I cant stress enough the importance of staying away from nightclubs and any bar with a DJ while your still in college. Once in awhile, its fun to see the people and your probably getting laid if you really want (I do, I do). If your drunk, it could even be considered an emotionally positive experience.
This having been said, be wary of what these locales have to offer. The people, the music, the flashing lights..they are all fake. Do you ever see the people who consider themselves VIP or "regulars" at these places eating lunch at McDonalds or going to classes at college while the sun is out? Of course you dont. These people are too busy rebuilding their image so they can go out the next night and claim to be something they are not yet again. I imagine for most of these people, male and female, this means going tanning, working out, taking steroids, masturbating HEAVILY, getting a tattoo, 3 hours putting in hair gel and "product", and finally sipping a red bull while checking out facebook/myspace.
Its funny though how these same people can still come out after such a shallow and meaningless day and attempt to sell themselves as gangsters or important. Bullshit. I will kick your...scratch that....this really tough friend I have who might be retarded WILL KICK YOUR ASS if you think this is the case. If you had something, anything going on in your life youd have somewhere better to be than a hole in the wall where you are forced into social situations with other retards.
Anyways, I decided to give you guys a recount of the last time I went to a club without being kicked out within 30 minutes. It was about a year ago and I was almost 19. Here goes:
10:00 get in car. begin knocking back coors with friends.
10:30 arrive at club. continue knocking back coors with friends.
11:00 realize its been 30 minutes, get up and get out of the car. Realize I have to piss. Pee beside car.
11:01 Wave at girl who watches me pee, she doesent look impressed.
11:05 Bouncer tells friend who may be retarded he is drunk, I explain he is not drunk, just possibly retarded and show them his ID. He is allowed in.
11:15 Stand by dancefloor and stare at about 7 good looking girls in the shadows, nod my head and smoke to look preoccupied.
12:15 Work up the nerve to approach mediocre looking girl. Ride mechanical bull with her. Thrust my pelvis like Elvis to Lil John music.
1:00 She is offended by my horrible dance moves and X's on my hands. Leaves to flirt with a 21 and older type guy. Classy bitch.
1:05 Puke in bathroom. Cry a little
1:15 Get caught in "mosh pit" of Persian teenagers who seem to think they are uber-trendy. Smell of curry and grease. Im sorry persians.
1:30 Ask a girl to dance. She agrees. Look down to ask her name. Headbutt the hell out of her. Blame it on friend. Exit dancefloor and go to bar area immediatly.
1:45 Try to order beer. Dont even garner a response. Bastard.
1:50 Girl comes from behind and headbutts me. Retaliation is a bitch.
2:00 Leave bar with sore head, puke on my shirt, no sense of time or place, and a keen desire to never go to a nightclub again.
So there you have it folks. This is what you have to look forward to. Enjoy!
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
What the hell Jesus? What the hell?
Seriously, sometimes I think I know why the lions always tried to eat the Christians back in the BC days. Obviously Christians taste no better than Jews (or do they...hmm) and theyre not that much harder to digest than a scrumptious cow. So Im betting the lions were just real pissed off about how lucky those Christians were. If those days were anything like the present, I bet the apostles were all sporting WWJD toe rings and vows of celibacy tattoed across their asses. Bastards.
All I know is that in present day America, their is a growing population of youngsters calling themselves born again Christians. This faith usually consists of promoting everything that actually sucks (no touching others..OR YOURSELF, no homosexual flirtations after a 7th steel reserve kicks in, no abortions even if the girl looks like Shreks wife, no profanity even after seeing how ugly the kid turns out to be that you really should have aborted 7 months before)by acting as though its badass to be this way. Ill tell you something though. Its not. Unfortunately, no one died and made me boss. In fact, whoever is the boss apparently hates me because hes decided to send out an endless supply of hot, sultry girls who giggle a bit too much and like to tan right beside your house while you watch from the window looking over the yard and break or imagine breaking all Ten Commandments. Unfortunately, these girls buy into the marketing scam that Christianity has become. Thus, by being a chain smoking, Catholic, Pollock who swears like a Lesbian, I have very little chance of theoretically "hitting that".
Instead, these girls will continue to fall head over heels for the guys who take them to church three times a week, wear torn Abercrombie jeans and indie button down shirts that scream "I play 3 chords on the guitar and sing John Mayer lyrics!". These same guys who wouldnt touch a beer or a cigarette, but have no problem throwing up gang signs and jokingly trying to mask the awkward sexual tension flowing through their custom jockeys.
Its as if they tease me with their absolutely ridiculous ploys to be rebellious. The born again Christians of today have outdone the guidos and the frat boys in become the saddest trend seekers of all time. They are so uncool, they think being uncool is cool. Damn.
All I know is that in present day America, their is a growing population of youngsters calling themselves born again Christians. This faith usually consists of promoting everything that actually sucks (no touching others..OR YOURSELF, no homosexual flirtations after a 7th steel reserve kicks in, no abortions even if the girl looks like Shreks wife, no profanity even after seeing how ugly the kid turns out to be that you really should have aborted 7 months before)by acting as though its badass to be this way. Ill tell you something though. Its not. Unfortunately, no one died and made me boss. In fact, whoever is the boss apparently hates me because hes decided to send out an endless supply of hot, sultry girls who giggle a bit too much and like to tan right beside your house while you watch from the window looking over the yard and break or imagine breaking all Ten Commandments. Unfortunately, these girls buy into the marketing scam that Christianity has become. Thus, by being a chain smoking, Catholic, Pollock who swears like a Lesbian, I have very little chance of theoretically "hitting that".
Instead, these girls will continue to fall head over heels for the guys who take them to church three times a week, wear torn Abercrombie jeans and indie button down shirts that scream "I play 3 chords on the guitar and sing John Mayer lyrics!". These same guys who wouldnt touch a beer or a cigarette, but have no problem throwing up gang signs and jokingly trying to mask the awkward sexual tension flowing through their custom jockeys.
Its as if they tease me with their absolutely ridiculous ploys to be rebellious. The born again Christians of today have outdone the guidos and the frat boys in become the saddest trend seekers of all time. They are so uncool, they think being uncool is cool. Damn.
Friday, April 4, 2008
What is Cool?
Im starting to get older now. My guts growing, my eyesights worse, I find myself laughing at Blazing Saddles jokes that I used to never care to understand. Im almost 20. Pretty much dead. That being said, I think I can finally determine what is cool and what is not, and I think its time for a revolution.
For many years now, American society has dictated that if you go to parties, join fraternities, and get shitfaced for facebook pictures, you are cool. If you employ any kind of literacy skills, take initiative, or defer from the crowd, your not cool.
As I get older though, Im starting to realize these things slowly stop mattering and its a wonderful feeling. I have been to countless parties in the past two years during college and sometimes I wonder if Im doing it for myself or doing it because I want to feel cool. I feel almost obligated at this point. The funny thing is, when I choose not to go to parties, I usually end up finding something more fun to do and make the kids who go to parties think im mysterious and thus a badass.
People are starting to buy into what I am saying, I think. Go to a nightclub now and all you see are the same 200 people that go every night to the same spot and mingle with the same people constantly throwing gang signs and talking as though they are in control of something which no one really knows. They never get out of that bubble. They dont see the real world, they dont care to. As they continue to live in this self-serving exsistence that eventually will be called denial, I applaud the people who say fuck it and have the Hombres to say "Fuck off" to a kid who calls himself tough or to hit up a bookstore rather than a bar. Im getting to a point in my life where I would honestly just prefer to drink beer in the woods and play horseshoes or something behind my pool. I love socializing but I dont like the people that go to these social situations. Theyre starting to get stale and I can see how quickly things will deteriorate for them. I dont want that to be me.
Im going to start capitalizing on this. Im going to say fuck off to every and any person that I dont like and if they and their "niggas" (who happen to be white) want to take it personally, im going to beat their asses and walk away. I think someone has to be the reality check, and its going to be me.
For many years now, American society has dictated that if you go to parties, join fraternities, and get shitfaced for facebook pictures, you are cool. If you employ any kind of literacy skills, take initiative, or defer from the crowd, your not cool.
As I get older though, Im starting to realize these things slowly stop mattering and its a wonderful feeling. I have been to countless parties in the past two years during college and sometimes I wonder if Im doing it for myself or doing it because I want to feel cool. I feel almost obligated at this point. The funny thing is, when I choose not to go to parties, I usually end up finding something more fun to do and make the kids who go to parties think im mysterious and thus a badass.
People are starting to buy into what I am saying, I think. Go to a nightclub now and all you see are the same 200 people that go every night to the same spot and mingle with the same people constantly throwing gang signs and talking as though they are in control of something which no one really knows. They never get out of that bubble. They dont see the real world, they dont care to. As they continue to live in this self-serving exsistence that eventually will be called denial, I applaud the people who say fuck it and have the Hombres to say "Fuck off" to a kid who calls himself tough or to hit up a bookstore rather than a bar. Im getting to a point in my life where I would honestly just prefer to drink beer in the woods and play horseshoes or something behind my pool. I love socializing but I dont like the people that go to these social situations. Theyre starting to get stale and I can see how quickly things will deteriorate for them. I dont want that to be me.
Im going to start capitalizing on this. Im going to say fuck off to every and any person that I dont like and if they and their "niggas" (who happen to be white) want to take it personally, im going to beat their asses and walk away. I think someone has to be the reality check, and its going to be me.
VIP stands for Very Irritating Prick
Everyone between the ages of 18 and 24 that goes to clubs and high end bars in Charlotte is apparently VIP. I have no idea what that means, but it seems for them as they end up waiting in lines that are longer than the normal people lines but I suppose its pretty nifty to have that title. I wish I was a VIP. Maybe than I could talk to some hollowed out chick rocking a fake ID and promising me a night of anything but pleasure. That would be awesome.
Than again...do I want to stand in line with Fruity McLoops who wears his hair spiked so high I have lost track of the moon and has so many tears in his jeans that when he turns around hes actually considered partially nude? Maybe...oh who am I kidding, fuck no. The people who go to clubs and bars enough to get the VIP gimmick from clubs are no different than the fat fucks who have Subway Free Sub stamp cards and the guy whos got a blockbuster movie pass because he gets 6 movies every friday night and doesent leave the house until sunday. Seriously, how are these people any different? They all buy into a stpid ass marketing ploy that drains their income from working at the lotion kiosk in the mall.
I dont knwo about you, but I hate when those pricks try to give me samples, my skins just naturally ashy.
Than again...do I want to stand in line with Fruity McLoops who wears his hair spiked so high I have lost track of the moon and has so many tears in his jeans that when he turns around hes actually considered partially nude? Maybe...oh who am I kidding, fuck no. The people who go to clubs and bars enough to get the VIP gimmick from clubs are no different than the fat fucks who have Subway Free Sub stamp cards and the guy whos got a blockbuster movie pass because he gets 6 movies every friday night and doesent leave the house until sunday. Seriously, how are these people any different? They all buy into a stpid ass marketing ploy that drains their income from working at the lotion kiosk in the mall.
I dont knwo about you, but I hate when those pricks try to give me samples, my skins just naturally ashy.
An Ode to the Mustasched Girl
While on the topics of weird people I regularly come across at campus everyday, I thought Id go ahead and get one more confession out there. I am scared to look at the girl sitting next to me. Shes not a bad looking girl in all actuality. Shes anatomically correct and looks Aryan which is big in my book. Unfortunately, I am not into 19th century cobblers from Austria so this girl is not for me. Sporting the type of well grown, mahogany colored mustache men named Franz and Peter wore 200 years ago, this girl is embracing a flaw that actually makes me nervous. If I look at her, Im straight up going to stare at the mustache. I want to comb it, pick the little bits of food that get caught in it out, groom it. But I dont think shed appreciate that. In fact, I already tried, and her exact words were, "Hey, I dont appreciate that!"
So now I sit next to her in class twice a week, watching as the follicles slowly grow and my temptation to shave it off only churns more powerfully within me.
So now I sit next to her in class twice a week, watching as the follicles slowly grow and my temptation to shave it off only churns more powerfully within me.
The Tragedy of the Balding 19 Year Old
I saw him out of the corner of my eye. Tall, lanky, normal looking in all natural ways except one small abnormality. What was it? I looked harder. Something was wrong...something about his face...no his head...it wasnt adding up. I approached the young man, got about 3 inches from his face and told him to hold still. He blushed and looked down, ashamed. And that I realized it. This young man had a receeding hairline.
Oh how awful he must feel. A future marred with purchases of rogaine and soon after, toupees. No man can look baldness in the eye and seriously say, "I am at peace with this illness."
This student I spotted on campus is just one of many young people walking around me everyday. I try not to touch them or make eye contact normally as I consider a receeding hairline to be equivalent to AIDs. No matter what you try and do to cure it, society will still look at you with a mixture of pity and shame.
I am sorry, but I just had to get this off my chest. It feels as though I wrote something that will inspire all the balding kids trying to compensate by wearing nifty t-shirts and baggy pants to come to grips with this sickness and seek treatment or go away from society. Just stay the hell away from me and my thick and lustrous hair. I know you want to steal it.
Oh how awful he must feel. A future marred with purchases of rogaine and soon after, toupees. No man can look baldness in the eye and seriously say, "I am at peace with this illness."
This student I spotted on campus is just one of many young people walking around me everyday. I try not to touch them or make eye contact normally as I consider a receeding hairline to be equivalent to AIDs. No matter what you try and do to cure it, society will still look at you with a mixture of pity and shame.
I am sorry, but I just had to get this off my chest. It feels as though I wrote something that will inspire all the balding kids trying to compensate by wearing nifty t-shirts and baggy pants to come to grips with this sickness and seek treatment or go away from society. Just stay the hell away from me and my thick and lustrous hair. I know you want to steal it.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
College Stressing You Out? Just Quit Now.
UNC-Charlotte is offering up some seminar (oppurtunity to sit next to frisky looking freshmen girls) on handling the stress of college. Im pretty sure the attractive female head count will be quite high for this event. Even better, the goofy Polish guy head count will remain at just one, myself. At least I wont have competition...
Anyways, I find this seminar to be especially appalling since I have yet to get stressed once during my college career thus far. Dont take this lightly. I get stressed very often. If I dont have a Camel after my first beer, I dont rule out homicide. If I am told I have to attend church with the family the following Sunday, I spend the remainder of my days beforehand scheming on how to get out of it. Once in 8th grade when I didnt get in the Yearbook Club, I actually developed the early stages of an ulcer. That my friends, is a person who can get stressed.
Yet college really just doesent do it for me. Maybe its the whole "I can walk out of class and they cant do shit" mentality im beginning to develop or maybe its all about seeing these professors in Chinos and Birkenstocks hop into a piece of shit parked next to my Jeep..either way, I just dont feel all that concerned with college.
You dont have classes back to back very often so you get 2 nights to do homework now instead of just one. You dont have much in terms of busy work. You dont have to be overly concerned about attendance as there are always loopholes. You can email your teacher and explain how your car broke down for the 5th time this semester and that it really is just bad luck, not a desire to miss each and every quiz he assigns. Yep, everything seems pretty cut and dry.
So why is College often related to being stressful? I sort of enjoy taking my books and crawling into the library sofas and just getting lost in that shit for awhile. Sometimes, Ill even look for books with pictures of...ah nevermind..I like pictures, lets leave it at that. Anyways, heres a schedule of my day for all the kids that are apparently so stressed with their lives that they cant even function.
10am- Awaken, scratch balls, shower, brush
11am- Arrive at campus
11:30am-12:30pm- Stare at people walking by my car, keep hands where nobody can see them, listen to the Fray, light a fragrant candle, think about those pictures...
1230pm-2pm- Class, usually this means I devise business plans for all my nifty ideas
2pm-315pm- Class again, try and decide if the girl two rows to the left is hot or has a horse face. The final decision is Nay, like something this horse faced girl would say if I tried to ride her....ah this joke sucks.
315pm-4pm- Fall asleep at the wheel and somehow wind up near home
4pm-5pm- Business time, which means emailing and calling people who reject my ideas
5pm-6pm- Workout- Running a very slow and steady pace while trying to make myself fit
6pm-7pm- Dinner, if your fat, substitute "Fasting" for Dinner, itll help i swear.
7pm-8pm- Practice hockey with 10 year olds around the neighborhood, retain my title as cool but sorta creepy guy who could be a dad.
8pm-9pm- Watch television and work on my articles, sometimes polish my awards
9pm-11pm-Study whatever for school, than study shit I want to learn on my own, which usually means someones ass or potential cleavage on facebook.
11pm-3am- Still unsure whether im seeing the outline of a nipple or a cancerous lump on the tit of facebook girl, decide to spend 4 hours making sure.
3am-330am- Email teachers explaining how I just found out my grandfather died and that I will try and make it to class tommorow but I dont know whether or not I will be able to focus on getting my assignments due the next time done in time.
330am-4am- Find people in obituaries who could pass as grandparent.
Finally, sleep, feeling fulfilled and wholesome...
Anyways, I find this seminar to be especially appalling since I have yet to get stressed once during my college career thus far. Dont take this lightly. I get stressed very often. If I dont have a Camel after my first beer, I dont rule out homicide. If I am told I have to attend church with the family the following Sunday, I spend the remainder of my days beforehand scheming on how to get out of it. Once in 8th grade when I didnt get in the Yearbook Club, I actually developed the early stages of an ulcer. That my friends, is a person who can get stressed.
Yet college really just doesent do it for me. Maybe its the whole "I can walk out of class and they cant do shit" mentality im beginning to develop or maybe its all about seeing these professors in Chinos and Birkenstocks hop into a piece of shit parked next to my Jeep..either way, I just dont feel all that concerned with college.
You dont have classes back to back very often so you get 2 nights to do homework now instead of just one. You dont have much in terms of busy work. You dont have to be overly concerned about attendance as there are always loopholes. You can email your teacher and explain how your car broke down for the 5th time this semester and that it really is just bad luck, not a desire to miss each and every quiz he assigns. Yep, everything seems pretty cut and dry.
So why is College often related to being stressful? I sort of enjoy taking my books and crawling into the library sofas and just getting lost in that shit for awhile. Sometimes, Ill even look for books with pictures of...ah nevermind..I like pictures, lets leave it at that. Anyways, heres a schedule of my day for all the kids that are apparently so stressed with their lives that they cant even function.
10am- Awaken, scratch balls, shower, brush
11am- Arrive at campus
11:30am-12:30pm- Stare at people walking by my car, keep hands where nobody can see them, listen to the Fray, light a fragrant candle, think about those pictures...
1230pm-2pm- Class, usually this means I devise business plans for all my nifty ideas
2pm-315pm- Class again, try and decide if the girl two rows to the left is hot or has a horse face. The final decision is Nay, like something this horse faced girl would say if I tried to ride her....ah this joke sucks.
315pm-4pm- Fall asleep at the wheel and somehow wind up near home
4pm-5pm- Business time, which means emailing and calling people who reject my ideas
5pm-6pm- Workout- Running a very slow and steady pace while trying to make myself fit
6pm-7pm- Dinner, if your fat, substitute "Fasting" for Dinner, itll help i swear.
7pm-8pm- Practice hockey with 10 year olds around the neighborhood, retain my title as cool but sorta creepy guy who could be a dad.
8pm-9pm- Watch television and work on my articles, sometimes polish my awards
9pm-11pm-Study whatever for school, than study shit I want to learn on my own, which usually means someones ass or potential cleavage on facebook.
11pm-3am- Still unsure whether im seeing the outline of a nipple or a cancerous lump on the tit of facebook girl, decide to spend 4 hours making sure.
3am-330am- Email teachers explaining how I just found out my grandfather died and that I will try and make it to class tommorow but I dont know whether or not I will be able to focus on getting my assignments due the next time done in time.
330am-4am- Find people in obituaries who could pass as grandparent.
Finally, sleep, feeling fulfilled and wholesome...
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