Archive for August, 2012

Wet and Wild

Posted: August 29, 2012 in Humor
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I stood there, with my finger buried in his squishy, man-boobs.  He mouth gaped and his eyes bugged in a mixture of fear and utter confusion.  “You’re not fooling anyone, fat boy.  No one,”  and off I walked into the grocery store, leaving his pimply face frozen and perplexed.  It was fucking mean, sure.  But it was justified and it was necessary.  Let me explain….
Clothes have, since the beginning of our miserable human existence, been a lot more than just shit we put on to keep from freezing.  The human psyche, even the most primitive early forms, was/is obsessed with image and how others in the group see him.
The first Neanderthal to pull a fur pelt around his body probably had “Nabok Suckz!” painted on the back by the next day.  Kept him warm and made a statement. Because everyone probably hated Nabok. That dude fuckin’ stunk and hoarded all the cave women to himself like an asshole.  Now Nabok probably killed that guy and dragged around his intestines afterwards…but then I bet he made his own fur coat and painted “Nabok fukin Rulz!” on the back…and shit hasn’t really changed much since.
The most iconic representation of this narcissistic love affair with expressing yourself (at best, trying to be “hip” at worst) has never been better displayed then the T-Shirt.  We all love them, we all have way too fucking many of them.  Cute, funny, ironic, iconic, moronic, divisive, trendy.  We are obsessed with them.
I ain’t gonna pretend I’m above the fray either.  I have a ridiculous collection myself, of which I think of has my secondary children.  When I’m forced to dispose of one (because the fabric has worn thin to the point of my chest hair showing through) I actually hold a silent vigil while I lower it into the trash.  My all time favorites get “retired” and put in the attic to be eventually framed and displayed on the wall in my as-yet unbuilt study wing to our tiny split-level (Keep the dream alive!).  Some day I will utter the question “Would you like to retire to my study to gaze upon my rare, vintage Beastie Boys T-shirt collection?”.  I may even use an english accent too.  And don’t pretend you don’t want to see it.
The thing that has to be understood, though, is that there are rules.  Understood laws of fashion projection that must be followed.  Your T-shirt must have some semblance of “truth in advertising” to it.  You can’t where a Bob Marley shirt if you only know “Everything Is Gonna Be Alright” and think his best song was “Don’t Worry, Be Happy.”  That makes you a fucking poser.  You can’t weigh 270 lbs. and wear a “Juicy” T-shirt stretched around your flubber so tight it’s like latex body spray.  And no, you’re not wearing it to be ironic.  You’re just delusional.
And no, Pimply-McFattington, you cannot wear a “Wet and Wild” T-shirt to the grocery store when it is PAINFULLY obvious that you have NEVER gotten wet OR wild with ANY woman in your short, pathetic, virginal life.  It’s just fucking stupid and it fools no one. NO ONE!  Like a Mormon wearing a Budweiser shirt, you’re living a lie.
And that is exactly what I told Sir Rolls-A-Lot in front of the grocery carts.  Make your statement, express yourself, support what you love.  But keep it real, homie.  I sincerely hope he got the message.  I let him off easy.  Nabok would have gutted him.


And On We Go…

Posted: August 14, 2012 in Humor

My probation ended just this past month in July with a nice tidy hearing accompanied by good old Dave.  With the end of my probation came the official end to my obligation to continue this journal/blog as per my original therapy arrangement.  Regardless, I have kind of grown attached to ranting and sharing disturbing stories with the lot of you that have latched on to me (like a fucking fungus)…so, shit…I guess I’ll keep up my semi-weekly word vomit.
Allow me to continue with the last contact I had with Dave, via text message, following my probation hearing.  I cannot make this shit up, people.  This is what I had to deal with for nearly a year.  Mother fucker will probably never stop…but I have to admit it’s entertaining.

Plus, posting his private shit on a public board is such beautiful payback: