Sunday, December 30, 2007

Your Penis is Not Big

College and moreso now, High school, students love to talk about how big their penii are. (I am refering to male students...obviously.) I mean, the way dudes like to talk about this shit, you would think that their penis grew an inch every time they exaggerated.

Last night, some polish goober named Gutowski felt the need to tell a girl in front of him he had a 9 inch penis. I quickly challenged him to prove it.

Im not the gay one here, if he does in fact have a 9 inch penis, im going to give him a pat on the back and whistle with awe.

Odds are, however, hes packing an uncircumcised choad built more for a hand than a girl. 99 Percent of the guys who tell you how bigs their dicks are, can relate to Gutowski. Keep it in your pants and keep it to yourself.

The Trendy Gangsters Handshake

I like to shake hands as if im clamping a slap of concrete. I squeeze so tight I want to hear your knuckles pop. To me, it means im the man, and thats whats important in life...knowing your the man.

Unfortunately, one of the many cultural diffusions from black people that has seeped into middle class white society is the complicated handshake.

I know, i know, when im drinking, nothing is more satisfying in the world than completing one of these handshakes with a black guy. It means your the shit, your open minded, your real, your penis is gigantic. Come on though, does shaking hands really need to be so difficult? I promise, it never looks cool to see some caucasion goobers slap hands. No girl appreciates it. Youd be much better off breaking that fuckers hand.

Pocket Chains, Cause Fun Can Be Badass

My friend Kyle had a party at his house this weekend. It sucked. I like to go to my own bed and cope with alcohol poisoning before going back out the next night. Not happening at Kyles, though. Everyone stayed the night. Friday night was excellent, I went 2 for 5 in beer pong and polished off an 18 pack which put me in "Life of the Party" mode. Fooled around with a girl who, on her mothers grave, was 19 or 20...or something of age, she swore. To top it off, I led a fight against a typical "I take pics of myself throwing gang signs in the mirror for myspace" wankster who had previously threatened to shoot me.

The house was so gone by this point, before the battle, I led about 20 kids in a chant mimicking the under arm commercial. "What time is it??" I roared. "Game time!"

Drunk white guys love to release inner testosterone on one another.

But alas, it was not game time, but instead bed time. I passed out soon after, vomited on myself many a time, and started to question if I would die the death of a hero.

Noon rolled around and some shits were still there. Who were these kids? I dont know. They arrived around 7-8am Kyle believed and they were all sporting pocket chains and bowls.

Apparently, the pocket chain craze didnt die with Waynes World. Its back baby. All we need now is the revival of Zebra Pants and we got ourselves a party. Anyways, all these guys had the Pete Wentz look going on and I began to realize just where my life had led me, sitting in a puddle of vomit with marker on my face, and surrounded by 17 year olds with pocket chains.

Yea

Tuesday, December 4, 2007

Yeah...I dont care about Darfur

Students held a rally at UNCC for Darfur last week. I dont think this is a big surprise to anyone seeing how students hold a rally for Darfur every week. I'm starting to wonder why college kids are so drawn to this shit hole of a country. I mean...if its about finding a cause (and it always is with these kids) than how about devoting that much time to losing weight or getting a hair cut?

Im not unsympathetic for Darfur personally, but I can think of at least 10-20 things that would be more fun, and just as helpful to the people of Darfur without rallying:
1. Sleeping
2. Drinking beer
3. Throwing rocks at people holding rallies for Darfur
4. Taking a crap
5. Driving to McDonalds
6. Facebooking for 5 hours straight
7. Teasing a homeless man
8. Running from the homeless man
9. Resting my eyes and pretending to sleep
10.Braiding bracelts that say "Save Darfur" than selling them for 5 dollars a piece

Thats just a sample folks. I can think of many more. See, Ive come to terms with the following things:
1. Activism is an easy way to feel fulfilled but accomplish nothing
2. Going to rallies means being surroumded by ugly girls
3. We have just as many tougher problems going on in our own country
4. Nothing will change in Darfur because conflict involving these tribes and Sudan has much more history than we can imagine and its unlikely a student at an American University with a toilet seat that costs more than a refugee tent can understand the situation from both perspectives.


So...if anyones trying to get their hands on some Save Darfur t-shirts or panties made from 100percent natural materials and the sweat and blood of child laborers in China, hit me up.