Sunday, July 25, 2010
4 Things you should never post pictures of on the Internet
I realize that your life is just oh-so interesting, and I'm sure everyone on the planet appreciates your altruistic decision to share the intricacies of your existence. However, there are (at least) 4 things that you should never post pictures or videos of, online or elsewhere. I am telling you this for your own good. Mostly for my good, but it will help people hate you less, so it's for your good too.
1. Your newborn baby
Let's be honest here, newborn babies look like writhing, flaccid, penises. I would rather fellate a shit-covered cactus than have to look at another baby picture. They can't even hold their own heads up, let alone do anything interesting. If I want to see the ugly side of the circle of life I can just watch videos of lions tearing apart sickly wildebeests. Get back to me when the kid is old enough to fail badly at doing mundane things. Put that on video and I may tune in. (but only to laugh, not to care).
2. Your new Tattoo
I understand that you are super excited about your super fresh tattoo of...whatever the hell it is..., but since you are stuck with it until at least a few years AFTER you die (and 60 years after it stops being cool), you can at least do us all a favor and wait like ONE day until its not all puffy, red, scabby and covered with greasy lotion. If I can't tell if you have a dragon tattoo or a raging case of arm-herpes, you're doing it wrong. So relax, time is on your side with this one.
3. Your wedding
No matter how cool, unique, and original you think your wedding/reception/honeymoon is, it will still be 95% similar to every single other wedding on the face of the planet.
Did your wedding feature,
Monkey butlers?
Strippers? (female)
Feats of strength? (carrying you across the threshold doesn't count)
Impromptu turf war with another nearby wedding party?
Ted Nugent?
Motorized...anything?
Didn't think so. MOVE ALONG.
I wouldn't put your wedding pictures in the bottom of a bird cage, just because of the off-chance the bird might flap around and flip one over and I would have to see it for an entire second.
4. Your lame vacation
The only acceptable pictures that should be posted online of vacations include:
1. Feats of strength
2. Things that elevate your status above the wretched masses
3. Proof of wicked, depraved, or otherwise sordidly impressive acts that would otherwise be dismissed by your friends as fanciful stories.
Notice this list did NOT include an album of 1365 pictures of you standing on a beach, ordering from a restaurant, looking out an airplane window, sitting in your hotel room, on a subway, your feet (seriously?), statues, etc. If you have so many pictures of the same lame scene that you can make a working flip book, then you are wasting my time, as usual.
If a nearby parents don't gasp and cover their children's eyes when your vacation pictures pop up, don't bother.
If I want to look at pictures of somebody just standing around, I can find somebody way more attractive than you. Trust me.
- Double E
Friday, May 14, 2010
The Swipe - A guide for the modern man
Look familiar?
When faced with the inevitable task of the swipe, most zombie-brained proletariat just revert to the status quo. People just robotically grab a roll of a few layers of toilet paper like pictured above, without putting any thought into the veritable cornucopia of wiping techniques available to the savvy swiper. Below are some of the options available to you, if you are ready:
THE CONTINENTAL
AKA: leon(the professional)
This is a high-end swipe for the most discerning of derrieres. Not to be wasted upon the shit-smeared ass of a drunken bum, or the haphazard wiping of a rushed 14 year old hurrying to get back to his video games. This carefully constructed cleanser of cracks is the Rolex of the wiping world. While its compact format makes it not the optimum choice for removing the aftermath of a gut-busting fast-food meal, its unparalleled performance and comfort makes it no wonder why it is the go-to TP configuration of the business class.
THE MUM-RA
AKA: The Mummy, The Unholy Roller, The 360,
This particular technique is a well-known for its exceptional coverage and protection. A quick and easy set-up and ambidextrous deployment are all the more reason to give this one a try. Well-suited for the messier situations. Where collateral spray and excessive ass-sweat would cause other techniques to fail, the MUM-RA forges onward, easily protecting your hand from fecal matter and stray dingleberries.
THE LAYMAN
AKA: The Blue-Collar Bushwacker, The Joe schmo
A staple swipe for many decades, the 'Layman' has found its home amongst the less-sophisticated masses. What it lacks in style and sophistication it makes up for in ease of use. From on the roll to on the hole, the Layman has one of the fastest deployment times of any swipe out there. Whether it's half time, tee time, or lunch time, this is the swipe to know for the man on the go.
THE SPARTAN
AKA: The Cheryl Crow, The Coup De Grace
A wise man once said, "If you don't use enough TP you will get shit all over your hands."
I said that, just now. While never purposefully employed by a sane individual with any concern for crotch cleanliness, this swipe of last resort is sometimes unwillingly foisted upon us in moments of desperation. Don't allow a misguided sense of environmentalism to persuade you to permit this paucity of paper, as it can result in some undesirable klingons, and soiled undergarments. Use with caution. Consider using in conjunction with "The Plan B"
The Dim Mak
AKA: The Daniel San, The Tong Po, Poophole Punchout, The Master Blaster
When force is required, there is only one place to turn: the Dim Mak. bricks don't hit back, unless you are shitting them, and that is where this power-swipe comes into play. Designed for stubborn clingers, there are few turds this punch can't pulverize. Wax on, wipe off with this serious swipe, and then follow up with a mum-ra for extra clean and peace of mind.
THE OOPSIE DAISY
AKA: The Toxic Avenger, The Violater, The Hellraiser
Never purposefully employed, this TP faux pas sneaks up on you when you least expect it. A common side effect of weaker swipes like the "Spartan" or a poorly deployed 'Continental', this rip can also result from cheap TP or an extra forceful wipe. The unexpected "Oopsie Daisy" can lead to an unpleasant poophole probing and one downright stinky finger. Immediately reboot with a quick "layman" and a thorough hand washing.
THE TICKLE ME ELMO
AKA: The Dipstick, The Dr Doom, The Tootsie Roll, Goose,
This deep diving technique is not for the faint of heart or tight of sphincter. This powerful probe will shock your mind and cleanse your colon. Use with caution and discretion. There are many things that can go wrong with this experimental swipe, like stray TP being left behind. There is also the chance you will hate it very much, or worse, like it. Can you live with that? You were warned.
THE ROOMATE REVENGE
AKA: Unknown
Never designed for its effective cleansing, this unmentionable technique has but one sordid purpose: Filling your enemy's mouth with feces. When a time for subtlety has long passed, and unrepentant revenge is the only dish on the menu, serve it cold with this calculated crime. Assail his mind and body with this unholy assault, but don't forget to finish up with a real wipe.
THE INFIDEL
AKA: Satan's Swipe, The Grave Digger, The Cro Magnon
A vestige of a time long past when poop was more likely to be flung at an antagonist than flushed down a pipe, the 'Infidel" even still refuses to die. A horrible secret of third-world shitholes (no pun intended) and drug addled bums, this demonic dung-remover is a positively horrifying option. When desperate times call for touching your poopy asshole with a bare hand, you may want to consider just what the hell you are doing with your life. Consider 'The Plan B" before passing the point of no return.
THE PLAN B
AKA: The Rough Rider, Last Call, Shopping day
When the going gets rough, so does your toilet paper. Although a far cry from the extremes of the "Infidel" this is not a technique for the sensitive of sphincter. A miscalculation in when to do your shopping can result in a panicked look around the bathroom for anything remotely resembling TP. That's when you will find the true value of the written word. After the first painful swipe you may be tempted to abort; this will only leave you with a poopy butt which will get itchy and turn red like a baboon's. It's not worth it, just face the pain and remember to do your shopping. Also, you may want to let the thick pages soak for a while or everybody will wonder why the toilet is overflowing with paper bags and Oprah's book club.
Now you are fully equipped to survive and thrive with aplomb in the harsh environment of the stuffy bathroom. While mere mortals will be relegated to mediocrity and skidmarks, you will be on a higher level. Remember, only warriors get to choose to have improperly wiped butts; everyone else has it forced upon them.
-Double E
THE CONTINENTAL
AKA: leon(the professional)
This is a high-end swipe for the most discerning of derrieres. Not to be wasted upon the shit-smeared ass of a drunken bum, or the haphazard wiping of a rushed 14 year old hurrying to get back to his video games. This carefully constructed cleanser of cracks is the Rolex of the wiping world. While its compact format makes it not the optimum choice for removing the aftermath of a gut-busting fast-food meal, its unparalleled performance and comfort makes it no wonder why it is the go-to TP configuration of the business class.
THE MUM-RA
AKA: The Mummy, The Unholy Roller, The 360,
This particular technique is a well-known for its exceptional coverage and protection. A quick and easy set-up and ambidextrous deployment are all the more reason to give this one a try. Well-suited for the messier situations. Where collateral spray and excessive ass-sweat would cause other techniques to fail, the MUM-RA forges onward, easily protecting your hand from fecal matter and stray dingleberries.
THE LAYMAN
AKA: The Blue-Collar Bushwacker, The Joe schmo
A staple swipe for many decades, the 'Layman' has found its home amongst the less-sophisticated masses. What it lacks in style and sophistication it makes up for in ease of use. From on the roll to on the hole, the Layman has one of the fastest deployment times of any swipe out there. Whether it's half time, tee time, or lunch time, this is the swipe to know for the man on the go.
THE SPARTAN
AKA: The Cheryl Crow, The Coup De Grace
A wise man once said, "If you don't use enough TP you will get shit all over your hands."
I said that, just now. While never purposefully employed by a sane individual with any concern for crotch cleanliness, this swipe of last resort is sometimes unwillingly foisted upon us in moments of desperation. Don't allow a misguided sense of environmentalism to persuade you to permit this paucity of paper, as it can result in some undesirable klingons, and soiled undergarments. Use with caution. Consider using in conjunction with "The Plan B"
The Dim Mak
AKA: The Daniel San, The Tong Po, Poophole Punchout, The Master Blaster
When force is required, there is only one place to turn: the Dim Mak. bricks don't hit back, unless you are shitting them, and that is where this power-swipe comes into play. Designed for stubborn clingers, there are few turds this punch can't pulverize. Wax on, wipe off with this serious swipe, and then follow up with a mum-ra for extra clean and peace of mind.
THE OOPSIE DAISY
AKA: The Toxic Avenger, The Violater, The Hellraiser
Never purposefully employed, this TP faux pas sneaks up on you when you least expect it. A common side effect of weaker swipes like the "Spartan" or a poorly deployed 'Continental', this rip can also result from cheap TP or an extra forceful wipe. The unexpected "Oopsie Daisy" can lead to an unpleasant poophole probing and one downright stinky finger. Immediately reboot with a quick "layman" and a thorough hand washing.
THE TICKLE ME ELMO
AKA: The Dipstick, The Dr Doom, The Tootsie Roll, Goose,
This deep diving technique is not for the faint of heart or tight of sphincter. This powerful probe will shock your mind and cleanse your colon. Use with caution and discretion. There are many things that can go wrong with this experimental swipe, like stray TP being left behind. There is also the chance you will hate it very much, or worse, like it. Can you live with that? You were warned.
THE ROOMATE REVENGE
AKA: Unknown
Never designed for its effective cleansing, this unmentionable technique has but one sordid purpose: Filling your enemy's mouth with feces. When a time for subtlety has long passed, and unrepentant revenge is the only dish on the menu, serve it cold with this calculated crime. Assail his mind and body with this unholy assault, but don't forget to finish up with a real wipe.
THE INFIDEL
AKA: Satan's Swipe, The Grave Digger, The Cro Magnon
A vestige of a time long past when poop was more likely to be flung at an antagonist than flushed down a pipe, the 'Infidel" even still refuses to die. A horrible secret of third-world shitholes (no pun intended) and drug addled bums, this demonic dung-remover is a positively horrifying option. When desperate times call for touching your poopy asshole with a bare hand, you may want to consider just what the hell you are doing with your life. Consider 'The Plan B" before passing the point of no return.
THE PLAN B
AKA: The Rough Rider, Last Call, Shopping day
When the going gets rough, so does your toilet paper. Although a far cry from the extremes of the "Infidel" this is not a technique for the sensitive of sphincter. A miscalculation in when to do your shopping can result in a panicked look around the bathroom for anything remotely resembling TP. That's when you will find the true value of the written word. After the first painful swipe you may be tempted to abort; this will only leave you with a poopy butt which will get itchy and turn red like a baboon's. It's not worth it, just face the pain and remember to do your shopping. Also, you may want to let the thick pages soak for a while or everybody will wonder why the toilet is overflowing with paper bags and Oprah's book club.
Now you are fully equipped to survive and thrive with aplomb in the harsh environment of the stuffy bathroom. While mere mortals will be relegated to mediocrity and skidmarks, you will be on a higher level. Remember, only warriors get to choose to have improperly wiped butts; everyone else has it forced upon them.
-Double E
Thursday, April 22, 2010
There are only 2 things 13 year-old girls can do that I can't
There are only 2 things 13 year-old girls can do that I can't:
1. Seduce Roman Polanksi
2. Jump Rope
The Crossfit workout I did today(recognize) required me to complete the onerous task of jump-roping. Now to most average people this is a relatively simple task, so it stands to reason that for a physical specimen such as myself it should be nothing short of laughably easy.
What should happen is, I whip through 50 double-unders in less time than it takes Polanksi to slip a roofy in a capri sun, and then put my hands on my hips, throw my head back, and let out a hearty, booming laugh before crushing the rest of the workout and tearing my shirt off.
What actually happened, is I ended up enraged and drenched in sweat after 10 minutes of cursing, stomping, and performing what looked to bystanders like a death-battle with a 7 foot electric eel.
Not my proudest moment.
-Double E
1. Seduce Roman Polanksi
2. Jump Rope
The Crossfit workout I did today(recognize) required me to complete the onerous task of jump-roping. Now to most average people this is a relatively simple task, so it stands to reason that for a physical specimen such as myself it should be nothing short of laughably easy.
What should happen is, I whip through 50 double-unders in less time than it takes Polanksi to slip a roofy in a capri sun, and then put my hands on my hips, throw my head back, and let out a hearty, booming laugh before crushing the rest of the workout and tearing my shirt off.
What actually happened, is I ended up enraged and drenched in sweat after 10 minutes of cursing, stomping, and performing what looked to bystanders like a death-battle with a 7 foot electric eel.
Not my proudest moment.
-Double E
Saturday, March 13, 2010
My toilet is an abomination
Somewhere on this planet walks a gifted artisan, with a knowledge of plumbing and craftsmanship exceeded only by his skills in ergonomic and aesthetic design; who can build a porcelain throne so magnificent you pray for diarrhea just to experience its splendor once again.
Whoever this master is, he did not build my toilet.
I'm not sure how anyone who has ever squeezed a turd from their body could build a toilet as awkward and ill-functioning as the one I am being forced to use.
First of all, the toilet is tiny and smashed against the wall in a closet-sized bathroom, and is so misshapen that the lid doesn't actually stay up, so you have to hold it up while you wizz or it will unexpectedly fall down, splashing through a stream of urine and slapping your member like an angry nun with a ruler.
If you actually have to sit on the toilet the real fun starts. You have to hunch over on this tiny thing like a Golem, on a seat still wet with your urine from when it wouldn't stay up last time, with the ill-fitting lid jabbing you in the vertebrae. When you finally manage to get comfortable enough to let loose (or it just happens anyway) you are exposed to the toilet's worst design flaw:
The piece of garbage contains like 13 ounces of water, and is so misshapen that the hole is scrunched up way near the front of the toilet. So the only thing under your ass is a dry ceramic ramp. So just when you finally think relief has found you, you hear a horrific splat and the smell hits so brutally it makes your head snap back like a dragonfly just flew into your nose.
If you are lucky enough that the turd actually makes it all the way into the water, you are left with a skidmark so bad it looks like a herd of monster trucks just drove out of your toilet.
I think I'm going to use a bucket next time.
-Double E
Whoever this master is, he did not build my toilet.
I'm not sure how anyone who has ever squeezed a turd from their body could build a toilet as awkward and ill-functioning as the one I am being forced to use.
First of all, the toilet is tiny and smashed against the wall in a closet-sized bathroom, and is so misshapen that the lid doesn't actually stay up, so you have to hold it up while you wizz or it will unexpectedly fall down, splashing through a stream of urine and slapping your member like an angry nun with a ruler.
If you actually have to sit on the toilet the real fun starts. You have to hunch over on this tiny thing like a Golem, on a seat still wet with your urine from when it wouldn't stay up last time, with the ill-fitting lid jabbing you in the vertebrae. When you finally manage to get comfortable enough to let loose (or it just happens anyway) you are exposed to the toilet's worst design flaw:
The piece of garbage contains like 13 ounces of water, and is so misshapen that the hole is scrunched up way near the front of the toilet. So the only thing under your ass is a dry ceramic ramp. So just when you finally think relief has found you, you hear a horrific splat and the smell hits so brutally it makes your head snap back like a dragonfly just flew into your nose.
If you are lucky enough that the turd actually makes it all the way into the water, you are left with a skidmark so bad it looks like a herd of monster trucks just drove out of your toilet.
I think I'm going to use a bucket next time.
-Double E
Friday, January 29, 2010
So let it be written, so let it be done - Part II
Here are some more guidelines for you mortals to follow when I become rightful ruler of this planet:
I. Bathrooms. There are a lot of things wrong with public bathrooms.
1. All urinals will be based on my height. right now urinals are either 6 inches off the ground and might as well just be a drain in the floor, or they are so tall you have to stand on your toes and drape your sack over the edge just to use it.
2. Speaking of urinals, spend the extra 5 dollars and make the walls between them more than a foot tall. The ones they have now are the equivalent of Nicolas Cage's hair: nobody is fooled, and you can see a lot of bare flesh.
3. Stall doors will only open outward. I don't know why they feel it's necessary to make a stall the size of a medicine cabinet and have the door open INTO it, so you have to stand on the toilet to close the door. WRONG ANSWER. I am tired of having to perform circus magic to get in and out of bathroom stalls. Some people don't have precious seconds to spare when trying to use the bathroom. Hey, do what you want, but you are the ones who will be cleaning shit off the walls.
More to follow, peasants.
- Double E
I. Bathrooms. There are a lot of things wrong with public bathrooms.
1. All urinals will be based on my height. right now urinals are either 6 inches off the ground and might as well just be a drain in the floor, or they are so tall you have to stand on your toes and drape your sack over the edge just to use it.
2. Speaking of urinals, spend the extra 5 dollars and make the walls between them more than a foot tall. The ones they have now are the equivalent of Nicolas Cage's hair: nobody is fooled, and you can see a lot of bare flesh.
3. Stall doors will only open outward. I don't know why they feel it's necessary to make a stall the size of a medicine cabinet and have the door open INTO it, so you have to stand on the toilet to close the door. WRONG ANSWER. I am tired of having to perform circus magic to get in and out of bathroom stalls. Some people don't have precious seconds to spare when trying to use the bathroom. Hey, do what you want, but you are the ones who will be cleaning shit off the walls.
More to follow, peasants.
- Double E
Thursday, January 14, 2010
So let it be written, so let it be done
Everybody knows that rules and laws are stupid, and I have a glorious history of ignoring absurd ones. But the rest of the people on this planet are not nearly as awesome as I am, and so there is all sorts of shit they are doing that they just need to stop. Mostly because it bothers me, which means it's wrong.
So when I take my rightful place as Grand Pompous Overlord of the planet, there are a few rules I am going to institute:
I. No drinking soup out of a thermos
I have no explanation for this one, but it creeps me out and it needs to stop.
II. Grocery stores need to get their shit together and stop insulting me
1. No lame sale announcements. I was in Publix and saw a sign above one of their lame products that said "surprisingly low price!". Bitch, you tell me what the price is, and I'll let you know if I'm surprised.
2. No green bags. These stores will need to get rid of the retarded "green" grocery bags that people use to feel like they are saving the environment, then stuff with 40lbs of hohos and ding dongs and lunchables whose combined packaging material could choke a flock of seagulls. And I mean the band, not the birds (the birds seem to choke rather easily on plastic so it's not that impressive of an analogy).
Right now in India, some kid is riding a motorized rickshaw that blasts as much smog as an iron smelting factory, and people are worried about a special bag to hold their Greenwise yogurt and sprouts.
3. Every store should have candy and cakes at the end of an obstacle course so the fatties either choose not to buy it, get exercise, or die.
4. Carts will be tracked vehicles with a dump-truck bed, and controlled with two sticks like big lawnmowers and bumper cars. (the tracks give you a zero-turning radius, eliminate that one shaky wheel carts always have, and let you run over stray soup cans and babies who fall out of their carts)
5. Women are only allowed to shop in workout clothes or pajamas. (This may already be a law)
6. They must take any coupons I give them. Even if they are expired, for the wrong product, or I drew them on the back of a placemat with a crayon.
7. Approx 1 of 34 food cans will have a one of those big fake spring-snakes in it. Or a dead bird.
I'm tired I will come up with more rules for you mortals to follow later.
- Double E
So when I take my rightful place as Grand Pompous Overlord of the planet, there are a few rules I am going to institute:
I. No drinking soup out of a thermos
I have no explanation for this one, but it creeps me out and it needs to stop.
II. Grocery stores need to get their shit together and stop insulting me
1. No lame sale announcements. I was in Publix and saw a sign above one of their lame products that said "surprisingly low price!". Bitch, you tell me what the price is, and I'll let you know if I'm surprised.
2. No green bags. These stores will need to get rid of the retarded "green" grocery bags that people use to feel like they are saving the environment, then stuff with 40lbs of hohos and ding dongs and lunchables whose combined packaging material could choke a flock of seagulls. And I mean the band, not the birds (the birds seem to choke rather easily on plastic so it's not that impressive of an analogy).
Right now in India, some kid is riding a motorized rickshaw that blasts as much smog as an iron smelting factory, and people are worried about a special bag to hold their Greenwise yogurt and sprouts.
3. Every store should have candy and cakes at the end of an obstacle course so the fatties either choose not to buy it, get exercise, or die.
4. Carts will be tracked vehicles with a dump-truck bed, and controlled with two sticks like big lawnmowers and bumper cars. (the tracks give you a zero-turning radius, eliminate that one shaky wheel carts always have, and let you run over stray soup cans and babies who fall out of their carts)
5. Women are only allowed to shop in workout clothes or pajamas. (This may already be a law)
6. They must take any coupons I give them. Even if they are expired, for the wrong product, or I drew them on the back of a placemat with a crayon.
7. Approx 1 of 34 food cans will have a one of those big fake spring-snakes in it. Or a dead bird.
I'm tired I will come up with more rules for you mortals to follow later.
- Double E
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