Hey.

Well, internet, it’s been fun but this place fucking sucks. I’m out.

Just another Monday morning at your shitty day job

So, I’ve got this blog. I think a couple of people read it. The problem with this blog is that as much as I wish I could write in it every day, I just can’t. Fuckin’ life, man. It’s gets in the way of all the cool shit that I want to do.  Jobs, dinners, drinking, bike riding, etc.  The whole job thing is the one that really gets me.  Sometimes I wish I could just work whenever I needed money.  And those few times that I did work, I made a shit ton of money.  But, prostitution and selling heroin aren’t really my thing.

My hours at work are completely different now.  5am to 2pm(ish) five days a week.  I think I like it.  I get to go do cool shit in the evenings now.  Like go see Shutter Island (what a mind fuck that flick was. Eh?).  One of the only aspects of these new hours that I don’t like is walking to my car, from my apartment, at 4:30 in the morning.  Now, my car is not far at all, unless I leave it on the street.  And I’m no vagina, okay.  But I don’t know if you’re ever out driving, walking, biking, rollerblading, etc. at 4 in the morning very often, but it’s a different world out there.  There’s guys crossing the street wherever the fuck they want, cars crashing into trees, people robbing 7-11, and even more weird 4am shit.

Denver really isn’t a high crime city compared to let’s say…Detroit.  But in every moderately big city, you’ve gotta watch your back when your out walking around at 4 in the morning.  I’ve learned that there are three pretty good ways to not get your shit jacked by some dude (or lady-thug) wandering the streets late at night (or early in the morning).  The first is one that my friend Ben taught me: Look as fucking broke as you possibly can.  Ben nails this image.  Dirty t-shirt, cut off shorts, shoes that are so fucking gross a bum wouldn’t even want to touch them even if there was a bag of crack buried inside, no socks, a fucked up face, and a backpack that he probably stole.  Ben looks as broke as you possibly can without being homeless.  The funny part is that Ben has a good job, a nice cell phone, and makes decent money.

The second: Look crazier than the crazy guy who wants to stab you with a rusty screwdriver and fuck your corpse behind the 7-11 that he just robbed.  You know that guy you always see talking to himself, listening to A.M. radio, scratching his balls and smelling his hands?  That guy is probably pretty fucking weird and could potentially think that you’re the guy that stole his girlfriends imaginary dog and beat her with a 2×4 and want to murder you.  So, the best way to avoid him, is to just act more crazy than he is.  Play air guitar when you’re walking home from the bars by yourself, wear your pants backwards, walk around with your dick out (wait, no don’t do that), practice kicking and punching the air.  I’m sure there is a bunch of other shit that you can come up with to make you look fucking insane.

The third (and the one that I use the most): act like you own “the shit.”  You’re walking over to YOUR girlfriends place, from YOUR apartment, to fulfill YOUR needs at 3 in the morning, and no one is going to fuck with that.  Keep your head up high and walk around like the bad ass you think you are.  Yeah, some Mexican might be sitting in the passenger seat of your car trying to rip out your stereo with a dull knife before he holds it up to your throat and threatens to kill you.  But, ya know what?  It’s fucking life.  And I got a new stereo and fixed my broken window.

I was gonna write about how fucking dumb St. Patrick’s day is.  Maybe I’ll get to it later this week.  But who knows, life might get in the way again.  Take care.

Boo-hoo, you’re a famous athlete

Have you guys been keeping up on the winter olympics lately?  Boy, have I!  Speed skating, skiing, ice dancing, bobsledding, CURLING!  What a fucking bore, man.  Two reasons why the summer olympics are much more entertaining than the winter olympics; 1. More skin.  2. More black people.  Black people rule the summer olympics, and I mean, let’s face it, black people are much more exciting than white people.  Have you ever watched a college basketball game?  So many rich white kids.  Yeah, sometimes they can be entertaining.  But have you ever watched a professional basketball game that doesn’t take place in Russia?  Really fucking entertaining!  And it’s because the couple of good basketball players from college, that are black, make it in the NBA because they’re good.  And the white college basketball players go on to take over their father’s business.  You get what I’m saying?  More black people=more entertainment.  Everyone knows that the only good white basketball player is Woody Harrelson.

The advertisement during the olympics is what really gets me though.  Every other commercial is either for a car company, or for McDonalds.  They show superstars like Lindsey Vaughn driving cars that are far too expensive for anyone watching to drive.  And then they show other athletes, like speed skating phenomenon Apolo Ohno, stuffing his face with McDonalds all white meat chicken nuggets, even though he probably hasn’t had McDonalds in 18 years because he doesn’t have a pound of fat on him.  I really don’t have the time to get into the bullshit of the advertising world.  But, long story short, it’s fucked.  And I’ll get into it some other time.  Also, coming soon here at HIA, the mystery of why Sea World trainers keep on getting attacked!  Ooohhhh!

I’ve gotta go to bed so I can fulfill the dairy needs of the wonderful people of Cherry Creek at 6 AM.  Alkaline Trio show tomorrow night, and Las Vegas on Friday.  Take care.

Because creating an Eharmony account is just too weeeeird…

Whoa!  You probably thought that I forgot about you, internet.  But I did.  I’m trying to think back on the past week or so and think of all of the awesome shit that I did while I was ignoring you guys.  But I really can’t come up with anything.  Uhmm, I finally set up my Nerf basketball hoop in my apartment, and have really been working on getting my skills back up to par.  But besides that, just the same old grocery store bullshit.  But anyway, I’ve come to a new conclusion.

Facebook is the new Myspace.  It is.  So, all of you dildos who protested Myspace for being the “creepy social networking site,” (since none of the other ones really were…) you have now helped turn Facebook into the REALLY creepy social networking site.  You can literally search any name, lurk through their profile, find out where they work, live, etc., and then rape them.  Or kill them.  Whatever gets you off.

A friend of mine recently told me a pretty ridiculous story regarding dudes who have vaginas.  She was visiting family in LA, and one night decided to take her cousin out to dinner.  She ended up tipping the waiter pretty high because she had some extra cash or he was nice or something.  A few days later she received a message on Facebook from that same waiter, who got her name off of her credit card and tried to keep in contact with her via Facebook.  That shit is pretty scary if you think about it.

I also think that Facebook, and other social networking websites, have really taken away the entire aspect of actually speaking to a human being.  I mean, if that waiter really thought that my friend was hot or cute or whatever, what’s the harm in actually talking to her?  So many people nowadays are fucking scared of encounters with people and find social networking sites as a way out of physically talking to people.

Example. You notice a new girl who just started working at your (insert shitty job here).  You’re curious.  You look up her name on the schedule.  You insert her name on the Facebook search engine.  OMG!  You found her.  You scope the profile.  You find out that her favorite band is Incubus (ha!), her favorite movie is The Matrix, she just moved here from Arkansas, she has six cats, and her mom is a paraplegic.  You’re interested.  You add her.  She accepts.  You start talking a little bit (online of course, because you’re a douche) and she’s kinda being a bit hesitant, because she knows that you’re a total pussy.  You finally set up a time to hang out.  You’re going to go see Avatar.  In 3-D, of course.  You go to put you hand on her thigh, and you realize that she has a penis.  See, now if you would have actually spent some time trying to get to know her in person, you would have immediately realized the gigantic bulge around her crotch.  But since you’re a total pussy, you hyped yourself up on a girl who has a dick.  Nice.  I mean, if you’re too afraid to talk to guys/girls in real life, why don’t you just create an Eharmony account.

The other annoying aspect of Facebook is the constant fucking status updates.  And I’m not saying that I don’t ever update my status.  Because I do.  I like to keep people up to date with my life.  And I do understand that a lot of you read this blog because you hear about it through Facebook.  But there are two types of Facebook status updates that really annoy the shit out of me (literally, shit falls out of me when I read them).  The first being when someone says something along the lines of waiting for something.  Like “waiting in line at the bank sucks.” Or “waiting for my food.” Or, “waiting for class to start.”  I mean, no one really gives a fuck for 1.  I mean,  I would probably be a little bit more interested if it said something like, “waiting to suck Will Smith’s dick.”  Or, “waiting for this bum to get out of my apartment.”  Because obviously, there’s a story behind it.  The second one are the ones that are obviously looking for some sympathy.  Like, “everything hurts.” Or, “I can’t go on without him.” Or, “he got it in my eye.”  It’s like, don’t you have friends to turn to for help?  Or have you really shut yourself out from society because updating your Facebook is more important?

So, get out there people.  Talk to people, meet people.  There are tons of amazing people out there that you’re not going to be able to meet online. Take chances.  The internet isn’t going to be around forever.  And lastly, don’t freak out over transvestites, they’re people too.  Take care.

Gas station nostalgia.

I’m at my parents house.  I came up here this morning because I started feeling as sick as a steezy snowboarder who just nailed a 360 off a dope kicker at Breck yesterday.  So, I came up here so my mommy could take care of me.  Just kidding, I’m no pussy, I do love my mom though. I came up here to do my laundry and watch the 6th Annual Puppy Bowl with me dad.  Did you guys see that game!?  Intense!  Those evil hamsters in the blimp, and boy, that water-cam footage was some of the most creative film footage I have seen in years!  But that bullshit call on the French Bulldog for napping during the game was weak.  He was worn out.  Give him a break, ref!!

Instead of drinking beers and taking shots of whiskey during the game, I was sitting on the sideline sipping on cough syrup and taking shots of nasal spray up my nose.  But, I think my body is actually pissed off at me and revolting by making me sick because I’ve been such a hermit the past few weeks.  My body needs to get wasted…at least 3 times a week.  But lately it’s been work, sleep, and that’s about it.  So, I started feeling like shit on Friday night at work and I thought to myself; “alright, I could just go home and wake up in the morning feeling like shit, or I could go up to Boulder, hang out with a few friends, and still wake up in the morning feeling like shit.”

So, I took option two and killed some beers with a few friends up in Boulder on Friday.  When I got off of work at around 10, I figured it would be a good idea to stop at a gas station and grab some water or something.  I always try to stop at the shadiest looking gas stations when I need a pit stop for gas, or a Milky Way Bar, or am about to shit my pants.  So, I cruise by real slow and take a gander at the activity happening outside, or take a look at the types of cars in the parking lot.  My favorite one is this Diamond Shamrock on like 29th St. and Colorado Blvd.  One time when I was in there this guy literally threw the bathroom key back at the cashier.  It had one of those windshield squeegee things attached to it too.  Could of done some serious damage.  Another time, this guy was trying to get the cashier to sell him a pack of cigarettes for 2 dollars and 73 cents.  Eventually, he just bought 3 Black and Mild’s and a four pack of Winterfresh.  And another time!  This guy came up to me as I was filling up gas and this guy asked me for money for him and his pregnant girlfriend whose car had broken down right down the street.  I gave him 2 bucks and he literally walked right into the gas station and bought a tall boy of  Red Dog.  I didn’t even know they made that shit!  Let alone at a gas station in Denver and in 3/2.  I just hope that he split it with his pregnant girlfriend while they waited for the bus.

Fuck!  I’m getting really sidetracked.  What I was trying to get to was the abundance of energy “shit” that is on the market now.  I mean, have you been inside a gas station lately?  Every company has a regular energy drink, along with 37 flavors, shots of energy, candy filled with energy, gum with energy, dildos with energy, cigarettes with energy, energy drinks as big as your thighs, and snickers bars with energy.  And they’re all better than the one right next to it.  WHAT THE FUCK?!?!  What happen to the simple cup of coffee.  Gas station coffee is awesome.  And it’s usually like 99 cents a cup. I’m gonna let you guys in  on a little secret.  You wanna know what’s in these energy drinks that make them give you SO much energy?  It’s this new ingredient called…you ready for it? CAFFEINE!  Heard of it before?  Remember when you were 11 and you bugged your mom at the gas station to buy you a Jolt Soda because you knew that you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep for like 9 days and you could play video games for like 136 hours straight?  Yeah, Jolt Soda has a shit ton of caffeine in it.  And all of these energy drinks have a SHIT TON OF CAFFEINE in them.  Along with a bunch of other shit that is terrible for you.

Man, but going to gas stations used to be the coolest.  Remember asking your mom or dad if you could ride your bike down to the 7-11 with all of your friends?  Grazing the isles for the wackiest shit that you could find.  Pop Rocks!  I don’t know why it was so awesome to go to gas stations.  Maybe it was because the owners never spoke any English, so they couldn’t really yell at you when you leaned your handlebars up on the window, and if they did it just sounded really funny, and made you laugh.  Or you’d have that one friend who would tell you that he was going to try and buy a pack of cigarettes.  You’d be waiting outside, about ready to piss your pants cause you were so nervous.  And then he would walk out with a pack of cigarette gum.  Shit was great.  Being young ruled.

So, when you’re taking your seventh (green!) piss of the morning, remember that you just killed that 25 oz Monster Energy drink, along with a pound of sugar.  So, quit being such a fucking baby and drink a cup of coffee.  Uhhhh, that is all.  Go listen to a band called Red City Radio.  Now that is all.  Take care.

Know Your History

Whoah!  Internet!  How the hell are ya?  It’s been far too long since we last chatted.  What’s new?  Heidi Montag get any more surgeries lately?  Meh, probably.  Who gives a fuck?

So, I know I talked about music last time, but I’m gonna bitch about it a bit more.  And I’ve gotten a bit of feedback from some of my readers saying that I’m, uhmmm, drum roll please…”too angry.”  So, let’s try to make this a blog about bitching, but in a positive sense.

Anyway, me and my friend Sean (don’t worry, you’ll hear about him in the near future) went and checked out a little band called Strike Anywhere at The Marquis tonight.  And unfortunately, they weren’t headlining the show, so we had to listen to a bunch of shitty bands before Strike Anywhere actually played.  Title Fight opened the show.  I like them.  Some good music out of Pennsylvania is popping up all of a sudden, and they are one of those bands creating that music.  And then some band (I don’t even remember what the fuck their name was) played.  They were terrible.  Kind of A New Found glory rip off band, but really shitty.

So, finally.  Strike Anywhere played.  And were amazing.

But I guess I didn’t get the memo before the show that explained to me that Strike Anywhere wasn’t headlining the show, but this band called Four Year Strong was.  And now, I’ve never heard of these guys before.  I think my little sister likes them.  Maybe.  She likes a lot of shitty bands.  And before I really get into it, let me just let you guys know that they are pretty bad.  From what I gathered, they really like to sing, a lot, and chant, a lot, and throw their hands up in the air, a lot, and wear beards, a lot.  So yeah, they’re not so good.

But their fans, almost as bad as Juggalos.  My friend Blair described the kids at the show as “a Disney Land for 15-year-old ‘hardcore’ kids.”  Which summed it up pretty well.  I mean, there were a lot of young kids there.  But, I feel like most of the kids at the show were at least 18.  They all had chest tattoos.  Oh!  And my favorite type of tattoo, the shitty line-work sleeve.  Ya know the one.  The tattoo where they don’t know what they want, and don’t have a lot of money, but want EVERYONE to see it, so they just get a bunch of shitty line-work down their arm.  Pretty cool, I know.  And they all had their ears stretched out to at least a quarter of an inch, except for the ones who only have their’s at a 2 because their mom won’t let them go any bigger.  I would say that it might be because they have a job.  But let’s get real for a second, 18-year-old suburban kids don’t have jobs.  But all have Macbook Pros.

So, yes.  You get the idea of what these kids look like.  I hope.  I probably didn’t paint that good of a picture, but it’s 2 in the morning.  So, give me a break.  Real quick though, just to clear up what a Four Year Strong fan looks like; tight jeans, baggy flannel, bandana, bad tattoos, stretched ear lobes, “tough guy” attitude (which is just kinda funny to say because they like Four Year Strong), and don’t forget their ugly 15-year-old girlfriends who wear too much make-up.  Anyway, so you have these kids, all together in a venue, who are all here to see one band (Four Year Strong).  And they’re all going to be assholes to everyone else at the show that they’re not friends with.  I guess kids just enjoy being dicks to one another nowadays or something  So, if you’re there to see one of the opening bands (Strike Anywhere), and you want to have fun, and you want to release all of your rage that you’re been building up from your dickbag boss at your job, these 16, 17, 18-year-old kids are going to be complete assholes to you because they’re the total “bad ass” at their high school.  And I understand that I’m 20 years old, and I’m complaining about a bunch of disrespectful kids at a show.

But I just want to get one thing across.  What the fuck happened? What happened to kids picking each other up when they fell down?  What happened to kids that used to care about each other?  What happened to kids singing a long to songs with their arms wrapped around each other?  What happened to the passion behind the music?  The meaning behind the songs.  What the fuck happened to the community that was built around a scene?

This band called H2O nailed it with this song.

I just miss the way things used to be.  And it’s never going be like that again.  Which is fine, but I don’t think that’s a reason to get angry at the kid next to you who is trying to have a fun time.  Don’t worry, I’m not going to punch your girlfriend in the face.  Oh, quick side note, funniest thing I’ve ever heard at a show before: “Can you stop moving around?  You keep messing up my eyelashes.”  Some girl said this to a kid during Strike Anywhere.  But, anyway, we all go to shows for the same reason.  To have fun.  So, quit judging each other and start respecting each other.  Take care.

Kids who go to REO Speedwagon concerts without their dad.

Sorry the blogs in January have been so sparse.  But I’m a busy man.  Like, I might not be able to rap with you guys for a week after this one. Why?  Well I’m finally moving out of my sisters apartment and getting my own place.  Yep, that’s right.  Up in the mountains.  Me and my dog are finally retiring.  12 acres.  Away from civilization.  I’m going to spend the rest of my life listening to The Almond Brothers and smoking cigarettes.  I would try to quit, but my dog chain smokes like a mother fucker.  I’m kidding.  I’m just moving back over into Capitol Hill.  Ya know. The “hip” part of Denver.  A community with more bums than mailboxes, more liquor stores than gas stations, and more douche bags on long boards than McDonald’s.  Well, that’s not entirely true.  A lot of kids ride those, I think they’re called “fixed gear” bikes, or what the kids that go to Pablo’s call them, “fixies.”  Whatever way you want to say it, they’re still really douche-y.

I am getting my own apartment.  When I think about it, I feel like I’ll get really bored and lonely living by myself.  But I have quite a bit of hobbies that keep me pretty busy when I’m not at work.  So, maybe a few hours a week.  All I really do when I’m bored is listen to music.  I read sometimes.  And sometimes I watch movies on Lifetime.  But, when I think about how much music has influenced me to become the person that I am today I shit my pants.  Not literally though.  Get your head out of the gutter.

But really.  I know that everyone, at some point in their life, has been influenced by the music they listen to.  Weather it be bands like H2O, or Pearl Jam, or fucking Nelly.  Maybe after listening to a Cornell Haynes Jr. (Nelly) song, you just had a huge desire to buy some Air Force Ones and roofie bunch of 18-year-old girls at the club.  Hey, someone got lucky that night.  Even those douche bag long board kids have probably been influenced by music.  Even if they only listen to the same 10 different artists.  You know the type.  They’re favorite group is probably Pink Floyd, or Jimy Hendrix, or fucking Led Zeppelin or some other shitty group that hasn’t put out a record in over 20 years.  I fucking hate those kinds of kids.

You try to talk to them about music (let’s say a kid my age, in their 20′s) and all they say is “dooooode, all music today is trrrrrash.”  And you want to fucking smack em’.  It’s like I understand that all of those music groups of the 60′s and 70′s are all great, but they’ve been broken up for over 20 years man.  Yeah, big fucking whoop, Led Zeppelin played a show in like 2o07.  In fucking London.  And even if they do ever tour the states, tickets will probably be 300 dollars.  And you’re probably too broke because you spend all of your money on weed and fucking incense or some shit.  So, once you tell them how dumb they are, they’ll tell you that they do like music of this century but it will be the worst fucking bullshit rock bands out there today.  They probably like 311, Tool, System of a Down, and like fucking Cold.  Remember that terrible song by Cold, Stupid Girl.  That is a terrible song.

And I don’t mean to make fun of other types of music or anything.  I mean, I love The Who, and Bruce Springsteen, and Lil’ Wayne, but I am constantly stoked on music.  And I really don’t think I could limit my music encyclopedia to shit written while my parents were still in high school.  Whether it be a new Lawrence Arms EP, or going to see a show at The Marquis, I am constantly stoked on current music.  I respect the roots where the recent music that I listen to that comes from.  But I never get in my car, and feel like throwing on a fucking Journey record (just kidding, I’ll talk about Journey and the disgrace of music that they have created another time) but like a fucking Eric Clapton record that came out in 1971.  I mean, my fucking dad listens to Eric Clapton.  Eric Clapton is a great musician and all, and my dad is really rad, but they’re both old.  It would be like making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich every day with stale bread.  Like there is definitely some good peanut butter and jelly in there.  But it’s made with old bread, and you have had the same sandwich for 15 years.

I want to listen to music that has meaningful lyrics that have to do with current issues and thoughts that have been composed in the last 10 years.  Shit that makes me think.  Music that inspires me.  If I wanted to listen to music about old people and old bullshit I would just go hang out at a church with my grandmother.  Take Care.

Annoying Expressions That Make You Look Like a “One-Line-Doucher.”

I really wasn’t planning on writing tonight.  Ya, know cause it’s MLK day and all.  I couldn’t believe that I had to go into work today.  Working for Whole Foods is pretty much like working for the government.  I was thinking about changing my blog name to “Holiday in a Grocery Store.”  What do you think?  I mean, I’m not in Antarctica anymore, and I can feel a bunch of blogs in the future consisting of me just bitching about my job.

I really don’t hate my job that much though.  When I actually sit down and think about my job, I realize that it’s fucking awesome!  I’m surrounded by amazing people, and amazing food for eight hours a day.  And when I say “amazing people,” it’s really an understatement, because they are truly the best co-workers you could think of.  So, if I work with you, and you read my blog, know that I love you.  Except for those two people who I really fucking hate.  I don’t really hate a lot of people or a lot of things.  So, if I hate you, it’s probably because you posses these two traits; You’re dumb and annoying.  I know a lot of really fucking dumb people, but I still like ‘em.  And I know a lot of really fucking annoying people, but I don’t hate them.  I probably don’t really like them, but I can put up with their shit.  But if you’re both dumb and annoying, I can tell you that I will probably hate you.  It’s as simple as that.

The only other thing that I really don’t like about my job are these people who I like to call the “one-line-douchers.”  Some of these people are customers and some of them are co-workers.  For example.  I spill some milk out on the sales floor.  No big deal, shit happens.  And as I’m cleaning it up, someone walks by and feels the need to say something like, “don’t cry over spilled milk.”  Or, “Ohhh, that sucks.”  Or a co-worker might say something a bit more vulgar like, “way to go slick.”  Or, “smooth move ex-lax.”  This is what usually goes through my mind after a “one-line-doucher” throws out their comment; 1. Fuck you. 2. “Don’t cry over spilled milk?” Really?  Come on.  3. Is walking by quietly really that difficult?

I really don’t mind if you can come up with something a bit more on the creative side to criticize me.  Like “way to go dumb fuck.”  Or “nice fuck-up dip-shit.”  I don’t know what it is about the word “dip-shit.”  But no matter how many times I hear it, I still think it’s a great word.

I  don’t really understand why people who are at work feel the need to always butt in on shit that is completely unrelated to their actual duties at work.  And that is where sexual harassment at work usually comes into play.  But is it really that difficult to just shut the fuck up?  Or even better, maybe offer to help clean it up?  I know that’s a stretch, but come on, someone really said “smooth move ex-lax” to me one time.  I fucking kid you not.  And the guy who said it to me is definitely in his 40′s, and has also asked me if I “play Warcraft” before.  So, I guess it shouldn’t have come as that much of a surprise, but he is really fucking dumb.  He’s a good guy though.

Anyway, sorry I haven’t written in a grip.  And sorry this post kind of sucks.  Work has sucked the life out of me lately.   Thank, the guy that writes my schedule, that I’ve got some days off this week.  I would say “thank God,” but he isn’t in charge of deciding what days I’m going to have off each week.  I’ll always think about shit to write about throughout the day, and either forget what it was, or just end up coming home and realizing that I have better shit to do than update a blog.  Like watch Sports Center, or listen to music while Everybody Loves Raymond is on mute in the background because I was watching Friends before I started listening to music, or add an abundance of movies to my Netflix Que.  I’ll shout at you guys later.  Take care.

“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”

I’m writing this blog after seeing that there is a group on facebook called “The Hangover Quotes.”  Now I’m not going to get into it with you guys about fucking facebook groups and how there HAS to be a group for everything out there.  Seriously, go type in “Dick” into your facebook browser to look for groups.  Yep, there’s a group out there called “Dick,” and also one called “Dicks, Dicks, Dicks.”  I didn’t check that one out.  I’m guessing that it’s a group for people who love threesomes or foursomes or some kinky shit like that.

But, I am writing this blog to try and get people to realize that over quoting movies really needs to fucking stop.  I set up a recorder at the Chi Psi fraternity at CU and found out that they quoted lines from The Hangover 867 times in one day!  Alright, so maybe they didn’t.  I mean those bro’s are too busy locking pledges in closets and forcing them to drink McCormicks and Keystone Light until they die.  But I’m pretty sure if you were to set up a recorder and clock in how many times they quote lines from Hollywood Blockbusters it would be in the thousands.

It’s the same fucking story with every big Blockbuster comedy film that comes out every year.  Or even those low-budget movies that somehow gain a lot of attention for their indie-ness or some bullshit.  Remember that little flick called Napoleon Dynamite?  That movie was fucking hilarious when it came out.  But remember when kids starting wearing “Vote For Pedro” t-shirts and started acting like Kip?  Yeah, suddenly that movie lost all its charm and you just wanted to punch the next kid that turned to you and said “Ugh, get out of my way.  Gosh!”  I think the worst over-quoted movie of the 2000′s was definitely 2006′s Borat though.  Once again, pretty funny movie the first couple of times that you saw it.  But once again, it seemed like every douche bag that passed you was saying “high-five!”  Or “Very nice!” Then Sacha Baron Cohen came out with Bruno and kids must of decided that their “brothers” would probably call them a fag for quoting that film or some shit.

Anyway. It’s like, come on man.  Just leave the movie alone and shut the fuck up.  We all saw the movie.  And we all know that YOU saw the movie.  So, why the fuck do you have to ruin it for everyone that wants to remember the film for the actual film, not the annoying d-bag who changed his Myspace name to “McLovin,” or fucking “Frank The Tank.”

I mean, I love movies, and pop-culture, and the occasional Pee Wee Herman quote.  But the fact that there is over 300,000 people who all joined together to create a fucking group about quoting an alright movie is a bit ridiculous.  Yeah, The Hangover was just alright.  I know, it’s probably not you.  But you know the type of kids I’m talking about.  Probably the ones with giant fucking Scarface posters in their rooms or some shit.  And geeeez, talk about another fucking annoying cult following.  God, Scarface is such a fucking god awful movie.  I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that those fucking dick wadds who think Scarface is the greatest movie ever made probably haven’t even seen Casino, and most likely haven’t heard of a little film called Goodfellas.

Take care.

A realistic look on 2010

Well, it’s the beginning of a new year.  You’re starting to come up with your bullshit new year resolutions, that are most likely the exact same ones that you wanted to accomplish in 2009.  Like losing 15 pounds, or finally talking to that girl who sits next to you in Astronomy class, or quit dealing crack, or telling your boss to “fuck off.”  But you all probably ended up getting sucked into watching The biggest Loser instead.  It’s alright, so did I.  All I want to accomplish in 2010 is cook some more, and read at least 2 books a month.  I mean, what’s sexier than a dude reading?  A dude reading a vegan cook book…amirite?

I admire everyone’s optimism at the beginning of every new year.  I’m constantly hearing things like “Bring on 2010, this year’s all mine, baby!”  Or, “Fuck off 2009, 2010 is totally gonna suck MY dick!”  Or, “Bend over 2009, 2010 has arrived!”  Or the very simple AND commonly used phrase, “2010!  Whoop whoop!  Finally gonna find my real dad!”  Or, “2010 is gonna be the best year ever!”  But I mean, it probably really won’t.  I don’t want to come off as a pessimistic dick, but let’s get real for a second.  2009 probably wasn’t THAT bad.  Unless you’re dad died, and your mom started shooting up because of your dads passing, and your little sister is pregnant again, and you lost your job, and your wife left you for that asshole midget that works at the dry cleaners, you’re year wasn’t that bad.  Your boyfriend broke up with you, you broke your arm while snowboarding in Vail, you didn’t pass Western Civilization 101 again, your dog somehow opened up your high school year book and took a shit right on the page the your bff wrote on.  You dropped your iPhone in the toilet.  Boo-fucking-hoo.

I’m pretty stoked on how 2009 panned out for me.  I did some rad shit.  Met some rad people.  Unless you’re going to Antarctica, or getting married, or staring in an M. Night Shyamalan movie, your year will probably be pretty monotonous.  Work, school, party, sex, etc.  Which is totally cool with me.  I’ll make the best of it.  I’ll probably meet some more cool people this year, drink some beer with old friends, probably start-up school again, turn 21 get a new apartment, take a couple of neat trips around the states to visit some family.  Sounds pretty sweet to me.

From January 1st, to, let’s say, about January 17th, everyone is trying to figure out ways to make the new year the most epic fucking year to date.  And right around the 18th, they start to realize that it’s probably not going to happen because this little thing called “reality” sets in.  I know!  Fuck!  Reality!  Fucccck!!  Nooooooooo!!!  I want you to make it in Hollywood just as much as you and your grandpa do!  But, sorry to be the first to say it, you probably won’t.  And it’s probably because you’re broke.  Shit, everyone’s pretty broke right now.  Welcome to reality.  I wanted to be an astronaut when I was 8, but then I realized that it’s really fucking hard to do.  You have to be smart to be an astronaut.  Or a Canadian clown.  I can tell you that his year was probably pretty epic.  But it’s because he’s got some money stashed in those big shoes.

We all go through times that are tougher than others, and they’re really not as bad as you think.  Hey, you’re reading this, you’ve got a computer, and internet, and a house! Now there’s a great reason for you to shut your fucking mouth and stop bitching about how much your life sucks.  I’m not saying to go into the year with a piss poor attitude, like you probably think I’m saying.  Because I’m sure as shit not going into 2010 thinking like that.  What I am saying is, take a step back, think about what you have, don’t take the small things for granted.  Make the small things the big part of the year that makes it epic.  Live your life one day at a time, and who knows, maybe that girl will come talk to you, or maybe your boss will give you that promotion for putting in all of those bullshit weekend hours, or maybe people will shut the fuck up about Avatar, or maybe the Bronco’s will make the playoffs, or maybe someone will actually give you positive feedback from your bands shitty demo tape, and maybe NBC will pull The Biggest Loser off the air.  Take care.