this summer (Go me!), let me recap my summer, by a top 10 list of memorable moments.

10. Weekend Trip to the Lake.

I spent the night in a car since people don't understand the meaning of "going to bed."

9. Speeding Ticket

Went 53 in a 40. Big deal. I'm sure that the officer was hating on my red 2007 Corolla. Suck it, cop. You drive a Crown Victoria.

8. Broken Tooth

Stopwatch hits my face and cause me to break my tooth in half. Thanks 5 year old ball of mischief, you'll burn in hell for this.

7. Broken Arm

My dad broke his arm this summer. It sucked since he was in the hosptial for a week, but he'll be fine in a few months.

6. Coaches' 100 IM

After talking shit to one of my coaches in practice one day, he challenges me to a race and beats me. However, I would have the last laugh as I smoked him by 5 seconds a week later in the 100 IM

5. The Superhero Falls

Note to self: Never, ever run towards little kids dressed as Batman. You can't see and they'll more than likely punch you in the nuts and beat you to a pulp.

4. Greg Young's Prom Date

I found a prom date for my friend Greg. And he ended up winning prom king. It is probably one of my proudest accomplishments of my life. If only I could get a plaque of it and put it on my wall.

3. Dating Craigslist Girls

You can read the posts. If I had to sum it up in two words: NEVER AGAIN.

2. 21st Birthday

I'll explain this in my next post, because it needs to be mentioned. But it was an amazing night and my Mom cooked a bangin' breakfast the next morning.

1. Swim Coaching

Absolutely loved it. Wouldn't trade that experience for anything in the world.

Yeah, so that was my summer. Now back to finishing this list.

Friday, August 8, 2008

This Thing Still Works?!?!?

Yeah, so those posts that I promised you all, that never happened. In fact, it never got off the ground. I was going to give you guys a little "somethin somethin" to chew over in the sweltering heat, but I never got around to that. Obviously, my job was wayyyyy more important than writing in this shit that no one reads. But now its over and we're t-minus one week until I start my last semester at school. Since I have no work whatsoever and school is starting soon, I imagine I'll be writing in this more often, but we'll see. Also, to those who have been constantly refreshing their pages for the last five weeks in hopes of me writing a post, then I'm sorry. However, you should win something for your due diligence.

Now that I've been gone forever, I feel like I have to reintroduce myself now. As some of you may (or may not) know, I'm Jason, and this blog is a literary adventure about a life list I aspire to complete before I turn 30. Hence the title and the whole purpose of this site. There. I feel much better now about that.

Shit, it's 1:30 on Saturday morning and it's time that I get off this and get a fucking life. Or go to sleep, since my Mom has been keeping tabs on me all summer long. What a great parent. And so with that, I'll be back soon. I promise. I won't leave you in the car like last time.

Saturday, June 28, 2008

#51: Win a Swim Meet as a Head Coach


Instead of having this drag out all season or not even come to fruition at all, it only took my second meet to notch the first coaching win in my belt. We scored a major upset today, as we beat the top-seeded team in our division by 40 points. It was a very impressive win for us today, considered we were seeded dead last going into the season. I'm quite proud of my swimmers and they laid it all out on the line today for us.

I honestly could get into more details about the meet, but I must say that winning feels so good and makes any problems that you have dissipate. As I wrote previously about when I won my first meet, I was going to jump in the water and give the opposing coach the crotch chops, none of that happened. There was no ill will as we had one of those postgame handshake lines that you used to do after youth basketball games. It's looked so cheesy and corny, and it pales in comparison to the crotch crops. My swimmers did indeed throw me into the water, and I'm sure that they were very happy to do so. They deserved it. They've worked hard in the past few weeks and should bask in their moment of glory. It hasn't really hit me yet, so I'm kind of at a loss for words. I also lost my voice today and currently sound like a frog, so that might have something to do with being speechless. Hopefully, we can pull together another win next week, but we'll see.

I'm Not Dead

I'm back. I'd thought I never see the day. After taking a brief hiatus, I'd like to say that I've returned. It was probably more you and than me, as an e-mail popped up in my inbox saying that someone suggested that I should post something. So reader, I am here to save the day and to give you "something." You must realize that this isn't a type of blog that I'm going to update everyday. Unlike most bloggers, I do have a life and I'm not willing to compromise it so I can tell about this one time I did a kegstand. Bear with me, people. I preach patience in this case, for you might not like the spontaneous and irregular posts now, but you will be rewarded with good material in the future.

But readers and friends, there hasn't been much worth mentioning lately. Work has consumed me and pretty much ruins my entire life. It's fun and very rewarding, but the hours suck and it seems as if I only talk about swimming. That's all people ever ask about, "how's your team doing?" or "have you won a meet yet?" I wish I could ask them the same about how they're treating their herpes infection but of course, that's completely inappropriate and just plain wrong. Sure, I could talk about the many adventures of my coaching job, but half of those stories would consist of a nine year old who's amazingly talented but has a habit of slapping ass of both boys and girls, and how little girls are my nuts all of the time. And I know if I became one of those coaches that are still coaching when they're 40, then I'm sure I'll be the lead story on Chris Hansen's "To Catch a Predator" in a couple of years. But then again, I met a coach from another team who's like 35, and he looked like a fucking loser.

Other than that, I got really wasted on Saturday night. It was my friend's 21st birthday party and I proceeded to drink myself into a slow death with a medley of shots, beers, and God knows what else. I somehow managed to make it home before I proceeded to pass out in the living room, after spraying vomit all over the refrigerator and kitchen sink. Let me just say that Mom was not too happy to see her son dry heaving on the floor at three in the morning. But yeah, that's what I've done lately.

In regards to my life list, I haven't actively pursued it. Since the Craigslist date with that girl (yes, I ended up going on a second date, and she doesn't seem that bad). I don't think we have the same intentions, as I don't envision her to be a freak in the sheets and she doesn't envision me to praise higher powers. But she's fun and I have a good time with her. Luckily, she's in Honduras for the next six weeks (thank the fucking lord), so I have that much more time to come up with so many reasons to get in her pants. (haha not really). But I did complete one of my goals today, which is saying something. I'll post about that later.

Although, I'm up to my ears in coaching stuff, I will make this promise to you ladies and gents. I promise to try and update as much as possible. I'm not going to give you any filler, I want to put my best foot forward to you all since you deserve that. So I'll try. I'll put some more effort into this. Stay with me, people, as my writings will entertain throughly. I can assure you that.

Saturday, June 14, 2008

Tooflezzz

I got hit in the mouth the other day and knocked a tooth out. Not really exciting news, but bear with me, these last three weeks have not been intellectually stimulating for me.u c In fact, this is incredibly embarassing, considering how my tooth was smashed the cause for it. I honestly wish I could say that I got punched in the mouth by some thug, because losing a tooth in that manner would be really cool. Even curbstomping would have been better, because I must have done something that really deserved having my face kicked into a curb. But no, I had to have a tooth knocked out because of a fucking stopwatch that was around my neck.

You can thank a little six-year old girl for that one. She is the fucking devil and she jumped into my 13 and older practice the other night while they were swimming. I sent one of my swimmers to get her out of the water. Obviously, the swimmer I sent to go fetch her didn't work, so I came running over with my stopwatch around my neck. I was jumping up and down for some reason, probably because of the way the girl was screaming as she was being dragged out of the water. And so the stopwatch came up and got me in the mouth. The next thing I knew, my tooth flew out of my mouth and onto the pool deck. So instead of swallowing my pride and finishing practice like a man, my self-conscious side didn't want to be seen with a front tooth missing, so I canceled the rest of practice and fucking freaking as I was missing a tooth. Needless to say, I got it fixed the next day and it's all good. Except for the fact that I had to cut up a cheeseburger today during a swim meet. So ballin' indeed.

in fact it's embarassing, especially by how and with what the tooth was smashed.

Sunday, June 8, 2008

Catfight 2K8

So in my last post, I wrote about a good friend of mine who had fallen out of favor because of his Facebook profile, not to mention his other shenanigans. I was going to defriend him on Facebook because I was tired of reading his shit on my news feed about how he was bitching and complaining. When I'm on Facebook, I want to know about juicy shit, like wall-to-wall conversations and relationship status changes, not status updates about how fucked up someone's life is. It's mildly entertaining for a time but after three years of this shit continually popping up on my Facebook, it has become quite a problem. And when you have a problem, you usually fix it, which is what I did. Yes, I defriended him. As much as it pains me to cut off connections to the guy, I don't want this fucker to ruin my Facebook experience. I decided that this was the instance to finally grow some balls and man up. This is CATFIGHT 2K8 PEOPLE!!!

In one corner, there was me: the person was tired of this person's shit and ready to react. I was going to float like a butterfly with my big words and sting like a bee with my verbal barbs. This wasn't stuff for kids anymore, like our previous struggles had been, this was a full-on war. I have three years of college under my belt and a vocabulary that would make any novelist blush. Plus, I had an arsenal of curse words to fly out, if I ever showed any signs of frustration-aggression syndrome.

In the other corner, was my friend: a whiny bitch. He was on a mission to attract sympathy and attention from others from his constant cries of "wolf" and the ever-so-popular "I'm lonely and I haven't seen you in forever, so let's hang out" card. In addition to his bitching and whining, he was never a great friend, as he always backed out of hanging with his friends whenever he was home, to butter up his "ladyfriends." Not to mention he also sucks at basketball, as he once received a standing ovation for making a free throw, his only point of the entire season.

Round 1: My friend wrote a rant on Facebook a few weeks that touched on controversial subjects. I finally had the balls to stand up to and comment on, calling him a complete hypocrite. He was writing about things that he never does. Treating ladies with respect? Please, son. All he ever did was scare them away with his unwanted advances of "hanging out" and countless references to them as "sweetie," "dearie," and my favorite, "sugarpie." I was being completely honest about it, for I felt that he was bullshitting his readers. (Score 1-0 the J-Man)

Round 2: Since I wrote some negative things about his rant, my friend isn't going to let me get away with the devastating early blow. He fires back with a quick response to me, saying "You don't know me and you think you can know me after not talking to me in months. Uh huh." Something like that. I would love to tell you what he wrote, but I deleted it from my wall, because I'm not going to take shit like that. I've known that person for years and I know him better than he knows himself. (Score 2-1 the J-Man's in the lead)

Round 3: Since my friend had the decency of taking this battle to the walls of our Facebook profiles, I figured that it would only be fitting to return the favor. Of course, being the bitch that he is, he blocked my access to his wall, so I couldn't respond. I resorted to send him a message, explaining to him that I may not know who he is, but if he can't take honest criticism, then he shouldn't post anything for people to see. And with that, I defriended him. Suck it. (3-2)

Round 4: In a futile attempt to regain some decency, he blocks me, which makes absolutely no sense, especially when I can't see his profile anyway. Nice try, tool. (3-3, I'll give him one for effort)

So that's how it went down. Who won? You decide.

Ed. Note: I mean, of course, I could defriend him without the shenigans that transpired above, but what's starting shit without some controversy and fireworks? This is so much more exciting than clicking on a link. If you think I'm wrong in any way and have beef for the way this occurred, then you probably don't understand and have a friend like this, yet refuse to see it. It's not about losing a friend, but rather cutting dead weight out of my life. As harsh that seems, its the truth. Sometimes, you have to do what you have to do for sake of doing it, even if it's not popular and not the best option.

Tuesday, June 3, 2008

I'm Defriending You

Dear Friend (or that's what we were),

I seriously doubt that you'll ever read this, for you apparently "don't care what people think." However, I know that in due time, you will stumble upon this very website and actually be affected by what I write in this blog. Shocking isn't it, for how you care so little about your friends' lives until it's way too late. So since you're a complete asshole, blunt and direct in your language, I'm going to break it down in a way for you to understand. I'm defriending you on Facebook. You are annoying and I am sick and tired of reading your status feeds that make you seem like the little bitch that you really are. I don't defriend people usually, shit, I'm still friends with my roommate from Freshman year who tried to fuck my world over. I mean, I'm going severely hurt him if I ever see him again, but yet I have still maintained the decency to be Facebook friends with him. But you, of all people, has perpetually crossed the line with our friendship, but also on Facebook, which sufficiently warrants me to defriend you immediately.

You'll probably ask, "Why are you defriending me? We were such good friends, we go back to first grade. You remember that time that you were in my Prom group?" Before I divulge into the countless reasons as to why I'm getting rid of your sorry ass on Facebook, I must admit that you annoy the hell out of me on Facebook. And so I make this easy to read for you, I will list these in numerical order, from 1 to whatever number it takes to prove my point.

1) Your political views are as follows: "The government is lying to you. Do not believe everything you hear." Look asshole, don't tell me your views on how you think the US government is corrupt. If you don't like it, then get the fuck out. So people (i.e. me) still like this country and the many opportunities that it provides people. Also, I just want to know if you're a fucking liberal or conservative. Don't give a fucking spiel about the government. I don't tell you what to believe and you shouldn't do the same to anyone else.

2) Your religious views: "******ism - the set of morals and beliefs that I live by." Fucking great man. Glad you have your religion dude. Except no one their right mind would follow it. I have my own beliefs as well, but I don't call it "J-Martism" or anything like that. Keep them to yourself.

3) Your status updates. Look, I care about you as a friend, but everytime you write "_____ isn't happy and won't be going to sleep again" for the millionth time in the past month, it makes me wonder if you're just screaming for attention. It just seems like you're crying wolf, except that no one cares this time. Suck it up if you're not happy. I have a lot of friends on Facebook and yet you're the only one who constant is upset and unhappy. Jesus Christo motherfucker, be happy for once.

4) Your notes. Practice what you preach, son. Especially this part:
"Talk to women like actual people. Respect their wishes. If a woman tells you she just wants to be friends, then respect and don't push for more than what she wants. That's only going to make things worse. Don't get into a relationship unless you really want it and you really want to make it work."
Don't forget the countless number of women that you have scared off because you're a fucking creeper. Asking to hang out with all of the women that you are obsessed with is unacceptable. T Especially over Facebook where people who are curious such as myself are bound to see it. There's a reason why they don't want to hang out with you, because you are fucking weird and you're madly in love with them. Bros before hos, man. Remember that.

5) You haven't wished me "Happy Birthday" on Facebook in over 2 years... in fact, you've never sent birthday wishes my way. Die, cunt, die. I don't really care all that much about Facebook love, but man we went way back. It's the fucking least you can do after all of these years. It's just two words man. Happy. Birthday. That's it. Show some love every once in a while instead of buttering up women with your "suave" wall posts.

6) On the other hand, I've returned the favor by sending you my birthday wishes every fucking year. What a great friend you are. Asshole.

7) Your quotes. They're way too long and obstruct my journey from the top of the profile on down to the bottom. It's great that you quote Sailor Moon, but wasn't that an anime cartoon from a long time ago. Please don't tell me you still like that show from like 5th grade. Oh right, you're still a fucking loser.

8) You delete my wall posts. I once wrote "baby, i'll be your hero" responding to your status that "you were holding out for a hero." Apparently, you cannot take a joke and thus you cannot be my friend on Facebook.

So there. As you can see, I have given you eight good and sound reasons as to why I'm defriending you solely from your actions on Facebook. If you want more, I have a list of them. Not necessarily a list, but if you give me a pen, paper, and some time, I could make a laundry list that even the Kennedys would be jealous of. Now that would be something to be proud of. Goodbye.

Sincerely,

Me

Saturday, May 31, 2008

Suggestions Now Welcome

Now that I've completed blinddating on Craigslist for now (once this summer is enough). I'm putting the power of the next item on my list to complete in your hands. If you will notice, at the top left of this page, there is a Skribit feature. (I'd also like to thank Barry Melrose Rocks for the wonderful idea). Call it a suggestion box, if you will, but I'm interested to hear in what I should do next. In my opinion, I'm at a crossroads with this list. Some of these items can't be completed right now because of logistics and constraints I have with work. Yeah, working three hours a day right now is really hampering my plans. Other items can't be completed because I'm not of legal age to do so and I'm not looking for any more trouble with my school before I graduate, so those are out of the question. Also, there are some I don't want to do, but could be done. However, they would make a lot of people mad and I'd probably get myself killed for some of them (i.e. punch someone in the face). It's not a forgone conclusion, but I have a strange feeling that no one is going to let me punch them in the face without any repercussions.

So my readers, the power is in your hands. Pick the next thing I should do on my list. I'd love to hear your input and you and maybe two other people are what makes this site go. The power is in your hands. And if I agree with your sentiments, then perhaps I will do it. As a reference point, I would recommend looking at this before you start typing away in that box. So good luck and godspeed. Hopefully, you all come up with something interesting.

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Fuck Anyone Named Stephen

After much correspondence via e-mail, the girl and I finally decided to meet up. Even though I do have apprehensions about this, especially with her being extremely religious and not very attractive, I decided to go through it anyway, since I was the one who brought up the idea of meeting up. I stupidly gave her my phone number and yesterday, I awoke to a "good morning! :-)" text from her. I suddenly thought that going out with her was probably the highlight of her day, while it was probably fourth or fifth for me, behind coaching, going to the gym, making a ballin' rap/techno mix, and watching paint dry on walls. I could bore you on the details of how the story kept going, but all that happened was a series of texts between her and I, which made my feelings about this progressively worse. I know, boring shit.

The date itself wasn't bad. It wasn't good either, which doesn't really tell you much. It was a weird date. Although I tried and tried and tried to convince myself to back out of this while I could, I followed through with the date. Not to say that I attempted to cancel, by playing the "I don't know where it is, so I can't come" card. I've had people cancel on me before, shit, I even had once girl lie about the fact that her aunt was dead so she could leave. It would only be fitting if I were to return such a favor. However, that was quickly shot down as she texted me the address of the place, which thwarted my plans. I mean I like to say that I'm a man of my word, but when it comes to women and dating, I'm very picky and will backtrack to force my way out of things.

I orignially thought the date was between her and I, just a nice little romantic dinner between the two of us where we would eat, get to know each other, and go our separate ways. But no, that's never the case. After parking my car in Northwest, paying some dude $20 with the hope that my car won't get broken into, and briskly walking towards the restaurant, I see her. However, she's not by herself, she's standing with two other people. The texts I ignored during the car ride came back to bite my in the ass, as one them included "is it cool if i bring my friends?" Obviously, it was too late to say FUCK NO, but you have to go with what you can. Apparently, I didn't know what I was getting myself into. I finally met with the girl, her friend, and her friend's boyfriend, Stephen.

Now I mentioned Stephen's name, because I fucking hate him. Stephen is the epitome of everything I do not like about people in the world. He is fat, a complete tool, a fucking nerd, speaks with annoying lisp, and thinks he is hot shit. Stephen is the guy on the right in the picture, because he kept his Facebook profile public like a real asshole would. (Suck it.) I would have smacked him for some of the things that he said, but that would not have worked out so well, because Stephen was once in the Air Force. At the restaurant in which we ate at, there was a booth where there is a small table that is surrounded by large cushions and looks rather scenic. Once we enter the restaurant, Stephen comes up with the bright idea for us to sit at the booth.

Yes, it was a great idea at the time, but no one would have expected poor Stephen to break a sweat slurping his soup. Once he gets his Tortilla Soup from the waiter, Stephen begins to perspire as if we're in the middle of the desert. Of course, we moved, so that the poor man would not soak himself in sweat during the course of eating. Stephen was not feeling much better now that he was away from the blazing hot lights of the booth. He finishes his soup and randomly decides that he is going to mix the salsa and queso that we ordered separately, into the same bowl. Without consulting the rest of our table, Stephen is proactive and proceed to dump the entire bowl of salsa in the piping-hot container of queso. Great idea once again, Stephen. It's too bad that I didn't like my salsa and cheese mixed together because I was eating some damn good chips.

The girl and I finally begin to talk to each other and things seem to be going well. That is, until Stephen interjects and starts talking about himself. I can't remember what he was saying for the life of me, but it sounded really important because he was making all of these crazy arm movements and was still sweating profusely. It felt like I was talking to an animal the whole night, because I couldn't understand the guy with his lisp and he made really spastic movements like a retard. Oh yeah and then there was that one time he got really excited about something and the next thing I knew, spit flew onto my burrito. Thanks Stephen, I bet you were hoping that I didn't see that. But I did dumbfuck. Don't think you got away with that shit.

Speaking of Stephens, I fucking hate all Stephens. For instance, I'm watching TRL (don't ask why) and the fan of the week's name is Stephen. He's from Canada, was probably dropped as a baby, and is a complete tool. The rest of date wasn't worth mentioning, which leads me to believe that the girl is incredibly boring. I was invited to hang out with them after dinner, but of course, doing so would result in me hurting Stephen. Fuck Stephen. I fucking hate him.

Friday, May 23, 2008

Eureka!!!


Finally! After wasting countless hours on the abyss of life that I'd like to call Craigslist, I found not one but TWO breakthroughs this week! I have found two lucky ladies who have fallen victim to my suave e-mail correspondence and want to go on dates with me. But first, before I explain who these ladies are, at this point, I now know for a fact that women who post personal ads are Craigslist are either a) ugly, b) fat, c) batshit crazy, d) retarded, or e) all of the above. Nearly half of the e-mails I have written are complete lies and even typing how I think some girl looks sexy in her half-naked picture wearing a bra that look like something my mother would wear, made me cringe. Of course, the likely answer in all of my encounters has been e), especially with that fat bitch who told me that she wasn't going to change my diapers. Unfortunately, I forgot that woman was retarded and couldn't see the fact that I was 20 fucking years old and I can not only shit but also wipe for myself. It's amazing to see how kids grow up so fast.

The first girl I'm going on a date with isn't that bad. Honestly, she's not. She seems somewhat normal and she and I have a lot of common interests like good food, going on adventures, and drinking. Yes, drinking is an interest. Or at least I hope that's what she was referring to in her last e-mail. But (key word right there), she has two strikes against her already, and I haven't even met the girl yet. For one thing, she's very religious, something that I'm not. I can tolerate that as long as we don't spend our date going to church or taking about religion, a subject I'm not comfortable with. And the other, much worse thing, is her music tastes. Her favorite band is Creed. Enough said, I don't care you bust your own rhymes or like Journey and Maroon 5, liking Creed is the ultimate kiss of death. Look, I liked Creed back in middle school until I realized that Scott Stapp is a fucking creep and all of their songs were about God. She's also not very attractive, but I'm not going to count that against her, because I knew that the quality of women coming into this were lacking.

But anyway, her name is the name of a Clapton song and hopefully if things go well, I could serenade her with my very own rendition of it. Unlikely, yes, but you never know. She's 21 and she's studying to be a missionary. It's very interesting to do such a thing, to help people better their lives, as long as she doesn't do this or impose the will of God on them.

Now on the other hand, the other girl that is "absolutely dying" (as she says) to meet me is a whole different beast. Not only is she ugly, she likes country music and can't even spell. That would be enough for me to not even to look at the person, but since I'm doing this to be a complete asshole and for my seven readers' amusement, she sounds like the girl for me. She's like a perfect match, if you would say so. I have nothing in common with this girl, the only reason I even clicked on her ad is because it said "Looking for a Cowboy" and she had a picture. Yes, I am that selective it comes to clicking on personal ads. Hook me with something tempting and shit, I'm in. However, this girl is something else. I can't tell if she's retarded, lazy, or just fucking dumb. It might be any of those, but who knows, it could be all three.



For instance, I told the girl that I was a swim coach since she asked what I did for a living. Not the greatest career in the world, but it makes better money than being a temp or waiting tables. Instead of explaining her response, I'll simply copy and paste:
"What pool are you working at there is a pool over hear and omg the people are rich and think there shit doesn't stink is it in bethesda??? And if it is in bethesda and off of macarher then lol 2 of the boys are mine i nanny them!"
Woman, what the fuck did you say? I think you said about six or seven separate thoughts, but I can't tell since there are only two freaking sentences. And I honestly don't care about the kids you nanny. Yeah, you think you're hot shit since you nanny them, but you can't spell a lick...Not the greatest role model I'd want my kids to be like. Plus, I have had enough interaction with kids already in my life to make me not want them, and if I did, their lives would not be pretty. Let me continue on with the e-mail. Like all of the e-mails that I send to my ladies, I ask them the four people that they would invite to dinner (living or dead, real or fake, doesn't matter). While some people answered with intelligent responses such as Oscar Wilde or JFK, this woman has decided to have a nice family reunion at dinner, as shown below:
"Now for dinner, I would say my dad he died when I was 13 so I would like to show him how I've turned out even more messed up then he hoped lol! Then my mom's mom jan even thou I never got to meet her i hear the most wonderful things about hr and everyone says I am just like her! and when i was little I called her jam i couldn't say n's very well! My mom I havn't seen her in over a year just be nice to talk! Oh and Dessalee lol the person I was named after!"

My point exactly. Here's to not losing my sanity in the week, or even my life.

Jeopardy Update

Last week, Jeopardy hosted its annual College Championship where the best and brightest from some of the finest institutions that this nation has to offer, for a chance to win cash and other assorted prizes. However, I never got the memo that my school, a school known for its inferior academic reputation, had a student on the program. I knew the girl my freshman year and from my few interactions with her, she did not seem like the sharpest tool in shed. Case in point: She defriended me on Facebook soon after I met the girl. Why? I have no idea. Perhaps I wasn't the person I portray myself to be on social networking sites when she first added me as a friend. Or maybe it was because she was trying to get freaky with my roommate who managed to get himself nearly kicked out of college in the matter of six weeks. There's a million different reasons for why these things happen, but she's pretty fucking dumb in my book. She obviously made that known to Mr. Trebek and the rest of the world, as she didn't advance very far in tournament.

But the point is this people: Jeopardy is now looking for entrants in next year's College Championship and are offering an online test for those interested. Of course, with my vast knowledge of things that are useless and weird, I am applying to be on the Championship. Granted, my odds are incredibly slim, since there are college students out there that are much smart than I am and I will probably miss the test like I did last time. Hopefully, that won't happen, as I will not endure any more waiting for my stardom on syndicated television shows. Suck it, Trebek. I'm coming and this time, I won't be taking any prisoners.

Saturday, May 17, 2008

#51: Win a Swim Meet as a Head Coach

As some of you may know already, I have been hired to be a swim coach this summer. While becoming a swim coach in the summer before I graduate college isn't the smartest move in the world, it was something that I wanted to do. Getting a job and working in the "real world" is all fine and dandy, but it sucks so much balls. If I got a real job this summer, I would be doing the exact same things I did last summer, where I absolutely hated my job and my life as a result. When your boss calls you "Jason the Mason" as a way to encourage you to try and fit into a jersey for a one-armed cyclist, you know you're on the wrong career track. So while I learned how to make copies, build boxes, and mail packages, I also got my fair share of having my desk moved, getting yelled at for anything, and everything else I touched, said, or did.

Knowing full well that I wasn't going to resort to being an "office bitch" for yet another summer, I was on the hunt for a new job. I got a lot of interest from places where I applied, but of course it was either one thing or another that turned me away from those jobs. As a way to make some decent money and to actually have some fun this summer, I decided to get back into coaching swimming. I had a great time when I was a coach a few years back and I really enjoyed working with kids. I taught them how to swim and many life lessons such as not shitting in the shower or exactly where to deliver that knockout punch. Fond of those memories, I applied with a few teams in my area that were in need of a swim coach, and suddenly found myself hired as a head coach within weeks. So here I am, the day before I become formally introduced as the head coach of my team, and I have my mind on one thing this season: Winning a swim meet.


So here's the deal. In my first and perhaps only season as a head coach of a swim team, I just want to win one swim meet. I don't think its that hard. I just want to experience the joy of victory just once. I don't care if my team loses the rest of our meets, I just want to win one. It's not too much to ask for, just one. We have five meets this season, so I'll take a .200 winning percentage in my career, so long as I have that one meet. And if I win that meet, I'm going to go fucking crazy. I'm going to high five everyone, scream like a child, and go apeshit over the fact that I won a meet. There's no doubt in mind I will give the other team the crotch chops an infinite number of times and tell them all to suck my dick. And then I'll take off all of my clothes and jump in the water. Something like that. Of course that will never happen because it's just a figment of my imagination and I would get arrested if I did such a thing.

However, there is a catch. I have my back against the wall this season as my team has moved up two divisions after winning their division championship last summer. We have tougher opponents this time around and they'll be looking to win after disappointing season. My team is seeded last in our division and we're supposed to finish that way this year. However, I want to shock the world. Although going 0-fer this season is par for the course, I want to do better than that and exceed expectations. I want to shock the world, in a sense. Make the impossible possible and prove everyone wrong. I've done it once before and I'm sure I can do it again. It all starts tomorrow, the quest to win a swim meet. This summer is going to be, as I would say, ballin.

Monday, May 12, 2008

Craigslist Updates

I now know why people pursue and use online dating. Because they fucking suck at life and cannot get a date to save their lives. In the week that I have browsed the Craigslist women-for-men personal ads, the assortment of ads that I have seen have ranged from women WHO WRITE IN ALL CAPITAL LETTERS AND YET THEY CANT SPEL A SINGEL THIGN WRITE to the women who don't want to be hurt yet again in a relationship only because the guy probably came to the conclusion that she was butt-ugly. Oh yeah, I would be remiss if I didn't mention the massive amounts of ads where fat black women have an obsession for skinny white boys such as myself. I would not be surprised if these women ate those poor young men instead of suffocating and crushing them with their massive frames.

As I write this post, I have responded to a bunch of personal ads on Craigslist and I have not gotten far with anyone. No one. Out of the many desperate people that I have contacted in the past week, I haven't gotten past the second e-mail, which may be a sign that they are not real, or they have found another man to bitch and complain to. (Don't cry for me, I'm happy that these women don't have to contact me ever again.) I'm convinced that these women on Craigslist are bots for dating websites, as many of the e-mails in response to the ones that I send are advertisements for me to try these sites. Personally, I think it's a brilliant idea that these sites do this, as a way to draw desperate love-seeking people to their site. However, it does not work for my plan, which has nothing to do with finding love, but rather breaking women's hearts and destroying any self-esteem that I have in undertaking this.

So here's the deal. I plan to complete whore myself out to the internets soon. If they're fat, skinny, bitchy, psycho, or just plain ugly, I want them. I want to take them out to a nice seafood dinner and never call them again. I want to give them the impression that I'm serious with them and then just break their heart. I want to know what it feels like to go on a date with an ugly woman with a beard or hell, a woman with a hairpiece. I'll them that their prosthetic leg is sexy and how I'll get a hard-on if they show me their stump.* The point is, I want to get this done as soon as possible and I don't want this to draw out over the summer and interfere with my life. I don't care what happens, I just want this to end.

*- No way. That is fucking disgusting and anyone should be ashamed if they like to beat it to that. Sick fuckers.

Tuesday, May 6, 2008

#45: Blinddate on Craigslist

A couple of weeks ago, I asked you all what kind of girl I should date on Craigslist. Surprisingly you all responded and showed no mercy, as you all voted for me to date all of them. I know that was going to freaking happen. To even think why I put this on the list or even think about it in the first place is unfathomable. Dating on Craiglist is such a stupid idea. Craigslist is for people who can't get a date or are just looking to get high or their d wet. Hell, Craigslist isn't for me, because I have had my share of hookups/relationships in the past year, regardless of how awkward they may have been. Despite how much of a bad idea this seems to be, I cannot disappoint my readers and goddamnit, I need some amusement in my life. So over the course of the next few weeks, I will undertake the process of going on dates with a fat bitch, a Jesusfreak, a black woman, and a foreign woman. ed note: What the hell did I get myself into?

So before I begin my search, I have standards. Shocking isn't it? So when I'm doing this, I'd like to keep whatever amount of pride, if any, that I will have after this. My standards are as follows:

1) They cannot be that ugly. A little displeasing on the eyes is ok. But butt-ugly? No way. I have to understand that Craigslist is not the place for beautiful women and must accept medocrity in this case.
2) The woman must provide herself with a picture. I want to know what she looks like, so I can either recognize her or run away from her. I think that the latter is more acceptable.
3) The woman has to between the ages of 18 and 23. I don't want an old bitch who has a thing like a "career." What the fuck is that shit? Plus, I think I can better relate to a younger woman, instead o
f someone who graduated high school in 1990.
4) The woman must meet me at a neutral location. I will not pick the bitch up. I plan on ditching a couple of times since women tend to lie about their appearance and I do not expect any difference with this.
5) A date will consist of at least dinner in a neutral place. No romantic dinners at their place. No weird-ass activities that may want me to leave. I want to get to know the person.
6) I will pay only for myself. It's a tough time in the economy and I do not want to spend any more money than I have to. I will not pay for them unless we either go to McDonalds or hit up my college's dining hall so I can use my Bonus Bucks. Since school's out of the summer and it's eight hours away, that's completely out of the question. Plus, this person may be fat and could eat the whole fucking restaurant. Do you know how much that is? I don't but I'm sure I don't want to find out. Call me a cheapskate, but remember I'm the only person wh
o's willing to take your desperate ass out on a date.
7) I will return home after the date. No, I will not in for coffee so you can take advantage of me. That is not going to happen. I'm 20 years old and I still live my parents. As ballin' as that is, they show their love and affection for me by checking up on me routinely.
8) There will be no second dates. Unless they absolutely blow me away, which is unlikely.
9) No Cheesecake Factory. I am not going to let some woman ruin the fond memories that I have of my favorite restaurant.

With that being said, this is not going to go well. After browsing through the many, many personal ads on Craigslist, I do not like what I see. Living near Washington DC, one of the biggest cities in the country, you'd like to think that there would be something redeeming about one of these posts. B
ut no, there isn't. For example let me show you.

Girl #1: "Lookin for that someone"

Age: 23

You Had Me At... "He say's "Would you like to go out" what he really meant was "I want you to come with me to go to the nearest Payday Loan place and get him money."


Damn right, get that man some money. Next.



Girl #2: "Looking for a possible relationship."

Age: 19

You Had Me At..."I want someone who can tolerate an extremely lame sense of humor (me). Race means nothing to me. Religion, a bit more. I don't want a Christian-basher for a possible future boyfriend. Alcoholics, sexual deviants, liars, cheaters, and other such baggage is not welcome."

Jesus Christo! It looks like my lucky day! + 1 for looking like a total freak. Next.




Girl #3: "wife me"
Age: 19

You Had Me At..."no body over 30 pls...i dont have time fr no bitch ass ness"

I don't think I'm a "bitch ass," so she might be good enough for me. Holla.

Oh man. This is going to be fun.

Summer

At last, the drawn-out clusterfuck called college has finally ended for the summer. Thank the fucking lord. Don't get me wrong here. I love college, especially the Thursday night - Sunday morning part of it. But everything else fucking sucks about college. I fucking hated this semester, in regards to the sheer amount of work I had to do and how I found myself at the library at all times, whether it be day or night. But now that's over and I only have one freakin' semester left until I graduate (BALLIN').

Now, I'm home for the summer and a new chapter begins. No longer am I occupied by the meddlesome tasks that school leaves me with. Now, I have all of this free time on my hands, especially from now until Memorial Day, for which I do not have a job until then. Speaking of jobs, I do have a job where I love what I do and I wonder why I'm paid way too much to basically yell at children and make their lives miserable for two months. But it's great work and someone has to do it.

We've got three months here at home people. I plan on making this an enjoyable three months and I hope you guys stick along for the ride and salivate on my posts that will be few and far between.

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Finals

Don't expect much over the next week. I've got finals tomorrow and Thursday and I'm currently in the process of moving back home for the summer. I've been seriously questioning my motives to study since I need 60's and 70's on my finals to get A's. Bow in the presence of genius, people. So those who are waiting for another scintillating post will have to wait a little more. I promise that this summer will be full of fun and adventure.

Friday, April 25, 2008

#64: Learn a Dance (part IV)

Finally! I have learned a motherfucking dance. After wasting my Monday nights, learning the same repetitive moves, and listening to music that makes my ears bleed, I'd like to think I successfully passed the shagging course that I took this semester. I'd like to think so because I just had my debut last night, but whether or not I pass Intro to Shag remains to be seen.

The reason I'd like to say I've passed my Shagging Class is because I had my debut last night. Yes, that debut that was long awaited by me and what I publicized multiple times on this very site. Well, it happened and it pretty much went without a hitch. It was nothing like I expected. Instead of the glaring lights and everyone watching me dance with some ugly bitch, I was dancing on the floor with a bunch of other people, having a good time.

But there was a slight problem with the debut last night. My debut happened to occur at the same time as the Game 3 of the Cavaliers-Wizards series. I understand the first two games were duds from the perspective of a Wizards fan such as myself, but the thrashing that the Wizards incurred on the Cavs and LeBron last night made me so happy. Upon hearing that the Wizards were winning by 25 in the third quarter, I promptly left the dancefloor to go watch my beloved Wizards destroy LeBron. I'm not a big fan of shagging, and I couldn't really give a fuck about it especially when my team is beating the living crap out the team and player that I despise the most. I stayed and watched the game until my friends arrived. By the way, thank you all who showed up, you know you are, and I really appreciate it.

And now, upon the completion of learning how to shag, the days of me having two left feet are long gone baby. Watch out world, because this guy (me) is a dance machine who is a force to be reckoned with. Bring any lady my way, and I'm sure I will be able to seduce her with my amazing dance skills. But the point is that the Wizards > shagging, every fucking time, no matter what.

With that being said, I now have 8 out the 99 things on my list completed. It's a start and hopefully, with summer, things on the list will start to get done instead of being incessantly talked about.

Friday, April 18, 2008

Correction

You Dirty Google!

Apparently, Google Image Search has a dirty mind when it comes to looking up images related to the tag of "shagging." I would love to share the many wonderful images of naked women getting boned, but you can search for it and beat off to it for yourself. Instead, I decided on a nice little picture of a man fucking a sheep via Photoshop.

Lucky enough for you, my shagging debut was not last night. In fact, it won't be another week. It's not until NEXT Thursday, April 24. Same time, same place. So if you want to come, listen to some Bee Gees and Temptations, and dance a little bit, you're more than welcome to do so.

But of course not.

If you're going to come, you're only coming to watch me make a fool of myself on the dancefloor. And that's fine, so long as you enjoy it. Come out and have some fun next Thursday. I hopefully won't be seeing you there.

#81: Start Beef with Someone

Although I'd like to think of myself as a nice person, there are some people I just hate. And most of the time I don't even know them. They just give off a look that makes you want to punch them in the face. I guess that's what college can do to you, making you hate any person who even has the semblance of a douchebag. The best example of this is my roommate.


this is what google thinks a douchebag is. however, not my roommate.

I never thought I would have a roommate as bad as the first one I had my freshman year of college. That first one is the roommate from hell. At least my freshman roommate would talk to me, and then would steal my shit, try to sell me knives, cut raw meat on his desk, sexile me, and best of all almost got me kicked out of school. Way to go first roommate! This new roommate isn't as bad, but he's a close second. He's annoying, angry, dirty, and French. (ed note: I am by no means an ethnocentrist, but him being French doesn't really help out a whole lot.) Did I ever mention that he doesn't talk to me? Yeah, what a fucking jerk.

You're thinking that maybe I'm not giving this guy a chance. You'd probably say "he's probably a good guy." No. Absolutely not. This year, I made the decision to live international exchange students, as a resume booster and way to "spread my wings" as they say. When I first met my roommate, he seemed like a nice guy, but he looked like he was trying too hard to be a rebel. He liked smoking cigarettes all the time, listening to "punk" music, and coming off to others a whiny little bitch. Whenever, my roommate got really excited about something, he would say "DEWDE! DEWDE! DAT'S SOOOO KEWL! DEWDE! YAA!" so much that it would make me want to rip his vocal cords out.

He and I started out on friendly terms, but that lasted only for so long. The nice, affable guy that I first met turned into a complete recluse, shutting his door and always bitching about shit. He would also completely ignore me and my other roommates, and its gotten to the point I can't take his high-browed, egotistical ways. Everytime I turn on the fan on our apartment to turn cool the place down, he always turns it off like a little bitch. Everytime I place my music too loud, he bitches about it and tells me to turn it down, yet when he rocks out to Less Than Jake, I can't say shit to him. The last straw came this past week, when I returned to finding a towel that was dry, crusty, and smelling of "sex."Needless to say, I was disgusted by this and that was motivation enough to finally pull the trigger on this.

So here's the point: I hate my roommate. I'm tired of his shit. Therefore, I am going to start some shit with him and fight fire with fire. If he wants to play this game of being a little bitch, then two can play. I plan on annoying the fuck out of my roommate for te next two weeks and get him back for all the bitching and faggotry he's done for the past 8 months. I hope I have the balls to do it, because I want to make him pay, but at the same time, I don't want to get in a lot of trouble for it. This douchebag deserves it.

Suggestions for retribution are more than welcome. Leave your comments as what I should do. We need to make him pay.

Saturday, April 12, 2008

Winnah!!!




Many thanks to the 11 people who actually voted in my latest poll: "What kind of girl should I date next?" But in reality, the thanks should go out to my friend Mike, who apparently voted three times in this poll, so I certainly hope his choice prevailed. As for the poll, about a month ago, I asked you all the kind of girl I should date next. The whole thing behind the poll is that I need to start dating again. It's been nearly nine months since I last had a girlfriend and drunken hookups with college coeds are just not cutting it these days. I need something more, perhaps a little something something on the side that I can just wine and dine, and perhaps something more. (holy shit, i said "something" four times in that last sentence) Nothing too much, it's not like I'm finding someone to marry with this whole endeavor.

As with the poll, I gave you, the people, four different types of girls that I could conceivably date, and then the option for me to delight in the whole shmorgasboard(sp) of these fine women. And the winner of the poll is...ALL OF THEM!!!!! Apparently, you all like to see me suffer through this pain and treachery of dating a fat chick, a bitch, a foreign woman, and a Jesusfreak. Fuck you all. Unlike the previous poll, I will man up to this and in fact, date all these women. I might as well, because I have nothing currently coming my way and this will be mildly entertaining.

My plan of action to do this in conjunction with one of the 99 things on my list, #45: Blind date on Craigslist. I plan to use the online dating service of Craigslist, a site notoriously known for SWF's who are just down to get freaky. I often read these posts and find how hilarious the people who are searching for their Mr. Right with qualities that no man has. And now I'm going to come into these women's worlds and completely fuck their lives up even further. (Go me!) This will be interesting, to say the least. I'm actually going to wait to do this until I return home for the summer, because I think I can get a better scope of what I'm looking for in Washington, DC rather than in Columbia, SC. Here's to hoping that this isn't a disaster.

Friday, April 11, 2008

#64: Learn a Dance (Part III)

So as my five loyal followers may be aware of this, I'm currently taking a shagging (the dance, not fucking) class this semester. As this semester is beginning to wind down and now that I've learned all of these flippin' sweet dance moves, it's time to put them work. You see, part of my grade in this class is to make a public debut and "shag" in public in front of everyone who wishes to see it. So, yeah. I'm comforted to know that I'm going to get laughed and embarass myself throughly for a one-credit course. Awesome!



As much as I want to tell you all it's going to be like that dancing scene in Saturday Night Fever, it won't be. The whole thing will consist of fratastic toolbags who wear the kind of shorts my father does, dancing to slow songs that make me want to puke my brains out. Look, I love Barry White as much as any other person, but I know that Mr. White and baby-making music is better suited to the sack instead of the dancefloor.

But anyway, my shagging debut is (unfortunately) next Thursday, April 17. I'll probably be there, as long as I'm able to wear a polyester suit and some gold chains. Obviously, I am not going to dress like so many of those douches who wear camouflage and boat shoes. I will not stoop that low to look like everyone else. If you're interested in attending and witnessing me shake my groovething on the dancefloor, then it's at Jillian's in the Vista. That's right, I gave you all the date, time, and location so there are no excuses for missing out.

I hope I do not see anyone there.

Breaking the Curse

So the last time I posted, I gloated on the fact about how my Washington Nationals were 3-0. That was on April 4, approximately one week from today. My how things have changed. Since the last time I've posted, the Nationals have proceeded to return to their losing ways, dropping SEVEN GAMES IN A ROW.


So to stop their losing ways, I have called in the forces of the witch doctor from Scooby Doo. This losing streak needs to stop badly. It's only April and I need to get through June with that hope that we can make the playoffs before I can turn my attention to the Redskins. Look, I know the Nats are supposed to be bad, but a SEVEN GAME LOSING STREAK in April? Please. Get that junk up out of here. Losing streaks of this magnitude are meant for August and September but not in freaking April. Get it together Nats. So here's to hoping that they cease their losing ways and finally win another game.

Thursday, April 3, 2008

Ohhh My

On today, Thursday April 3, 2008, the Washington Nationals are in first place. They have the best record in baseball. Someone wake me because I'm dreaming. I just wanted to post this before they actually lose this afternoon to the Phillies. Again, nothing to do with 99thingsbefore30, but still relevant.

Suck it everyone.

Friday, March 28, 2008

Nationals Fans are Retarded

First of all, this has nothing to do with 99thingsbefore30, but I'm posting it because it's important. Anyway, I'm a huge Washington Nationals fan and religiously follow them for better or worse. Opening Day is around the corner and yet another season of misery is upon us. However, there is hope, as the Nats are opening a brand-spankin' new stadium on Sunday. I regularly get e-mails about the Nationals, which mainly try to coax me into buying season tickets. I typically ignore them because for one thing, I don't live in DC for half of the season and I'm a poor college student.

But there was one e-mail that I got today that stuck out in my mind for some reason. The Nationals had their "fans" pick some of the music that the stadium will be playing this season, and one of the selections that the Nationals are playing makes me throw my hands up in confusion as if the people who cheer for my team have Down Syndrome or something of that sort. You see, as the "Victory Song" for the Nats, they chose "Beautiful Day" by U2, over "Celebration" by Kool and the Gang. When I saw this, I immediately thought, "what the fuck?"

No.

Picking U2 over Kool and the Gang is a crime in itself. Don't get me wrong, U2 is a great band and all, but its just so typical of DC people to choose that song. They probably have the idea of picking the safe song that Gen X parents and their kids can bob their heads to on the way out of Nationals Park. It just seems like such a "hippie song" because they mainly play on the hippie station at home and gives you the impression that "yeah, we beat you, but its cool because we're going to drive our hybrids and drink Starbucks." Is that what I want the Washington Nationals to be about this season? FUCK NO. We're going to be the baddest team in baseball with the likes of Dimitri Young, Lastings Milledge and Elijah "You Dead Dawg" Dukes. When we win, we need to shove in people's faces and kick dirt on them. Hence, "Celebration" by Kool and the Gang.

Every time I hear that song come on, I always feel like I'm a winner. I proceed to dance around if no one is watching and make myself to be such an embarrassment. I spend the whole song, in a sense, "celebrating", because that's what the song is all about. All that's what we need as Nats fans this season. Face it, we fucking suck and we need all of the good times that we're going to get from our team. Part of that is listening to "Celebration." We're going to have only 60 wins this season, so we should make each one a fucking celebration, bitches! Plus, how can you resist this:


Tuesday, March 25, 2008

#19: Teach a College Course

Throughout my years of education, I've always hated teachers. Not just hated, but despised, distrusted, and any other negative word that you could think of. I've just never been a fan of them. There have been many instances which have reinforced this notion in my head, from the times when a history teacher in high school wanted to fail my final exam because I used the term "w/" instead of "with" to even today where I hate my Philosophy professor for being a stupid bitch with her quizzes. Regardless of the sour experiences I've had with teachers, I never thought I would actually want to join the dark side and become one of them.

That was until last year when my school made an error in the paperwork and let me, of all people, teach University 101, a class designed to help freshmen adjust to college. Shocking, I know, considering my most famous moments at college have been falling out of a closet while drunk and telling a girl that I wanted to eat her breasts. Anyway, I was a Peer Leader for the semester, which is like a TA, but I don't exchange sexual favors in return for higher grades. And the thing is that I like teaching so much, that I wanted to do it again.

my one shining moment.

So after three months of waiting after I sent my application in, I finally was accepted to return to teach for the Fall. The reason I bring this up, is because I find fascinatingly hilarious how students team up with instructors to create their teaching teams. Not that I know anything about this subject but this situation would make me think of swinger party in a creepy, non-sexual way. So here I am, battered and bruised after my past instructors have left me for other, more "attractive" options. So I walk into this mixer last night and I seemed to just whore myself out to other instructors, almost as if I was saying, "COME AND FUCK ME, I'LL LOVE YOU LONG TIME." When I had to talk about myself, it seemed like I kept saying "I HAVE A 3.96 GPA COME AND PLAY WITH MY BALLS!" It was all about trying to put my best foot forward, and apparently my GPA and my balls are my two most important features. So, when I kept asking general questions to all of the instructors there, but every question about teaching style sounded like "IS YOUR PUSSY BIG ENOUGH TO FIT MY EXTRAORDINARILY LARGE MANMEAT? CAN YOU HANDLE THIS HEAT I'M PACKIN' BITCH?" It just seemed like I was whoring myself out to people and I was unashamed to do so.


I was getting with everyone and everyone was getting with me. Even the grad assistant who taught my peer leader class last semester was giving the "I want to fuck you*, but it'd be cool if you didn't have any other options and become my second instructor" look. After whoring myself out to some 20-odd instructors, I was able to find someone TO SUCK MY DICK ...er.... I mean, an instructor to be a part of my teaching team. We'll see what happens.

* - I fucking wish.

Friday, March 21, 2008

No, I haven't fallen off the face of the Earth. Yet.

It's been nearly two weeks since I've last posted here on 99thingsbefore30, so I figured I would just update my loyal following of three readers that I am still alive. I haven't had the time to post on here recently, because 1) I'm really busy, 2) I'm really busy, and 3) I don't want to write about school on here, which is about all I've done in the past two weeks. I mean, when you're studying statements of cash flows and power among states in politics, there's not a whole lot to write home about. Plus, I haven't done anything real significant in regards to the list, so there's no real point of writing unless I wanted to be like an emo loser who overanalyzes the hand gestures of a girl I was into. But since I am not, that possibility is incredibly foolish and unlikely.

Anyway, hopefully when stuff slows down here at school, maybe I'll post again. Maybe.

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

#46: Be Friends With My Ex

And out of the 99 things that are here on my list, I think that this is the hardest one that I'll have to do. This isn't on me, it's more on her. That other person in this whole relationship, friendship, etc. Yes, I did actually have a very serious girlfriend at one point in my life, and while those days are long gone, I would like to become friends with her again. And maybe this will explain to her why I really haven't gotten back to her in the last 8 months.

So here's the story behind this whole thing. I dated this girl for a year and half. She was incredible, probably one the nicest and most attractive women that I've ever seen in my life. She was a great girlfriend, the type that would go that extra mile for you and do anything to brighten your day. The thing about her was that she was different from any other girl I had been with or any of my friends. She hated sports. She refused to watch them and could not understand why I would get so happy watching men sweat all over each other. She was also a vegetarian, which was unique because I for one, loved meat and could not imagine ever living without it. She was just really different and she was like a puzzle that I could never figure out. There always seemed to be something new that she brought into the fold that would always spice things up.

But the thing about her was that she was way too different for friends and that just killed me. She was very shy and reserved around others and any interaction that my friends would have with her would always turn out awkward and weird. It really sucked for me because I wanted to show everyone how great of a person my girlfriend was, but I just couldn't. And then things began to pile up, starting with big events like Virginia Tech and down to little things about I didn't want to hang out with her after work or why I didn't want to go to see fireworks with her. These stupid arguments that no couple should ever have began tearing our relationship apart. The little things that I loved about her earlier in the relationship eventually caught up with me.
What I used to love about her was now what I just couldn't stand. I know there's nothing I could have done about it, but it was just those small little things that bugged me and made things worse. And it wasn't helping my internship at all as our little struggles were really affecting my performance at work.

Basically, I was tired of figuring out the puzzle that was known as her. I gave up. I told her that I wanted a break, just some time off because I needed to focus on work and not her. I was just sick of her for the time being not forever. I was tired. Tired of fighting with her. Almost every conversation turned into an argument. I just needed some time for me and just to focus on my life and what I wanted to do. I was 19 years old and I wanted to live my life before settling down with someone. She didn't take the news too well and left me with a letter tell me her last words. I haven't responded back so consider this as my reply.

We both said that we wanted to be friends, but it never worked out that way. A few jokes or animosity over a couple of drinks towards her on my part may have had something to do with it. Or maybe it was the drunk call back in September when I told her that I was still in love with her. I don't know or why that ever came about, but it should have never happened. Or maybe it about how each time we talk, its incredibly awkward to talk without mentioning our relationship. Either way, no matter what you can attribute it to, she and I don't talk anymore.

I want to fix that. I want to be friends with her again. Forget all the bad blood, it's time to start over and make amends. No, this isn't a trick to get her in my pants again, it's just hard to hold back two years' worth of memories. But my task is huge, how do I become friends with someone who I was physically attracted to for years. It may seem impossible, but I'm up to the challenge.

I know you're reading this, what are you waiting for?

#32 Win a Fantasy Football Championship

First of all, I understand it's not football season. It's March and football won't even begin for another five months. But here at 99thingsbefore30, it's always football season. Football in the summer, football in the winter, football all the time. Anyway, as the title of this post suggests, one of my goals before I reach the age of 30 is to win a fantasy football championship. This isn't just any fantasy football championship where I join a random league on Yahoo and take my team to the top. It's not that simple. This is for all the marbles. This is the only league that matters and the only championship that ever matters, the one where I wasted many weekend afternoon and nights painstakingly watching football games that I do not give a shit about. This is about winning the fantasy football league that I have with my friends at school.

Yeah, winning a fantasy football championship, easy task. No way, not so fast. It's not that easy. It's not easy when you have 9 other guys against you who are all staking their claim to being the best in the league. Like Newton said, every action has a reaction. In this league, that's always the case, as every game-winning touchdown depicts an image where you have one person celebrating with excessive joy, while his opponent is crushed by a figurative blow to his hopes of winning. It's like this every week, every Sunday and Monday when dreams go to die and hope rarely spring eternal. It's very interesting to watch how 10 grown men can react so feverishly to events that bear little significance on the rest of their lives, but unbearable to experience.

You see, my friends and I have been involved in this 10-team league for the past two years. And I have not won in either of these two years. Instead, my friend Danny has unfortunately taken the prize in BOTH FREAKING years. I congratulate him on a job well done but it is time for him to be dethroned from his championship reign. With that being said, I plan to win it all next year. If not, then the year after next. And if that doesn't happen yet again, then I will win by the time I turn 30 fo sho.